I had the intention of going far today, but it didn’t hit me HOW far until I was two hours from home, in the middle of nowhere, stomach growling. Luckily I brought an apple. Today I went past Murles. Where’s Murles you ask? Click below and find out…or stay ignorant forever!
After Murles the road gets narrow and deserted. This area is full of surprises, as I’ve often said before, and I can add this stretch of riding bliss to the list. I spent the better part of 30 minutes riding through isolated vineyards…
…down and up deep gorges…
…and for a minute there, back in time!
I happened upon this really tiny hamlet of Viols-en-Laval about half way into my journey. It was completely deserted, except for a cat – not entirely strange for French villages in the middle of the day, I might add. Also there was the thing in the picture below. Every French town has a monument of its war dead, usually comprising WWI and WWII. This was no different, but the style was totally unexpected. Normally, there’s a mustachioed gentleman in a trench coat looking longingly off into the distance, or something. This one, I have to say, was memorable.
Other than the cryptic style of this thing, the other remarkable aspect of it was above – proof of the size of this place. In both wars there were exactly TWO guys killed from this hamlet…both from the same family! It’s either small or the Beaulieus are one unlucky family.
The rest of the ride was getting past Pic St Loup and back home. Here are two more pictures of said mountain, like I need any more on this blog! But they are from a slightly different angle, and on new roads, so they have their place.