We decided to take a visit to Bédoin simply because the place holds a market on Mondays and it is the village (town?) where we first came to an affinity with the southern slopes of Ventoux. The market is extensive but these days a little too focussed on the tourist perhaps. Not us of course, we're not tourists.
We stayed long enough to discover again that the café we seem to end up at because of its central position still serves the worst grand-crèmes in Bédoin. Never mind. They do good lunches. Had one last year there. Just before lock down.
To compensate perhaps (for the grim coffee) we took the road through Flassan and then twisting over the southern Ventoux slopes, the D217, which rightly gets the green pencil* from Michelin, joining the D1 (a yellow road, Michelin) direction Sault… then doubled back on the D942 to Monieux (we are on p 286 here Michelin fans!). A village of complete calm and sleepily dozing in the sun; bypassed previously by us, one has to come up the hill into it, it looks daunting but as usual there is a way. Lovely, no main thoroughfare through, it is still not too compromised by the visitors it must get in modest numbers during the summer season. Full of horse chestnut trees. Château above. After pottering around Monieux and nodding at a few locals, getting introduced to the gallery/card shop ginger tom called Picasso, skirting round a small group or two of folk with similar aspirations to ourselves, we contemplated and then began our return to Sablet along the tortuous D942 that takes the northern edge of the Gorges de la Nesque. I'm not sure we have used this wonderful road in twenty-five years or more. Increased traffic of course but even that was light, mostly.The route hasn't changed much. Spectacular views into the gorges and across to the other side. Important to us (the other side) as we once did a long walk there, above the Nesque —back in 1990. Merde! That's more than thirty years ago. And we still cherish it!
Back then, we walked almost onto the roof of the Rocher du Cire. Neither Mme Melling or your author can rightly remember where we started from or how we returned but it was a walk amongst ancient pastures and scrubby forest where yer shepherds had employed troughs fashioned on the limestone slabs to channel water for livestock. Hard walking at times, part of one of the national footpaths (GR). We saw no one, incidentally we were walking in spring… Good views across to Le Géant but hardly any into the depths of the deep Nesque gorge. I aspired to get into that vast cave on the Rocher du Cire, but time was against us; and look at it, how the hell did I think we could gain access to such a place? I'm not sure you can amble into it without benefit of fixed ropes. No, I am sure: you can't.
The D942 leads on from the viewpoint (all motorists must stop to gaze across the vastness exhibiting crazy parking to do so) through a number of rock cut tunnels and thus brings us back to Flassan via Villes-sur Auzon. A ride out without a great deal of exercise I'm afraid, like what oldies do in their motors. >sigh<. We quietly enjoyed it though, didn't we Mrs Melling? We certainly did, Mr Smiff. And we quite enjoyed that walk, did we not, all those years ago? Certainly did, it was a corker. No that's not snow in the upper distance, that's Ventoux.
* the green pencil is applied to roads in the Michelin Atlas which it deems to be pictureseque, as I am sure you knew all along. It sometimes informs our decisions…
