It Would Really Help If I Could Read A Map

Seriously. Or should I say, Serre-ly, since that is where I am.

I am in the foothills of the Alps and was all day yesterday too. I should have realized that had I looked at the map correctly. But the real trouble came a few days ago. I had left the very charming St. Victor La Cross with it's castle atop the village and meandered towards a little 12th century hermitage called St. Mayran. From there my map was sketchy with only a series of little unnumbered roads or paths. So I decided to freelance it with backroads, then trails, then train tracks, and thought I was doing great and going to La Doise. And I did kind of make it there only into some obscure industrial area of the town. It was Sunday so NO ONE was around and it became very frustrating. Then I found a sole soul who told me I had passed the town. The city is where I thought I would be taking a bridge over to Caderousse only my map didn't really show that; I think I wanted it to be so. Instead, the local told me I needed to walk further north away from town to a place called Codolet and cross the bridge there and then go back south and over A DAM [which is what I guess I saw connect to La Doise even though it wasn't clear on my map....or in real life]. I got so super-heated and was not a happy camper. Fortunately, I found two locals roadside who could speak English who were dumping a giant carp down a hillside into the river because it had become too big for their home pond. They explained the route I needed to take and drew me a map which was very helpful because it was otherwise all super-confusing. But it meant an extra 5 or 6 miles out of my way when my initial poor map reading led me to believe it were to be just an easy jaunt over a river. I did not cool off  for miles until I got onto a quiet bike path that took me straight into Caderousse.

After Caderousse  I went to Orange, which is renowned, not for their castle or cathedral but an ancient, 2,000 year old Roman theater. I was curious but not willing to pay 10 euro to see the inside. The woman at the museum said it included the museum plus a movie and some 3D show. Sounded like fluff. So I asked a couple who had been inside if it was worth it and both agreed it was although the guy said it was too pricey. Bingo. Then the woman said she had seen some folks on the hilltop behind the theater where I might be able to see inside from there. So I dumped my bag at a little cafe where I'd  bought some food [the guy working there called me Indiana Jones, because of my hat. I only hope he meant the '80s Indiana Jones] then climbed the hill to see the ruins. Very impressive, indeed, but not worth ten euro.

What WAS worth a lot of money was a hotel room in Pouzilhac. I had left my camp spot the morning after I had gone  thru Uzes which was atop a hill above St. Hippolyte de Montage [ if i had a kid I would so name him Hippolyte. Hey Hippo, time for dinner! ] and no sooner had I packed and left when it started raining. Then harder. Then torrential. It was all so absurd all I could do was laugh. I put "on" my blue plastic ground  tarp [for my tent at night] and walked in the monsoon all the way to Pouzilhac. It was Saturday morning and nothing was open. Even the church was closed. Then I found one little place that was open and walked in wrapped in this plastic veil. I asked the woman if there were a restaurant or cafe in town. She told me I was in her cafe. So I asked for food but all she served was coffee plus she was selling three cans of beans on a shelf. She said there was no food in the village except at the restaurant in the only hotel on the edge of the hamlet along the main route. So I ventured back into the downpour, up the road, and into this rather nice hotel lobby with water squishing out of my shoes and this blue plastic shawl draped around me. I asked for breakfast. The young woman working there said breakfast was finished but took pity on me and gave me coffee and croisants. The weather outside was frightful. I was drenched. I inquired about a room and they had only one available and it was ready right away. So I took it. And was so glad for it monsooned for about 7 more hours turning the parking lot into a lake and the road a river. It took all day, and three heaters to dry out my shoes and clothes but I was grateful to be inside watching the BBC on the telly and watching the rains drop outside.

The next morning I continued into the foothills, the scenery became more stunning, and the wineries, very picturesque. Wineries are to southern France as to what olive trees are to southern Spain. They are everywhere. But less in these mountains. There are actually more fruit trees if anything. Last night I camped in the gorgeous gorges of St. May. So beautiful. And next I am off to Gap and then....Italy.

This past Sunday, at the end of the day, would have marked the mid point on my USA trek....day 50 [ I walked it in 100 days]. But I have about 2 more weeks [a little less] to go before I hit that halfway mark this time. All is good. A few rough moments but I'm trying to always remember GRATITUDE. What, I ask myself, despite the troubles I've encountered, can I still be grateful for? And when I start thinking about it, there is always much to be grateful for.