Day 6. Saturday 13 May 2016

There is a rather quaint single semi-circular staircase that connects the chambres on the first floor with the restaurant and bar situated on the ground floor. Old stone steps in part, then on a turn in the staircase they for some reason are of wooden construction. Mike on his way down to breakfast slips on the top of the wooden stairs and slides down the last ten steps on his backside and elbows causing so much racket that Madame and another member of staff came rushing and immediately attended to Jackie whom they assumed had slipped. Jackie giggling like a loon, I will concede loons laugh! Jackie assures her we are OK. Well the joke was certainly on me. The only thing hurt, thanks to my supple body was my pride. I swore Madame to secrecy telling her the others in my party would rib me mercilessly if ever they found out.

At break-fast we discussed the weather and all thought today was a “wet shirt day”.

Agreeing to meet within the next twenty minutes, we separated to purchase grub for today’s lunch. The Nixons accompanied us Stopportons. The first bread shop was not selling quiche today, Saturday. Quite common. The second depot du pain was. We bought a quiche for Jackie, pizza for Jill and meat pie for Peter. Whilst the Stopportons went in search of a Fromage shop, Pete and Jill returned to the car. We bought some Cantal Vieux, marvelled at the large selection of cheeses in what was a very light, clean and airy shop and made our way back to the square where we had yesterday afternoon parked the car.

Onward to Le Puy du Dome.

The Puy de Dôme, a giant among the Auvergne's volcanoes.

Reaching an altitude of 1,465 metres, the Puy de Dôme is not the highest peak in Auvergne, but it is the most iconic and certainly the most famous. From time immemorial, this volcano has been subject to ardent veneration, first by the Auvernge people (the ancestors of Auvergne’s inhabitants), then by the Gallo-Romans, who built a temple to the god Mercury during the first century AD on the top. How on earth did they get the stones to the top, cut and dress them?

In 1876, the Romans had long since gone, the Puy de Dôme became a hiking destination by the first tourists and the volcano enjoyed such success that an inn was built here, followed by a hotel. In 1907, a railway was constructed, linking it to Auvergne’s largest city, Clermont-Ferrand, a short distance away in the valley floor. Famous of course for Michelin Tyres. By 1920, it would be carrying thousands of visitors, drawn by the extraordinary views afforded from the top; a landscape made up of craters and cones, interlocking and overlapping as far as the Massif du Sancy to the south and the Plaine de la Limagne to the north, whilst Clermont–Ferrand lies to the East.

In 1926, a toll road replaced the steam-powered tramway and in 1957 the Puy de Dôme acquired the look it has today. With a massive radio and comms mast on top. It is as popular as ever – especially due to the Tour de France, for I believe one of the stages takes place here. It has more than 450,000 visitors every year.

Awarded the status of Grand Site de France in 2008, whatever that means, it is now having to meet the challenges posed by all those thousands of feet pounding away. Sustainable development is the watchword. To this end various refurbishment projects have been agreed to deal with problems posed by erosion and gullying. For us walkers that means well laid cinder paths up to the top on the South side on the Chemin des Muletiers and hundreds of wooden steps down the initially step descent on the North side. This chemin soon picks up a series of trails that continue to Puy Pariou slightly East, where we walked yesterday or swings West then South to return you via very pleasant tracks through numerous trees to the car park.

The top can now be reached all year round via an electric rack and pinion railway in about twenty minutes. Each of the carriages in the train has panoramic windows affording great views out over many of the eighty odd Puys that make up the chain. Whilst cars, campervans and other motor vehicles are prohibited. Or you can do what we did and slap a bergan on your back and tabb up in less than an hour!

Don’t even think about taking your push-bike up wearing your favourite yellow jersey as bikes are highly regulated and limited to official sporting events.

Within thirty minutes we were at the car park for Le Puy du Dome at Le Col de Ceyssat at 1077metres.

It was pretty empty. The track we were to take to the top was called Le sentir des muleiers. It suggested on the sign that it would take 50 minutes to tabb up. We all scoffed. Mike suggested someone had peeled off the hour sticker before the 50 mins bit. We set off. It was straight uphill. The track was good, thanks to recent Eco works and well defined but steep. No sooner had we started to walk than it started to rain. Jackets on. Rain stops. Jackets off. Continue. Rain starts. Jackets on. Rain starts, well you get the picture. No one was racing ahead. Seemingly every few hundred metres up on a bend in the track there was a bench next to a map of the surrounding area and view. We did use the odd opportunity to stop and take in the vista. Soon the tree line gave way to rock and grass. We plodded upward, a slow steady pace. Turning left then right up the switch backs. Numerous runners passed us. One guy we were certain had been up twice. When Suzie shouted after him to enquire he shouted back that this was his third time down the mountain.    Show off.

Part way up to Dome.

 Suddenly out of the mist we could see the huge mast which sits atop the summit. We were there at 1485 metres. It had taken 55 minutes so Mikes theory about missing parts of signposts was proved wrong! We were on a surprising large, in places fairly flat plateau. The most obvious feature was of course the last 100 metres upon which sat the temple of Mercure and the distinctive comms mast. None of which was apparent as it was totally socked in. You could barely see twenty metres!

Leaving the tree line.

The comms mast on the summit as seen through mist and rain.

All the way up Tim had been promising himself a hotdog but the Snack bar was closed. We entered the interpretation centre. It was large, clean, very informative but most of all dry and warm.

Fantastic views can be enjoyed from the top.

A train must have just arrived at the station disgorging passengers. As they crowded into the interpretation centre we went up to the café/restaurant which was open. Here we commandeered a few seats right next to the panoramic windows so as to enjoy the view. Some joke. It was now lashing with rain and you could barely see anything. We ordered coffee and tea. Tim decided he needed extra milk and was forced to pay 3E  for a small jug of it! I would have drunk the Tea black.

Jack and Jill took themselves off to the souvenir shop and bought fleeces with Le Puy du Dome logo on. Jill’s was a particularly striking colour. Not dissimilar to the lime green of my sit-on canoe. Jackie was a more conservative Teal blue. We agreed if things went horribly wrong on the descent Jill’s florescent jacket would be easily spotted by the rescue helicopter.

Mike took time to chat to a couple of retired Americans whom he realised were such when overhearing them in the shop earlier. They were very well dressed and exceptionally well informed. Mike’s opening gambit of “What state are you from?” brought the reply “New Mexico”. From there it was much idle banter. Much based “on the colonies” and the War of Independence. At one point the husband stated the only good thing about Texas was the road out. To which Mike suggested the “Daughters of The Republic” might take issue with him. He was a Californian. “That explains it all”. suggested Tim. They were both a very interesting couple but alas we had to bid our farewells. He asked where we were going next. When we said up the hill to the temple. He said “Good luck with that Puppy”. We took our leave. Turning to wave as we left the restaurant he shouted. “Adios Amigos”. Thank goodness there are still characters around like that old guy.

The weather or rather the rain seemed to slow somewhat and so we thought we would venture outside to visit the Temple of Mercure a few more meters up the hill. The mist lifted fractionally. Long enough for us to appreciate the scale of the temple. Or at least what had been excavated so far.

A signpost stated “Salle de Pic-nic” we went off in search of the room to use as a lunch stop. Just before the mist swirled in again we spotted it. We were fortunate as about 30 odd geriatric walkers exited as we walked in. The salle was a pretty large room, solid smooth concrete floor adorned with various info charts, a couple of vending machines for coffees and confectionary, a sink, bins and two loos. Loos are always welcome on top of a mountain!

Tim had ensconced himself on a bench and was tucking into his pizza slice before any of the others had entered the door. I suggested he was being either somewhat brave or foolhardy. “I’m starving”, was his reply but he obviously thought better of it and waited till Suzie and the others were seated before taking his second bite. Jackie brought our rations out and Mike took the burner out of his bergan and went outside to brew up.

Tim on his Pizza slice.

The walk down via the Northern route was started in mist, as had much of the walk been conducted that day but no sooner had the rack and pinion railcar passed us offering a photo op than the skies emptied. It was that bad The Stopportons put on their waterproof trousers. It hammered down.

  

The Northern route down.

On leaving the road we started down wooden steps, Jackie gave up counting after 270. They were mesmerizing. You needed to concentrate, as after a while the last step of a stage seemed to run into the next and you found yourself placing a foot where no step existed. There was a degree of sympathy for quite a large group of elderly folk. Some carrying large Bergan’s, who were flogging their way up to the summit. All, like us soaked. Many wearing ponchos, flapping in the wind. Within an hour and twenty-five minutes we were back at the Col de Ceyssat and the car and another twenty of so back at the hotel. Peter suggested a cidre in the “residents lounge” which we all enjoyed. Afterwards it was off to our respective rooms and a long hot shower.

We met in the bar for pre-dinner drinks at 1830hrs. As is usual Madame passes us an  assortment of very good quality olives and some homemade epices, minute pastry horns flavoured with spice. We are barely into our first drink when Le Chef Patron brings out some small sausisson to go with our aperitifs. Before long we are invited to take our seats for dinner.

We all opt for the 32E menu. I go with a crayfish mousse, followed by Guinea fowl breast, potatoes and carrots then into the cheese course. Here there was a degree of slight embarrassment as Mike’s pronunciation of the various cheese names caused Madame some degree of laughter. All to Mike’s cost. I could not pronounce the name of one of the three cheeses I had chosen from the cheese trolley correctly. It was well off it seems. Madame with devilment in her eye insisted I pronounce it correctly before I was allowed any. After my forth attempt the whole restaurant was looking at me silently willing me on. Probably as much so as they could continue their meal in peace as anything else.

The cheese course which Peter and Suzie declined, over, we started on the dessert course as is the way in France. Dan Angleterre you finish with cheese. Not so in France. Four of us chose a medley of chocolate and ginger, others opted for fresh fruit and sorbet. It was a superb meal. Mike was moved to approach Madame and in his halting French tell her how much we had all enjoyed the meal and would she please offer a round of drinks to the chef and kitchen staff and charge to Chambre onze. No wonder the chef came to the kitchen door to wish us “Bon nuit a demain”. I hope he was a panache and not a brandy man!

We all disappeared to our rooms to collect our plastic tooth beakers so that we might RV in the “residents lounge” for Port. We made it till 2150hrs when we gave in and went to bed.