Once upon a time in France
Posted: Sun 16 Jun, 2013 12:11 pmFrom my notes on the trip:
.......then, suddenly, all other water experiences became second rate.
We’d driven there in fog and light rain, winding over a 4,000ft mountain pass, saying goodbye to Switzerland for the last time and eventually heading up a dead end road past a lovely lake with some unattended open boats accumulating precipitation. It costs 4 euros to park but you get a free (and welcome) map before trudging off past the lone tourist shop and on the path adjacent the river.
That’s about where the gasps start. Just 100 metres in and the largest and most dramatic fall, L’Eventail, can be seen through the foliage but travel another 20 metres and, off to your right is the prettiest of all the falls called La Tuffiere though it’s but a sidestream to the main event.
Now L’Eventail becomes clear. Claimed to be a 65 metre drop, it’s not the height that thrills us but the volume. It’s clearly in flood, great sheets of water plunging, spraying and dashing themselves on the rocks beneath. As we approach, normal conversation becomes impossible, drowned by the furore.
If that was all we came to see we would have departed satisfied, but nay, we climbed above and the enshrouding mist and moss laden forest added to the enchantment of the next fall, Grand Saut, itself draped by the sparkling leafiness of the vibrant spring shoots. At 60 metres it’s also impressive but difficult to get a decent photo of, so I slipped over a couple of barriers to get something decent.
We moved on, at times even the trail was overcome with the volume, steps were slippery, fallen leaves saturated and a danger sign with skill and crossbones and a death warning appeared but we walked on by because that’s only for the French.
The further we went the harder it was getting to see anything as rain laden clouds moved inexorably up the valley. We called it quits, apparently, according to the map, having seen the best of it. So we left for our new digs just over two hours away.
.......then, suddenly, all other water experiences became second rate.
We’d driven there in fog and light rain, winding over a 4,000ft mountain pass, saying goodbye to Switzerland for the last time and eventually heading up a dead end road past a lovely lake with some unattended open boats accumulating precipitation. It costs 4 euros to park but you get a free (and welcome) map before trudging off past the lone tourist shop and on the path adjacent the river.
That’s about where the gasps start. Just 100 metres in and the largest and most dramatic fall, L’Eventail, can be seen through the foliage but travel another 20 metres and, off to your right is the prettiest of all the falls called La Tuffiere though it’s but a sidestream to the main event.
Now L’Eventail becomes clear. Claimed to be a 65 metre drop, it’s not the height that thrills us but the volume. It’s clearly in flood, great sheets of water plunging, spraying and dashing themselves on the rocks beneath. As we approach, normal conversation becomes impossible, drowned by the furore.
If that was all we came to see we would have departed satisfied, but nay, we climbed above and the enshrouding mist and moss laden forest added to the enchantment of the next fall, Grand Saut, itself draped by the sparkling leafiness of the vibrant spring shoots. At 60 metres it’s also impressive but difficult to get a decent photo of, so I slipped over a couple of barriers to get something decent.
We moved on, at times even the trail was overcome with the volume, steps were slippery, fallen leaves saturated and a danger sign with skill and crossbones and a death warning appeared but we walked on by because that’s only for the French.
The further we went the harder it was getting to see anything as rain laden clouds moved inexorably up the valley. We called it quits, apparently, according to the map, having seen the best of it. So we left for our new digs just over two hours away.
C'est chouette.