It all started with a notice in the Paroisse Saint Trophyme newsletter. 'Dimanche 8 Septembre, Nativite de la Sainte Vierge Marie, procession et Messe a Notre Dame de Constance, RDV au chateau de Bormes a 16h'.
Great. A procession to celebrate Our Lady's birthday. I am all for this. So off I went to the meeting point at the chateau, above Bormes village.
I took the precaution of waiting in the courtyard above the carpark, in case not many people turned up, and luckily I did, because no one turned up, except for the priest and an elderly nun. No doubt all the parishioners were sleeping off their Sunday lunch, and did not fancy a tough climb up to the chapel on a very hot day.
The priest and nun had a quick discussion, and an even quicker look around, then the nun got back into her car and drove off, and the priest went back down to his church. They did not appear unduly concerned at the lack of keen parishioners. Probably secretly relieved really.
This left me sitting on the wall, wondering what I should do, having walked up from the village, with the purpose of joining the end of the procession. Oh well, I think I will walk up anyway, and perhaps come back along the road, behind the hill, to the carpark. Mad, I know.
So off I went and clambered up the first part of path. I could feel the heat radiating off the rocks and shrubs around me. But I continued, perspiring madly, in my determination to get to the top. Mad, mad, mad!
I had to stop often, in order to catch my breath, and cool down a little. The views of the sea, were breathtaking, although I had very little breath left to appreciate the view.
The path in the photo below was a steady climb up, although it looks flat. By this time I was very hot, even more breathless, and my clothes were soaked in perspiration. I thought of the parishioners sleeping off their lunch, in the coolness of their homes. Very sensible.
Finally, the chapel came into view, deserted of course.
So I found a place to sit down, by the lookout, and drank my cold can of lemonade. What a life saver. The breeze cooled me down quickly, and I felt really happy to have made it to the top. The view alone was worth it. There were other people there, but they were walkers who had come in from the road, and only had to walk a short way along a very smooth fire track.
And then I remembered that if I walked down the fire track a short way, towards the road, I would be able to turn left along another fire track which would lead me back to my starting point in Bormes village. Fantastic. A circular walk. I wished I had remembered this track when I went up there with David, Catherine and Barry, instead of making them clamber back down the rocky path. Not an easy feat.
The scrub up there was very dry. Bush fire material.
And the photograph of the trees there, certainly reminded me of Australia.
I walked around the hill, on a lovely shady fire track, which was not steep or challenging, just a pleasant soft gradient down. I passed many people out for a Sunday walk with their dogs. These were obviously the people who had slept off their lunch, but did not wish to clamber up a stony path, in the heat, on the sunny side of the hill. There were beautiful views over the valleys.
Finally the path came out below the village, and I walked into the main shopping street, below the Saint Trophyme's church.
By this time I had completely forgotten about the hot climb up on the rocky path. Euphoria!
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