Waking Up overlooking the Rhone
It was a bit nippy in the night but I did sleep well and woke up top a magnificent view. I set off for an early morning stroll to explore the beautiful village I'd just being sleeping next, La Garde Adhemar.
As it was so early it felt deserted but by the end of the walk normal activity seemed to be resuming. The narrow ancient streets were like a maze enclosed by a high wall or buildings which made up the wall. Try as I might, I couldn't find a place where I could actually walk on top of the wall for a really good view of the surrounding countryside. Doubtless, you'd get an exceptional view from top of the church tower but it was closed and I doubt they'd let you go to the top anyway. It's a tiny place, but such is the compact nature of the streets that at one point I got lost. Luckily, as it is so small, you can't stay lost for long.
After stretching my legs, it was back to the car and start my next adventure, a trip to see the famous cave art of the south of France. I returned to Pierrelatte, where I'd watched the Germany v Ukraine game the night before, and had coffee, a croissant (there's no "r" sound there, when you say that, aussies!) and a chocolatine. They very kindly let me plug and do my blog catching up there. It took a bit longer that I thought so I dropped behind my schedule a little as I headed off to the hills to find the cave art museum.
It has long been one of my dreams to see the Lascaux caves but it is now closed to the public due to evidence of damage by continual exposure to visitors. But in 1994 another, even older cave full of art was found, called the Chavet Cave. These cave paintings were also sophisticated and dated to around 30,000 years ago. Impressively, the French decided to create a massive full scale replica of the cave when it was still in a pristine state - so that the same problems encountered as Lascaux could be avoided. The replica cave, a massive work of art in its own right, dutifully replicates the original almost exactly and, of course, can have unlimited visitors. The Caverne du Pont d'Arc has a great museum about the lives of the early moderns (called Aurignacians) that made the paintings, although I did wonder if their depiction of these people as essentially white skinned European looking was accurate. The first people to migrate into Europe would undoubtedly have been dark skinned, as we all descended from Africans and it's interesting to speculate how quickly the selection for greater Vitamin D synthesis as people moved further north would have taken.
Anyway, so that was my destination. It was about a 45 minute drive from Pierrelatte, which including some stunning views over the valley. It's very well organised and you basically get a 50 minute guided tour of the cave. As I arrived at about 11 am I had to wait an hour for my tour but that was actually perfect because it gave me a set amount of time to explore the museum, take in the amazing views and also grab a toasted baguette.
You have to suspend your critical thinking a little, as you know that what you are actually seeing is only a few years old, made by artists still alive, and not 30,000. But the cave is exceptionally carefully reconstructed visually (the actual shape of the stalactites and rocks were scanned and reconstructed using modern technology such as 3D printing) and it was a privilege to get close to what the actually art would. I must admit, about half way round, my own neanderthal mind started to kick in and remind me about the Spain v Czech Republic game that was going to start at 3pm. So, as the guide was explaining things exclusively in (very fast) French and my English speaking headphone guide was a little ahead of her, I felt comfortable skipping away and ahead and then... away.
As it was so early it felt deserted but by the end of the walk normal activity seemed to be resuming. The narrow ancient streets were like a maze enclosed by a high wall or buildings which made up the wall. Try as I might, I couldn't find a place where I could actually walk on top of the wall for a really good view of the surrounding countryside. Doubtless, you'd get an exceptional view from top of the church tower but it was closed and I doubt they'd let you go to the top anyway. It's a tiny place, but such is the compact nature of the streets that at one point I got lost. Luckily, as it is so small, you can't stay lost for long.
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| Feeling good in the morning after another kip in the car |
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| The square |
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| Liberte Egalite Fraternite |
After stretching my legs, it was back to the car and start my next adventure, a trip to see the famous cave art of the south of France. I returned to Pierrelatte, where I'd watched the Germany v Ukraine game the night before, and had coffee, a croissant (there's no "r" sound there, when you say that, aussies!) and a chocolatine. They very kindly let me plug and do my blog catching up there. It took a bit longer that I thought so I dropped behind my schedule a little as I headed off to the hills to find the cave art museum.
Cave Paintings and the arrival of Modern Humans into Europe
For years, some the oldest evidence of early art in modern humans in Europe was that of the caves of Lascaux, near Montignac. They are estimated to be about 17,000 years old, quite a long time after the first evidence of early modern humans arriving in Europe, around 40,000. It's an interesting point to note, therefore, that modern humans arrived in Australia before they did in Europe. Unlike Australia, though, Europe was already inhabited by another closely related subspecies, the neanderthals. It was therefore thought that the adoption of art had been a gradual progression after moderns arrived here. |
| Famous Cave Painting from Lascaux |
It has long been one of my dreams to see the Lascaux caves but it is now closed to the public due to evidence of damage by continual exposure to visitors. But in 1994 another, even older cave full of art was found, called the Chavet Cave. These cave paintings were also sophisticated and dated to around 30,000 years ago. Impressively, the French decided to create a massive full scale replica of the cave when it was still in a pristine state - so that the same problems encountered as Lascaux could be avoided. The replica cave, a massive work of art in its own right, dutifully replicates the original almost exactly and, of course, can have unlimited visitors. The Caverne du Pont d'Arc has a great museum about the lives of the early moderns (called Aurignacians) that made the paintings, although I did wonder if their depiction of these people as essentially white skinned European looking was accurate. The first people to migrate into Europe would undoubtedly have been dark skinned, as we all descended from Africans and it's interesting to speculate how quickly the selection for greater Vitamin D synthesis as people moved further north would have taken.
Anyway, so that was my destination. It was about a 45 minute drive from Pierrelatte, which including some stunning views over the valley. It's very well organised and you basically get a 50 minute guided tour of the cave. As I arrived at about 11 am I had to wait an hour for my tour but that was actually perfect because it gave me a set amount of time to explore the museum, take in the amazing views and also grab a toasted baguette.
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| Stunning views of the Rhone Valley |
You have to suspend your critical thinking a little, as you know that what you are actually seeing is only a few years old, made by artists still alive, and not 30,000. But the cave is exceptionally carefully reconstructed visually (the actual shape of the stalactites and rocks were scanned and reconstructed using modern technology such as 3D printing) and it was a privilege to get close to what the actually art would. I must admit, about half way round, my own neanderthal mind started to kick in and remind me about the Spain v Czech Republic game that was going to start at 3pm. So, as the guide was explaining things exclusively in (very fast) French and my English speaking headphone guide was a little ahead of her, I felt comfortable skipping away and ahead and then... away.
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| Auragnacian man - looks like us |
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| The Museum is worth a visit on its own |
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| My ticket for the tour of the replica cave |
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| You weren't allow to photograph the replica cave but this was what it was like inside |
Valence
The journey to Lyon went pretty well. I am very impressed with Google SatNav and have now perfected the technique of having my mobile sat on my lap as I drive to keep tabs on the directions. With BluTooth to listen to podcasts, GPS to track my geographical position and the screen constantly showing me where to go, it's not surprising that the battery drains, even as it is being recharged but I made to as far as Valence before the Spain v Czech Republic game was due to start. After my disappointment of missing the Northern Ireland v Poland game last night, I made sure I found a sports bar and found a convenient looking parking spot right next to a big pedestrian area. Google was actually telling me drive down there, but I thought I'd better park and walk!
The pub itself looked very English and was called the Grand Hotel. I watched the Spain v Czech game with three Frenchmen who all wanted Spain to win. A missed the first 5 minutes. Spain completely dominated the match but kept failing to score and it looked like it would turn into a travesty of justice when the Czechs had a golden opportunity to score themselves close the end. But Pique grabbed the last gasp winner for Spain to get the result they deserved.
After the match I legged it back to the car as I had to try to get to Lyon as soon as possible so as not to miss too much of the Sweden v Ireland match. I turned the car around and was about to follow Google's advice how to get to Lyon when suddenly I realised there was a big red bollard blocking the road. I must have parked in a street that has restricted access. The bollard obviously wasn't up when I arrived. After a brief confusion with the controller via an intercom - he thought I was trying to get in, not out - he lowered the bollard and I was off.
The heavens opened on the way which slowed my progress. I do get nervous driving at 130km/h at the best of times, but when it's chucking it down and there is spray everywhere I have to slow right down. As 6pm passed I listened to the radio coverage of the Ireland match and although I hardly understood a word, I could tell it was a very different way of covering the match than BBC 5 Live. It was kind of like a studio chat with a guy at the match butting in excitedly whenever there was an incident of note.
The SatNav, again was fantastic and I made sure I followed it very accurately right up to the point where I went down to the hotel car park. It was a big relief to park the car safely and take my bags out knowing that I had no driving to do now for several days.
I went upstairs to the reception to check in to find I'd made my first big mistake of the holiday. Somehow I'd got iot in my head that Monday, 13th June was the day my friends from Penn and I were meeting up but, in fact it was Tuesday! Oops! The receptionist told me they were full and that I might try Novotel next door. First, I sat down and loaded Booking.com to search there. There was very little availability and what there was was in the hundreds of euros! Eek! So, as my heart sank, I began to think I was going to have go back down to the car and drive out of Lyon again and sleep in the Renault one more night. As I picked up my bag and headed towards the lift down to the car park the receptionist asked me if I'd found a place yet.
"No, not yet!" I replied.
"I might be able to help you after all" she said.
"That would be brilliant." To be honest, I'd be happy sleeping in the corridor!"
Luckily they'd just had a cancellation and a single, small room had become available, price 70 Euros. Fantastic.
So, once I'd dumped my bags, I had to get my priorities right and watched the last 15 minutes of Sweden's 1-1 draw with Ireland in Paris. I missed both goals but I saw them later. Ireland had scored first and then Sweden had equalised after the big Swedish superstar Zlatan Ibrahimovic had used his power and pace to get a low hard cross in which poor Ciaran Clark headed into his own net. The bit I saw looked feisty but Ireland seemed to have done a solid job on the PSG dangerman Ibrahimovic.
After that, it was finally time for a lovely shower and time to get changed (into my Santos shirt) and out to watch the final match, another huge one, Belgium v Italy. The internet seemed to indicate that the best bar in Lyon to watch football was a place called "The Wallace" and I hailed down a cab to take me there. I can see why. Great atmosphere, lots of screens and great beer were to be had.
The trouble in Marseille had left a bad taste in my mouth and you can sense disapproval from many people when they sense you are a football fan. I can't help but bare some of the guilt and shame for those England fans, even though I had nothing to do with them and I have been drinking pretty modestly here in France. But fifteen minutes in "THe Wallace" and the feel-good factor was definitely back. The Italians were playing the Belgians, two fancied teams, and the bar was packed with fans, all eagerly watching. A guy in a Gremio shirt noticed my Santos shirt and asked me if I was Brazilian. Thirty seconds later we were engrossed in conversation and it went on all night with scores of others.
A group of Welsh fans came in and once I'd said that I wanted them to do well and that I had a Welsh shirt and was a Manic Street Preachers fans, they insisted on buying me a beer. A few pints later, after Italy had ruthlessly brushed a disappointing Belgian side away 2-0, we were singing Manic's songs together - very badly, it has to be said.
I also bumped into some low-key looking England fans who, like me, had been to Marseille. They had some stories to tell, including anecdotes that when the flares went off in the Russian end, it was a signal for some of their "fighters" to carry out a pre-ordained plan to attack the English. Apparently some had run to the back of the stand where the exits were so they could attack the English as they fled. This is why so many tried to climb over the barriers to their left and climb down into the corners. Very scary that because towards the back it was a massive drop to get out. Luckily no-one was seriously injured doing that.
After The Wallace closed I went into one more bar on the way back to the hotel where I had a chat with some Northern Ireland fans. They were all, to a man, convinced that the UK should leave the EU and nothing I could say would change their minds.
I think it could be a very scary future if people don't come to their senses on this.
Aljice
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| Valence was rainy too |
After the match I legged it back to the car as I had to try to get to Lyon as soon as possible so as not to miss too much of the Sweden v Ireland match. I turned the car around and was about to follow Google's advice how to get to Lyon when suddenly I realised there was a big red bollard blocking the road. I must have parked in a street that has restricted access. The bollard obviously wasn't up when I arrived. After a brief confusion with the controller via an intercom - he thought I was trying to get in, not out - he lowered the bollard and I was off.
The heavens opened on the way which slowed my progress. I do get nervous driving at 130km/h at the best of times, but when it's chucking it down and there is spray everywhere I have to slow right down. As 6pm passed I listened to the radio coverage of the Ireland match and although I hardly understood a word, I could tell it was a very different way of covering the match than BBC 5 Live. It was kind of like a studio chat with a guy at the match butting in excitedly whenever there was an incident of note.
The SatNav, again was fantastic and I made sure I followed it very accurately right up to the point where I went down to the hotel car park. It was a big relief to park the car safely and take my bags out knowing that I had no driving to do now for several days.
I went upstairs to the reception to check in to find I'd made my first big mistake of the holiday. Somehow I'd got iot in my head that Monday, 13th June was the day my friends from Penn and I were meeting up but, in fact it was Tuesday! Oops! The receptionist told me they were full and that I might try Novotel next door. First, I sat down and loaded Booking.com to search there. There was very little availability and what there was was in the hundreds of euros! Eek! So, as my heart sank, I began to think I was going to have go back down to the car and drive out of Lyon again and sleep in the Renault one more night. As I picked up my bag and headed towards the lift down to the car park the receptionist asked me if I'd found a place yet.
"No, not yet!" I replied.
"I might be able to help you after all" she said.
"That would be brilliant." To be honest, I'd be happy sleeping in the corridor!"
Luckily they'd just had a cancellation and a single, small room had become available, price 70 Euros. Fantastic.
So, once I'd dumped my bags, I had to get my priorities right and watched the last 15 minutes of Sweden's 1-1 draw with Ireland in Paris. I missed both goals but I saw them later. Ireland had scored first and then Sweden had equalised after the big Swedish superstar Zlatan Ibrahimovic had used his power and pace to get a low hard cross in which poor Ciaran Clark headed into his own net. The bit I saw looked feisty but Ireland seemed to have done a solid job on the PSG dangerman Ibrahimovic.
 |
| Ireland still looking for a winner towards the end |
After that, it was finally time for a lovely shower and time to get changed (into my Santos shirt) and out to watch the final match, another huge one, Belgium v Italy. The internet seemed to indicate that the best bar in Lyon to watch football was a place called "The Wallace" and I hailed down a cab to take me there. I can see why. Great atmosphere, lots of screens and great beer were to be had.
The trouble in Marseille had left a bad taste in my mouth and you can sense disapproval from many people when they sense you are a football fan. I can't help but bare some of the guilt and shame for those England fans, even though I had nothing to do with them and I have been drinking pretty modestly here in France. But fifteen minutes in "THe Wallace" and the feel-good factor was definitely back. The Italians were playing the Belgians, two fancied teams, and the bar was packed with fans, all eagerly watching. A guy in a Gremio shirt noticed my Santos shirt and asked me if I was Brazilian. Thirty seconds later we were engrossed in conversation and it went on all night with scores of others.
 |
| Lovely fellahs from France and Brazil |
I also bumped into some low-key looking England fans who, like me, had been to Marseille. They had some stories to tell, including anecdotes that when the flares went off in the Russian end, it was a signal for some of their "fighters" to carry out a pre-ordained plan to attack the English. Apparently some had run to the back of the stand where the exits were so they could attack the English as they fled. This is why so many tried to climb over the barriers to their left and climb down into the corners. Very scary that because towards the back it was a massive drop to get out. Luckily no-one was seriously injured doing that.
After The Wallace closed I went into one more bar on the way back to the hotel where I had a chat with some Northern Ireland fans. They were all, to a man, convinced that the UK should leave the EU and nothing I could say would change their minds.
I think it could be a very scary future if people don't come to their senses on this.
Aljice
Lyon
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