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From the Tarn to the AveyronBy Noel Henderson
When Inntravel asked us to walk the route from the Tarn to the Aveyron, my wife and I were both delighted. We had spent part of the summer doing two fairly strenuous walks in the Bernese Oberland and fancied a more restful holiday in the early autumn. There was no need to hurry anywhere, so we opted to drive to Portsmouth in order to enjoy a leisurely overnight crossing by Brittany Ferries to St Malo, a few days exploring the Atlantic Coast and then an exhilarating cross-country journey into the Tarn Valley. On the return journey we were asked to visit a new hotel in the Loire Valley, as well as a new restaurant in Normandy. All in all, it proved a delightful break, the actual walk from the Tarn to the Aveyron being one of the most enjoyable parts of the whole holiday. The first three nights of the walk are spent in chambres d'hôtes accommodation, about which I occasionally have doubts. Not so in either of the two chambres d'hôtes on this route, and for several reasons. Both la Croix du Sud in Castelnau-de-Montmiral and les Vents Bleus in Donnazac offer a warm welcome, spacious and stylish accommodation, and an outdoor pool – perhaps a dubious feature in mid-October but very attractive nonetheless. Also, at la Croix du Sud you do not dine with your hosts, and instead eat in nearby restaurants, with Inntravel providing a taxi there and back.
Our first day's circular walk was delightful, the only significant ascent being into Castelnau-de-Montmiral at the start of the day. We walked on quiet trails, across tiny sunlit streams, through vineyards and small copses and on deserted country lanes, with the stark outline of Castelnau visible on the horizon most of the day, whether in front of or behind us. There were few people around in the countryside and even fewer on the walk, except our American colleagues, Patrick and Christine, but the weather was glorious, the walking was easy and the colours were magnificent. In le Verdier we refreshed ourselves at the bar, which offered snacks and light meals also, then climbed over the last ridge to return to la Croix du Sud and the swimming pool. We did not swim for long, however! The next day saw us en route for Donnazac, a village so small that it boasts not even a single shop. The route was similar to that followed on the first day, equally pleasant and equally colourful, if slightly longer. Les Vents Bleus was no less charming than la Croix du Sud, the accommodation was palatial and the swimming pool seemed marginally warmer. Perhaps we were just getting used to it.
We survived the morning still dry and even had our goal in sight when the drizzle began. This soon became a real deluge, the sort of rain which only those accustomed to Mediterranean climates know how to cope with. By this time, however, we were in Cordes, grateful for the excellent signposting guiding us through the town. Dinner was up to the standard we had become accustomed to over the previous three days and the picnic which we were given the following morning was probably the best of the whole week. The rain had stopped overnight but it was still wet underfoot. There were two suggested routes out of Cordes, so we chose the longer one, which proved very pleasant and which, on my recommendation, has now become the definitive route. Much of the walking was as it had been the previous day – hilly but not too taxing. As on the first day we had enjoyed views of Castelnau for several kilometres, so today we could enjoy views of Cordes, particularly from the lane past the nearby château.
Our last full walk came the next day, with around thirteen kilometres to Najac. It starts very gently with several kilometres alongside the River Aveyron, climbs to a holiday village, meanders along tiny paths for a while, with Najac visible across the valley, drops steeply back to the Aveyron and then ends with a relatively stiff ascent. It's a climb to be taken slowly, not that this is a problem in such a dramatic setting, with château and church both open for visits if one chooses one's time carefully. I actually prefer Najac to Cordes. It has a less inflated reputation but somehow seems more natural. The narrow and hilly streets boast local craftsmen rather than souvenir shops. It seems to be much more of a village that people live and work in, while Cordes is a place dedicated primarily to visitors who, it must be admitted, have a great deal to goggle at. And Najac has the Oustal del Barry, an excellent hotel in which to spend the last two nights of a walk, with its perfect location, its fine garden, its delicious food and its panoramic views. Here we met not only Patrick and Christine, as usual, but also Michael and Carol, who had been one day ahead of us throughout and who were now, therefore, spending their second evening in Najac. Significantly, we all expressed considerable satisfaction with the walk, and agreed that it was a very attractive area.
Other Travel DiariesTo read about the experiences of other members of staff on their Inntravel holidays, visit our travel diaries archive.  |
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'To travel hopefully is a better thing than to arrive,' claimed Robert
Louis Stevenson. If by this he meant that anticipation is better than
realisation, then I don't completely agree with him, but I do try to make
the journey a vital, and enjoyable, part of any trip abroad.
Certainly nobody could offer a more friendly or gracious welcome than
Catherine Sordoillet at la Croix du Sud. It was around 6 o'clock in the
evening when we completed our cross-country marathon and drew up here.
Within half an hour we had been shown to our room, given a tour of the
rest of the house and introduced to other guests. Two of the other couples were doing the same Inntravel walk that we
were, one couple from Seattle having an identical timetable, while the
other couple, from Dorset, were a day ahead of us.
The shortest day on the walk is the third day, which leads to Cordes.
Just as Gordes is the ultimate village perché (hill-top village) in Provence,
so Cordes, or Cordes-sur-Ciel to give the town its full if rather pretentious
name, has to be considered the ultimate bastide (fortified village
built to a grid pattern). It lay twelve kilometres away, which seemed
very easy, but there were more hills than on the first two days and Cordes
itself, we knew from previous visits, was a town where tourists could
spend an afternoon exploring. Now the vineyards gave way to rounded hills
and, eventually, the sunshine gave way to grey clouds. 
Laguépie, our target, is built on two handsome rivers, the Viaur
and the Aveyron, the former being a popular haunt of herons. Some years
ago I had cycled through Laguépie and thought it rather an unattractive
little town but now, with more time to dawdle by the rivers, I revised
my opinion. It didn't match Cordes, and Najac was still to come, but it
was a pleasant enough little place and the hotel, though clearly the most
modest establishment on the walk, was comfortable and welcoming, with
excellent food: sea bass followed by fillet of veal,
for example.
There is a local loop available for the last day but we didn't actually
walk this. We checked that the paths were well marked and that the leaflet
available from the nearby tourist office gave clear directions. Then we
set off back to Britain, via the Loire Valley and Normandy, after a two-week holiday that had been both relaxing and invigorating. We re-crossed the
Channel in a force nine gale but survived without undue discomfort and
began planning our expeditions for the following year.