44°C in the shade!

We're wandering around in the far north of France and Gibraltar is still far away. Unexpectedly, the opportunity arises to experience a stage of the Tour de France in the Pyrenees. So we decide to use the upcoming hot days to continue our journey into the mountains in the south of France.

Extensive siestas are planned, preferably in places with access to water. Around 1:00 p.m., we look for a suitable place and stay there at least until 5:00 p.m. For example, we find short-term, light cooling in the shade of the trees on the Nantes-à-Brest Canal. The thermometer climbs to a proud 40°C, the wind blows hot oven air over our heated bodies, the water in the canal is warm and we can stay in it until the next Penichette approaches.

Unfortunately, bathing is prohibited in the municipal, often artificially created Plan d'Eau. But sometimes luck is on your side, the shade under the plane trees in these places invites you to picnic and linger, and if you climb over the dike and accept that your legs, arms, and face get scratched by thorny undergrowth, you can be rewarded with the clear and cooling water of a stream. This will bring you back to operating temperature and you will be rewarded with fresh blackberries.

Unfortunately, climbing back to the hideout is very sweaty, the temperature has risen by another 2-3°C in the meantime, and the shade has moved further. The water, which is supposed to prevent your dehydration, has taken on the heat of the hot desert wind, and at some point you have to get into the heated car and continue your journey.

In the foothills of the Pyrenees, we make our final stop for the night. Even at 9:00 p.m., it is still 36°C, feels like 45°C. Everything in the mini camper is hot, the catering box, the bedding, the clothes, the food. We don't have a refrigerator, so we pack everything in thick layers of blankets, pillows, and towels. But today, every attempt is futile. In addition, I buy runaway cheese, the camembert and the extremely tasty Brie de Meaux have lost all shape and resemble fondue.

The Adour River comes from the mountains, but is dammed up here and flows only moderately and sluggishly.

We have chosen a small parking lot for the night, there is still a lot of activity here. Vehicles full of large and small families come and go, people know each other, chat, and are happy despite the still prevailing heat.

We follow the noisy people and can't stop marveling!

In most cases, the rivers in France are heavily regulated. They are dammed up, embanked, and used for electricity generation. Often, only a trickle of water remains at the end. However, the state is now trying to restore these rivers to their natural state. For example, a gigantic fish passage was built here on the Adour River, which is intended to facilitate the passage of the dam for the fish.

No swimming allowed! Several clear signs emphasize this.

Today, however, the families of the surrounding area are frolicking in the fish passage, who can blame them. Each family has its own bathing pool and there is still one left for us! Hurray, into the pool. The Adour River is flowing with clear, cooling, bubbling water. I am immediately swept away in the whirlpool, spun around in circles, the good rubber Crocs pull my feet to the surface, and my head is mercilessly pushed under water. What fun! Eventually, I start feeling dizzy and Zappa has to pull me out, I can't free myself from the whirlpool alone.

Cooled down, refreshed, and happy, we return to our still-hot mobile home. We wait a long time for a refreshing breeze, which starts around 3:00 a.m. At least.

Surprisingly, the next morning is gray and cool. We take another forbidden bath in the fish passage, are happy that we can cool down our belongings today and eagerly set out on the last kilometers to the 17th Tour stage at Col d'Aspin.