We spent some time after breakfast exploring Ganges a bit more, checking out streets and alleys we missed the first time. Ganges is a small revelation, one of the biggest surprises of the tour. The travel information I could find described it just as a local market town, with little other description. We're here just because we needed a convenient base near Navacelles, but I keep finding something new to appreciate. It's quite a special little place, if you stop and look more closely.
After climbing about eight hundred feet, we top out on another exposed limestone plateau, and before long we leave Herault and are dropping into the Gard, and the western edge of the vast Rhone valley. It's startling how abruptly everything changes - we're suddenly immersed in endless vineyards again, and the local architecture has changed. That's how it is in France - bike thirty miles, and you transition into a new topography, a new subculture.
We've seen these two women before, the grieving war widow and the French Resistance hero; but I really like the atmosphere the evening light gives them.
In Ganges. This is the Grand Rue, the original Main Street of the town. I've never seen a street pattern quite like this - almost pastel, color coordinated with the shutters.
The uniquely six sided Presbyterian church, Ganges. I like this view of it because of the delivery truck. The driver, a middle aged woman, was having trouble wrestling a large package and called to me to lend a hand. Nice to be of assistance, nice that I finally remembered the expression 'de rien' in time to use it appropriately. Small steps.
Today is the last one of the tour with any significant contour, but it's still a pretty relaxed ride. After a short ride down along the Herault, we climb east and out of it - twice, since we missed our turn and climbed out in the wrong direction initially - toward the border separating the Herault and the Gard. We're on yet another brilliant road for cycling, a marked cycling route through Herault: route 21. Yesterday we were on 11, around Navacelles. There must be a guide for the bike routes in this department. If these two are representative, it looks like you could have a great short cycling break just in the Herault.
The Herault Gorge. The scale of this section is startling, as are the towering varnished cliffs. This could be a scene in southern Utah, if it weren't so verdant.
Looking back across the Herault to the next causse. We biked out of our way on this highway for about a mile and a half and climbed four hundred feet to get here, just for this shot. Inspiring, no? No. We just had a team brain freeze and missed our turn. Rachael's thawed out first. She startled me when she came whizzing back down.
One last pass through the causse, crossing over from the Herault to the Gard. It's mostly overcast this morning. It has been beautiful this morning biking up here, but for a brief moment the sun broke through and it's suddenly resplendent.
This has been a very modest climb and descent - about eight hundred feet, and gradual. France is so incredible - you don't need to invest that much work to find yourself in yet another dramatic landscape.
Corconne, a pretty small Gard town that I didn't know existed before today, arrives just at the right time - it's 12:30, and we're hungry. We take the last free table, and settle in for a light lunch. Then we continue on east again, until we reach Sommieres. Here, we finally join up to the original plan, which would have found us descending down this way after a week in the Cevennes. Next time.
Sommieres is well worth a visit, and deserves more than the half hour we can spare it today. I knew it was a special place in planning the tour, and considered staying here as an overnight stop. Not today though - we still have a ways to go to reach Aigues-Mortes, and are hoping we might arrive in time to walk the walls.
The remaining miles go quickly and easily - we're entering the Camargue, the broad, absolutely flat Rhone delta. Such climbing as there is is limited to overpasses crossing its many canals. Tomorrow, our planned 55 mile ride through the Camargue will have a maximum elevation of fifteen feet. A pool table, littered with flamingoes and white horses.
We arrive with an hour or so of daylight left - dusk arrives at about 7 now - but not in time to walk its famous walls, because they're only open between 10 and 5. We'll plan our main visit for Wednesday, the day we leave here for Sete, the final stop of the tour.
South of Sommieres, following this lovely bike path toward Aigues-Mortes. Well, maybe not. Who knows where the hell this is going. Backtrack, rejoin the quiet highway.
The canal connecting Sete and the Rhone. I'm standing on the bridge about fifty yards from the northeast gate. Our hotel is on the left back in the trees, just past the closest of the barges. It makes for a pleasant walk to the city, but a bit spooky returning after dinner - quite dark, stars are out, still except for the crickets and the odd yowling cat.
Aigues-Mortes is immense, for a walled city. It is square, and the entire four walled structure has miraculously survived the centuries intact. This photo takes in roughly one half of the west wall.
