Through the Grand Canyon of Europe

My break at the TransVerdon lasted a whole week. So it was time to move on and finally complete the route. Two days of cycling remained until Moustiers-Saint-Marie, the supposed main goal. After that, the official route continued to Manosque, but it was just through the flatlands. The really exciting parts were therefore over.

The morning started off gloomy with high fog. This was probably also because Saint-André was located right by the Lac de Castillon, a huge reservoir of the Verdon. When the white veils dissolved after a while in the emerging power of the sun, the jewel shimmered turquoise in the valley below me. Beautiful to look at from above. Since I’m not exactly a big water rat, I was quite glad that the frosty temperatures provided a welcome excuse for not having to jump in. I much preferred to follow the once again wonderful trails to Castellane, the gateway to the Verdon Gorge. I suddenly found myself in a bustling crowd that was completely unfamiliar to me now - the place was a tourist hotspot. Everything was in abundance - people, souvenirs, shops, cameras, bakeries, ice cream, cafés, crêpes, tour buses, traffic chaos. Apparently, everyone wanted to see the Verdon Gorge. And that included all those people who were not trekking in the mountains where I had been roaming for the past few weeks. With a cup of coffee and a Brioche au Sucre, I took it all in.

It wasn't too surprising that the masses had chosen this place. Castellane, with its charming old town, was indeed pleasant to see. As a special landmark, a 184-meter-high limestone cliff crowned with the church Notre Dame du Roc loomed over the little town. It was easy to stay here. But for me, it was still a bit early for a longer stay. According to the map, I should now cycle along the gorge, and there were still a few nice bivouac spots before the next town. I wanted to reach those today.

The gorge impressed me even more than expected. The Verdon rushed through its deeply incised bed beneath me. The rock needles and towers stood like sentinels around me. A smoothly rideable path led through this breathtaking scenery in a steady up and down. By the way, none of the many tourists in Castellane had wandered here. Except for the occasional hiker, I was once again alone on the way. That was good too, as I certainly didn't need heavy traffic at my potential campsite. On a grassy plateau, I found a suitable spot. The location was exclusive, the view unobstructed. If only that annoyingly breezy, cold wind wasn't blowing, which drove me into the tent rather early.

The next morning, I bundled up really warmly. Hat, gloves, long pants. Nearly everything I had. The descent was still freezing cold. But I quickly forgot about that in my awe. In the glaring, red-tinted light of the morning sun, the settlement of Rougon impressively clung to the rocks above the gorge. The slowly intensifying sun rays and the effort of the next uphill contributed to me gradually shedding layer after layer of winter warmth. After the second breakfast in the friendly little town of La Palud sur Verdon, there was just one last pass left. As expected, it dragged on forever. But Moustiers-Saint-Marie was not far away now. A rather technically bumpy downhill formed the worthy finale before I rolled into the destination.

What awaited me should be one of the most beautiful villages in France. Naturally, I wasn't the only one who had heard about this. It was significantly busier than in Castellane. And rightly so - the village nestled breathtakingly in a gorge under a rock wall and was strictly divided into two parts by the mountain stream. Despite the hustle and bustle, Moustiers had managed to retain its special charm. A quite suitable place to enjoy oneself and celebrate the conclusion of the TransVerdon in style.

I stayed one more day for a day trip that would take me to another part of the Verdon Gorge and combine it with demanding techflow trails. Then, I had to say goodbye to the last foothills of the Alpine arc. To reach Marseille, I now had to cross a wide, flat plain.