Le Rhone: the River, the Valley, the Hillsides and the Wine

 THIS BLOG IS DEDICATED TO GEORGE VETTOR, WHOSE PASSION FOR BICYCLES BENEFITTED SO MANY.

FAREWELL, GEORGIO!

 

Looking down the Rhone river

When I first suggested to Minas that we spend the first week of our trip pedalling down the Rhone Valley, I envisaged finding a small flat road that gave me a view of the river most of the time. This was not the case.

The Rhône River is wide and beautiful; swollen this year with the extensive rains that have fallen, and are still falling, in this area. It is moving swiftly these days but, despite the speed, it is flat and shiny in the early morning light.

hydro-electric dam

It seemed odd to me to be looking at an enormous hydro -electric dam that would seem to generate enough power to service this region of France, if not the whole country and, at the same time to be able to see the plumes of the nuclear power plant, Tricastin, situated just over the adjacent hill.

boat coming out of lock

There is quite a bit of boat traffic on the river: from the long narrow cruise boats that we saw anchored in Vienne and which disgorged their small group of passengers into the cafes near the dock to the even longer barges carrying a variety of goods up and down the river. Next to the hydro-electric plant we crossed over was a set of locks to allow the boats to pass by.

cargo boat and blasted hill-side

The Rhone valley is narrow and the roads that run along it very busy. In fact the hillsides along the Rhone often run straight up from the river banks.  In some places the road has been blasted through the hillside leaving a large, rocky scar.

It gets tiring riding the flat ground of a valley road and it gets annoying to be constantly subjected to the traffic: the fumes, the noise, the speed. On the plus side there were some sections where we actually got to ride along-side the river. 

Le Rhone

On day two Minas decided to leave the busy highway and take us up the hillside to stay in a small town. Quite an effort for day two on the bike!  Of course, the next morning, down we came by another road to the river.

On day three we got to our hotel which happened to be on the busy valley road at lunch time. After eating the sandwich we had made at breakfast perched on the edge of the bed, we went downstairs for a coffee on the very nice terrasse crowded with mid-day diners.  Minas proposed that we have a rest and then get on the bikes, free of luggage, and take a trip to the nearby town of St Romain de Lerps which was reputed to have lovely views.  "How far?” I asked. “Nine kilometres,” he replied. Deducing that it would be all uphill as there was no other way to go, I figured it would be four or five kilometres up and then I could coast back down, so I agreed. 

view from St Romain de Lerps - 680 m

Not more than five minutes through the town we found ourselves climbing. Two hours and nine kilometres later I finally reached the belvedere of St Romain de Lerps.  I was not pleased. It was day three on the bikes and it was a tough ride from river level of a few metres to over 680 metres at the top.

view from St Romain de Lerps - 680m

 But I know why he did it.  He wanted to make sure I could do that kind of a ride without the bags in preparation for the Gorges de l’Ardeche ride which was coming up a few days later. I did it but when we got back at six, I had a shower and went downstairs for the most enormous dinner. And the view just wasn’t that spectacular although I must admit I slept like a log.

While I like the views of the river, I prefer to look much closer to the wheels of my bike as I ride. All along the Rhone, trees and bushes were in flower, purple and mauve flags crept under the fences, poppies grew with wild abandon along with their yellow flower mates and intensely pink rock plants glowed from the rocky hill-sides. They take my mind off the work of the bicycle and give me courage to get up the hills. But the most comforting view is that of my husband's back as he cycles the way in front of me.

It is in the valley that you find the largest cities. I was not looking forward to Montelimar. It conjured up childhood memories of Christmas and that Pot of Gold chocolate box. Remember the paper with the pictures of the chocolates and their names: one was Montelimar. Every year I had to recall what that tasted like. 

Well .... it is nougat and that is what the town in famous for.  Minas bought some of the soft and chewy nougat at the famous artisan maker, Escobar. The next day when we were sheltering under the eaves of a closed restaurant while it poured with rain, I was starving. So I bit off a large piece of nougat and promptly broke part of my tooth and its filling. That will teach me. I won’t likely forget that Montilimar on a chocolate box lid means chewy nougat.

our small hotel in Montelimar

However, I was surprised that Montelimar is such a pleasant small town. We had a lovely little hotel in an aristocratic old mansion. It was in Montelimar, during our afternoon wandering around, that we saw policemen on horseback in the pedestrian part of the town. They actually stopped a young man on a vespa and made him push his vehicle out of the shopping area. I felt like cheering.

And it was in Montelimar that we had our meal of the week at Le Grillon. We chose the menu at 17 euros which we thought was quite reasonable. It began with a salad of white asparagus with a terrine of foie gras. The main course was called a parillade de poissons which proved to be a selection of small pieces of different fish served in a sauce with oven-roasted green beans and rice. The portion was perfect which was good because I had the most decadent dessert called tiramisu tarte tatin. This was the French apple tarte tatin upside down in a parfait glass with the tiramisu mascarpone mix on top. All of this was served with a Cotes du Rhone red wine of the St Joseph winery.  Full marks to the chef for this one!

the vines of the valley and right up the hills

It is on those hillsides along the Rhone where the precious grapes are grown.   As I saw on one sign: Cotes du Rhone – le grand vignoble de la lumiere which speaks to the light of the south of France noted by painters throughout the ages.  They plant in the valley and they plant on the hillsides and they keep tearing up the forests to put in more and more vines.  Who can blame them? It is a very good business.

the vines climb every mountain

So I will happily cycle the valley and challenge myself on the hillsides and I will enjoy the views of the river but mostly I will appreciate that earned bottle of Cotes du Rhone with my dinner in the evening.

small boat on the Rhone