Petite Suisse Luxembourgeoise

The forests, pastures, heathland and rock formations of the Germano-Luxembourg national park haved earned the next stop on our itinerary the title of Petite Suisse Luxembourgeoise. Little Switzerland did have an uncanny resemblance to what little of the real Switzerland I’ve seen, and I’m very happy we took the slight detour to see it. We could have spent two to three days hiking along one of the rivers, exploring a gorge, scrambling through the rock formations or hiking one of the many long-distance trails, but we only had the morning. In addition, we had dreary weather and two enfants that wouldn’t be able to pull their weight in a 20-mile hike. So instead of the 10 km hike I had dreamed of I settled for the Michelin guide driving tour of the region with quite a few stops to see the highlights.

Only 30 minutes from Luxembourg, we started in the Müllerthal, the name given to the Ernz Noire valley. Trails crisscrossed the valley, and more than a few tourists had braved the chilly weather to explore. We stopped at the Hallerback river for a hike, and spent a lovely hour following the river through first a short section of planted pine, then through a deciduous hardwood forest filled with giant beeches, hornbeam, birch and oak to a small series of waterfalls. We didn’t see any of the areas wild boar (which is a good thing!) but did spot some cows in the pasture, and some giant slugs. Maybe it wasn’t the day for wildlife?

The spot we spent the most time in was on the road from Berdorf to the Müllerthal. The giant rock formations rose alternately on either side of the road, and a few of the biggest had parking areas and trails so that visitors could take a closer look. Predigstuhl was a pulpit-shaped rock and the Werchrumschluff was just beyond it. Narrow stairs leading into crevices, bridges crossing to rocky pinnacles, and sandstone rising up on all sides, it reminded me of a cross between the Garden of the Gods in Illinois and a park famous for rock climbing somewhere in Georgia that I once visited with a friend (help me out Styron, do you remember the name?). It turns out we were in for another rock climbing mecca experience on this trip albeit back in France, but more on that in a later post.

If Lauris hadn’t fallen asleep once we were back in the car, we might have stopped in the Gorge du Loup (gorge of the wolf) for another quick walk. Once more a network of well-worn paths connected the valleys, and we could even identify the one particular trail that had been recommended to me (but was 11 km long) that runs a loop from Echternach and back. Echternach, the tourist center of the region, is also known for the remains of the abbey founded there in 698 by a missionary from England, and after driving through the quaint little town we turned east and crossed the Sûre river, cutting through a corner of Germany to reach our next destination, the Hautes Fagnes in Belgium.

Cassis

The seaside town of Cassis is a little off the beaten path; I can see how the short distance from the highway that leads from Aix-en-Provence to Toulon can take hours to travel in the summertime at the height of tourist season. Portrayed as “a bustling fishing port” in the Michelin Guide, I’d lean more towards a description of “popular resort town,” as even in these colder days of March the beaches and cafés were full of people taking advantage of the sun. We chose Cassis for our next destination after Avignon because of the location. To the east are the towering cliffs of the Canaille and to the west the world-famous calanques.

We arrived at the Hôtel Le Clos des Aromes shortly before dinner after a bit of trouble. Google maps pointed us into old town and had us turning down the tiniest little streets, many of which were not navigable as they were torn up in preparation for new cobblestones. After two tours into and around on one-way streets that seemed to only lead us further from our destination we finally found a hotel sign over a door. Roberts checked us in and came back out to drive us to the parking spot they had for us, and after another maddening trip all the way out and back into town we ended up on the street that we originally drove in on – right in front of the other entrance to the hotel! As we were busy trying to navigate to the opposite side the address was leading us to, we had missed seeing the signage and front door; at that moment I understood why the Michelin guide had suggested a bus from Marseilles in lieu of suggestions on where to park!

I recite this story about our arrival (and add that a screaming twenty-two month old didn’t help the situation or my sanity) as the beginning of the theme to our visit there; initial impressions of dismay were always reversed and proved completely wrong. As I initially lamented my choice of hotel based on the hard to find location and the torn up back-street I believed it to be located on, we entered into a fairy tale courtyard before meeting the most pleasant and obliging staff. This was followed by the realization I should have reserved a spot for dinner when booking, they announced that all the tables were full… until they suggested seating us at the farm table in the lobby… which on our return from the cozy rooms we were assigned to had been beautifully set and eventually served up a fantastically delicious dinner!

After a sleepless night (and the hotel was not to blame, just our offspring) I was relieved to steal downstairs with Mikus and enjoy a humongous coffee and fresh croissant by myself, with peace and quiet to finish a few chapters of my novel. And then we were off! I had planned a driving tour from Cassis to La Ciotat skirting the Canaille on the coastal road Corniche des Crêtes and was somewhat disappointed to find it overcast and foggy. The fog (and my mood) only got worse as we started our ascent, at the first lookout we could barely see 10 feet from the car, and I debated calling the drive off right there and then.

Then, all of the sudden we climbed out from the fog into a beautifully sunny day. And even though at the next lookout we could only see a portion of the view (and no ocean yet), we kept on, with more and more scenery revealed to us at every stop. By the afternoon the fog had all but burnt off and the view was amazing, of the cliffs themselves, of Cassis, of the calanques, and finally the port of La Ciotat. What was even more fantastic was that although we returned to Cassis by the same route it felt like a different road, for what we had missed in the fog was revealed in full by the return trip.

The limestone range we were driving on has some of the tallest cliffs in France, with Cap Canaille measuring at 1,188 ft (362m) and the Grand Tête at 1,310 ft (399m). It was an impressive view all around because on one side we had the Mediterranean, and the other, across the valley, the Massifs de Puget and de Marseilleveyre. I was in awe of the views, each stop more impressive than the last, and was sad when the road started its descent into La Ciotat, a port with large shipbuilding yards. The feeling was short-lived as we quickly found ourselves at the parking lot for a short walk to the calanque de Figuerolles, one of the more picturesque of the rocky inlets near the town.

We climbed down the stairs to the small clear-water inlet flanked by strangely eroded rocks, cliffs with round interior cavities and sharp crags rising up from the water. The wind was sharp off of the water, but we stayed a while to throw rocks into the water, take pictures and enjoy the view. Several other families had the same idea, and some even braved the cold to lunch among the rocks. We chose to return to the car and find a warmer spot to picnic, finally ending up in town at a small seaside park with a grand view of the port. Lauris was in crane-heaven – no construction cranes in sight but the docks were filled with cranes for shipbuilding and loading cargo.

In the late afternoon we found ourselves back in Cassis, and this time we set out on foot. Although not very large, there was plenty to keep us busy until dinner and even then we still had some exploring left the following morning after breakfast while we waited for the 2pm boat tour of the calanques.

The one boat company that provides the tours from Cassis (there are more tours departing from Marseilles) has three options, a 45 minute – 3 calanque tour, a 1 hour 5 minute – 5 calanque tour and a 2 hour – 8 calanque tour. We opted for the shortest, not knowing how Mikus and Lauris would enjoy the confinement. Of the tour, the last of the three calanques was probably most representative of the 5 we didn’t see, and I would like to return for the long tour as well as the chance to hike the area. The water was choppy, however each calanque had sunbathers and hikers laid out on the rocks sunbathing. The calanques themselves were beautiful, the white limestone cliffs sharply contrasting with the blue sky and water. We learned from the guide about the ecosystem, as soil is almost non-existent and the cliffs instead contain numerous cracks into which the roots of plants (such as sage, juniper and myrtle) are anchored. All moisture comes only from evaporation of the sea and during the summer it is as dry as a desert. I though the most interesting portion of the journey the description of the underwater cave, the grotte Cosquer, which was only discovered in 1985. Inhabited when the sea level was much lower (currently the cave is about 37 meters underwater), the handprints have been dated back to 27,000 BC and the cave art (horses, seals, penguins and fish drawings) to 17,000 BC.

After our boat tour it was a slow stroll back to the car, taking one last look back at the Mediterranean before continuing on to our final destination, Nîmes.

La Rochelle

Spontaneity is becoming a habit on weekends.  With almost no planning, no reservations and no packing, we had a wonderful weekend.  Friday morning we threw together a suitcase, then packed the diaper bag, a bag of toys, a bag of snacks, the baby backpack and the stroller and were out of the house by 11am, which surprised even me. Destination; La Rochelle. Why? Proximity to the ocean and several other beautiful spots described in the Michelin Guide (tMG). The trip took a little longer than expected as there are no large highways and so the choices are either to make a loop around on a highway or wind through the countryside roads. About an hour out (of the 5.5 hour trip including stops) we called a place listed in tMG and made room reservations. This was a quaint little “isolated old farm… surrounded by stone walls and its inviting garden… full of flowers and trees,” exactly as described. For a very reasonable price (48 euro/night including la petit-déjeuner) we didn’t expect room service (and correctly so; my big recommendation though is to bring your own bar of soap as there was none provided) but received a two-room, three-bed space with a mini fridge and lots of room for Lauris. If you’re willing to stay at more out of the ordinary lodgings, I would recommend Chambre d’hôte Margorie in Dompierre-sur-Mer.

Once settled and having stretched, we drove the very short distance to La Rochelle. Pleasantly surprised by the old fortified fort guarding the entrance to the old port and the picturesque streets of the Old Town with its arcades and squares, we spent more than a few hours wandering around. Of the many architecturally significant buildings my favorite was the Hôtel de Ville, built in the 15^th and 16^th centuries with an interior courtyard that currently sported a garden exhibit, with much of it planted in and on the carcass of an old truck.

Roberts liked the arcades (he said "reminds me of Torino") and the ramparts encircling the Old Town. I already mentioned the old fort, which was the entrance for ships into the old harbor. One half, Tour St-Nicolas was built in the 14^th century and has an interesting pentagonal footprint. The 42m/138ft tower is actually leaning, although we didn’t notice this at the time, nor do I know how recent a development this is. Across from it stands Tour de la Chaîne, which owes its name to the heavy chain that used to be stretched across the harbor mouth at night. Also built in the 14^th century, it used to be a powder magazine. And farther west along the ramparts is Tour de la Lanterne, which is not as old as the other two, nor as aesthetic (except the spire and lantern), for it was built with military imperatives in mind. I liked the Porte de la Grosse-Horloge, a pedestrian entryway into the Old Town with a giant clock at the top of a Gothic tower. *

We ate dinner at one of the many restaurants along rue Saint Jean du Perot. Our initial stop was a more touristy spot on the Cour des Dames esplanade, but after 20 minutes of waiting for any attention from one of the multiple waitstaff we left, and this decision turned out to be a stroke of luck for Baïtona had excellent service, and the atmosphere was ten times better. I was in the mood for a steak, and although my meal was delicious, I need to make it a rule to always order seafood when I’m so close to the coast; my meals over the next few days were all seafood, and all delicious.

After a romantic walk along the edge of the water back to the car we returned to our little countryside retreat. Day one of our impromptu long-car-drive trip was a success!

* There are many more historically and architecturally significant buildings, to learn more about them I would suggest the “French Atlantic Coast” Michelin Guide, it has various walking tours that visit a selection of locations as well as a good overview of the history of the city and area.