Walking in France. With practised efficiency we packed up, ate our muesli and were in the village buying bread before 7 am. As we crossed the church square, Max and Sue appeared at their hotel window, scantily dressed, and posed for a photo. They did not seem at all sorry that we were leaving without them.
We followed the river Cosanne out of town, admiring the long vegetable plots stretching down from the backs of the houses to the water. A delightful feature of many of the gardens was a row of flowers amongst the neat green of the crops. Several people were already out working at this most satisfying of summer projects.
When we left the houses we were on the GR7, and before long it climbed laboriously up through a forest to the top of the cliffs, from where we could see the enclosed valley continuing upstream. At its end is the so-called End of the World le Bout du Monde, where the river springs out of the rock , but we could not see that far.
Our way took us across the plateau through a pine plantation and out into open fields, where we skirted a large quarry, hidden from view by an embankment. I was driven by curiosity to clamber up, hauling on poppies and buttercups, to look into the immense void. At the other edge of the plateau the track followed the brink of the cliffs and we could see the vineyards of Baubigny far beneath our feet through the trees.
Then we joined a road that swept us down to Orches, a picturesque hamlet wedged into a corner below the cliff line.
