On the road again...

Day 8

After the deluge of the previous day, we were elated to find a mostly sun-filled sky in the morning. It was time to leave Mas Lou Albeihs.

As we packed up the car again and said our goodbyes, I considered ditching the majority of my clothing in order to fit the kittens and Bibou in my suitcase. Decided that trying to get the animals through customs probably wouldn't work and hence, ditched the idea.

We headed west, taking the same drive we had attempted yesterday. What a difference a day makes! Driving through the Causse Mejean was simply stunning. A causse is a limestone plateau, and Mejean has the highest altitude of all the plateaus in the Cevennes. Due to the high altitude, it can be quite hot and arid in the summer months. However, thanks our loyal companions- the rain and the tramontane (the langeudoc mistral), the air was refreshing and cool. The verdant landscape shimmered in the morning sun. The pine forests and wildflowers (clover, oleander, lavender and poppies) carpeting the landscape filled the mountain air with an incredible sweet perfume.

Meyrueis, another picturesque village nestled in the mountains, was our pit stop for lunch. From there, we continued through the Gorges de la Jonte. As we drove through the narrow canyon, we marvelled at the views towering above- limestone cliffs, rocky outcroppings and the 'castle of the vultures', where we viewed hordes of vultures circling high in the sky. At Peyreleau, the Gorges de la Jonte and the Gorges du Tarn converged, and we were treated to yet more stunning views in all directions.

The next milestone on our journey was Millau- to view and drive across the famous bridge. Officially opened to traffic in December of 2004, it is the tallest vehicular bridge in the world. It was built to ease traffic congestion (pre-bridge, there were huge traffic jams in Millau due to travellers from the north heading towards the Mediterranean). I was awed at how it merged with the natural environment. The bridge was a beautiful work of art, dancing across the landscape. The graceful linear architecture evoked the image a majestic sailboat, sailing across valley. DH marvelled at the engineering.

I spend alot of time on the Fodor's and Slow Travel message boards researching our trips. It was on the Fodor's boards, that I had read several postings from people who were terrified at the thought of driving over this bridge. So, I was curious to see what our reaction would be.

To my surprise, the drive over wasn't frightening at all. After the roads we'd been on, it would have taken alot to more to make us nervous. The traffic lanes were wide. The road felt solid. The clear guardrails that lined the side of the bridge were high enough to give a sense of security and still offer spectacular views of the valley as we drove across.

Bridge experience completed, we hopped on the autoroute towards our next stop- Roujan.

Roujan was a last minute addition to our trip, due to a lapse on our part, that resulted in our only having reservations for two nights at Lou Albeihs instead of four. Our gite was at the edge of the village and run by a very sweet old lady whom my DH immediately nicknamed "Madame Bouquet"- a reference to the character of Mrs. Bucket on the British TV show "Keeping Up Appearances". The nickname was earned because of her high-pitched sing-song way of speaking- not the humorous misguided snobbery of the sitcom character.

We hauled our bags up the stairs to our room and thought we might spend a relaxing evening, having a picnic out by the pool in the tiny yard. Alas, Mme Bouquet seemed to think the Gites de France were policing her every move. As I tried to let myself through the gate into pool area, she hurried out of the house. Like an over protective doting great aunt (the one you loved but dreaded), she kneaded her hands, as she explained to me that 'the rules' said she couldn't allow guests into the pool area if the pool wasn't 'open'. OK, it was time to ditch that idea.

We explored the entirety of Roujan on foot in about ten minutes...and decided it was a one horse village a little lacking in charm. So out came the map and the guidebook. Beziers was only twenty minutes away and it had a large park. So we grabbed our picnic supplies and hopped back in the car.

In Beziers, we headed straight to the pretty park, Plateau des Poetes. There, we spread out our blanket, laid out our meal, uncorked a bottle of wine, and spent a lovely evening just being.