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COAST to COTE, A WALK OF 1,100 MILES from CAEN to CASSIS: THE DIARY - Britain has long had its Coast-to-Coast Walk, Wainwright’s great invention now firmly established as a National Trail. I had long dreamed of walking a French equivalent; a “Coast to Côte”. A glance at a map, however, will reveal one distinct problem, the sheer scale of France—a Channel to Med walk would, at the shortest, be 3 or 4 times the length of the British equivalent.The French Grande Randonnée (GR) network is very extensive and many potential routes offer themselves. For ease of access, a route starting at a Channel port is an obvious incentive. For the purist the route must also lead, wholly on GR.s, to the Mediterranean. My personal Coast to Côte route, designed using the French National GR route map, was to follow the GR 36 from the port of Ouistreham (Caen) to the Loire, then follow in succession the GR 3, GR 46, GR 4, GR 9 and finally the GR 98 to emerge on the coast of the Mediterranean at Cassis near Marseilles. This journey of 1,800 kilometres or 1,100 miles is clearly beyond the holidaying capabilities of even the most determined backpacker and would require an undreamed of understanding from your employer. To solve the problem requires the traditional problem-solving approach, chop it up into smaller sections, a week here, a fortnight there, then stitch it back together into a glorious mental whole. – Stephen E., England, 11 December '01 3rd INSTALLMENT, DAYS SEVENTEEN TO TWENTY-FOUR: Mayet to Montbazon, 140 miles on the GRs 36, 3 and 46, Days One to Eight - Caen to Saint-Denis sur Sarthon on the GR 36, 205 kilometers or 127 miles Days Eight to Sixteen - Saint-Denis sur Sarthon to Mayet on the GR 36, 194 kilometers or 121 miles Days Twenty-five to Thirty-one - Montbazon to la Châtre, on the GR 46, 167 kilometers or 105 miles Day Seventeen - Mayet to Le Lude. 24 kilometres. The sky was the kind of blue you always get on those clear days which will turn showery. A few light cumulus clouds were scudding along in the fresh breeze as we decanted from the taxi which had brought us the short distance from Le Mans. A gloomy prognostication, of less than 5 hours before rain, from the young driver left us hoping he would be wrong. The GR 36 had described a winding path to reach Mayet but now it struck off determinedly south from the village square, a quick right, then left, took us into a lane and after a kilometre the surface changed to dirt and a broad track strode over the low hill forming the southern edge of the basin in which Mayet sat. Looking back to the north the forests between here and Le Mans barred any distant views. As usual we left all people behind as soon as we struck the path; our way clear along open tracks through hedgeless fields. After an hour of steady southern progress, a band of poplars ahead marked a shallow valley and its accompanying stream. A concrete bridge crossed the beck and the path turned to head south-westwards. Leaving the shelter of the poplars we came across a small lake and were delighted when a thin wake passing across resolved itself into an otter, which entertained us with a few minutes of his time. The path, still heading south-westwards, became a little more intricate and we had to pay careful attention to the red & white markers as it picked its way through a series of fields, orchards and small woodlands. Birdsong was loud and persistent dominated by Greenfinches, Chaffinches and Robins; a pleasant accompaniment. Eventually after an almost 10 kilometre stretch of path we emerged onto roads, but this was only a brief interlude to enable a crossing of the Le Mans - Tours railway line. The path resumed after a kilometre of road walking and followed an intricate stretch of field paths, tracks and lanes, gradually heading south-westwards before emerging for a well-earned lunch at the tiny village of Coulongé. We were pretty pleased with ourselves to have covered 16 kilometres before lunch and the weather although cold and blustery had, at least, stayed dry. As is becoming a ritual on these walks, we headed straight for the village bar where an excellent crusty loaf and ham were soon ample reward for our efforts. A lazy beer or two later, all was well with the world. South of Coulongé the path climbed steadily onto a low ridge and we disappeared into the depths of yet another state forest. Luckily this one was fairly well mixed with both conifers and a range of deciduous trees—so not as oppressive as some further north. After a brief encounter with the usual farmhouse dogs whilst passing through a clearing the path emerged onto an old Roman road heading determinedly west towards Le Lude and the crossing of Le Loir. The spires and turrets of Le Lude and its chateau came into view as we cleared the forest high on a spur above the river. Unfortunately leaving the trees also revealed the dark and threatening clouds, we had feared all day. Our last 3 kilometres into Le Lude became a race against the showers, successfully won despite the distractions of a vintage British Sports Car rally passing us as we entered the village. Large spots were starting to fall as we reached the doors of the Hostellerie du Maine and within seconds of gaining sanctuary the heavens opened. Sitting in the room, watching a series of very spiteful showers rattling off the roofs of the town, was quite satisfying as, for once, we had our revenge on the weather of Sarthe. Later, after an excellent dinner, we were able to admire, distantly, the fireworks from the Son-et-Lumière performance from the chateau, a pleasant end to a fine and lucky days walking. back to top Day Eighteen - Le Lude to Noyant. 29 kilometres. This day and the following had been a planning nightmare. Our ancient GR Topo-Guide shows a gently curving route first to the south-east then bending back south-west, through an area totally devoid of accommodation, however, the 1:50,000 and 1:25,000 I.G.N maps showed a differing route looping to the west. This much longer route did, at least, have the virtue of passing through a place with somewhere to stay. Extensive research couldn’t resolve the dispute as differing dated sources were inconsistent in showing a change from one route to the other. We were forced to set off, unsure as to which route would be way-marked. An 18 kilometre day with a 6 kilometre walk-off or a 29 kilometre day would result depending upon the vagaries of the red-and-white blobs! To cap it all Sarthe had a sting in its tail, as we left the hotel a stinging rain sent us scurrying back to don waterproofs. As if to mock us, we finished Sarthe as we had spent the majority of our time there, wearing full waterproofs and trudging beneath lowering skies. With supreme irony the rain-front cleared within minutes of our crossing the brook that marked the transition to the next départment of Maine-et-Loire. However, the clearance only marked a return to unstable showery weather with occasional sudden downpours marring the day. The path climbed steadily through pleasant woodland to reach a ridge where we briefly crossed to the next départment of Indre-et-Loire for a few minutes before returning to Maine-et-Loire. Apprehension was building as we were approaching the junction of the two potential routes, each eagerly marked on our 1:25,000 maps (no chances taken!). Eventually we reached the fateful point to discover that the maps were correct—the guide superseded. The longer western route would, however, add a further 16 kilometres to the length of the path, but would avoid a long walk-off to accommodation on two successive days. Despite a brief panic when the way-marks petered out we found the new path quite pleasant and after an hour of meandering we emerged close to the village of Broc around lunch-time. However, a combination of Sunday and a bar as un-welcoming as any we had ever come across in France restricted lunch to purchased snacks at a bakery. From Broc the path headed steadily west then south-west through a maze of green lanes lined with hawthorn hedges. The plain we were crossing is apparently one of the last breeding sites for Corncrakes in France but being September we kept our ears open for the characteristic calls more in hope than anticipation. They are easier to hear at night during spring and despite our 13 kilometre crossing of their territory we heard none. As we approached the small market town of Noyant we were quite grateful for the shelter of several large oaks as a shower or two scuttled through in the stiff westerly breeze—Maine-et-Loire was proving just as inclement as Sarthe. The path emerged to the west of Noyant onto the broad and arrow-straight N766, leaving an 800 metre stroll into town. Noyant was locked into Sunday afternoon slumbers, every thing was locked tight including our hotel, the Hostellerie St Martin. A few minutes banging stirred the owner’s son and we were escorted to a room and handed the key to the rear entry. It transpired that the hotel was normally closed on Sunday, as with every other accommodation, and they had taken our booking to help us out. We were very grateful for their generosity even though dinner consisted of peanuts and beer at the only bar to open followed by an attack on our emergency rations which depleted our reserves while lightening the load. Envious glances at the hotel’s normal menu were scant compensation, but at least we had a warm and comfortable place to sleep. back to top Day Nineteen - Noyant to Continvoir. 27 kilometres. Thankfully, both the hotel and Noyant itself had returned to normal on Monday morning. The traditional French breakfast of croissants, bread, jam & coffee awaited us and the shops had re-opened allowing our depleted emergency rations to be re-stocked. After retracing our steps to the GR 36 we headed off once more towards the south-west. There had been yet more rain overnight and the green lanes, with tall undergrowth, were dank and wet. Wishing we had packed gaiters and not wishing to put on over-trousers we were soon wet from the knees down. The path kept to similar green lanes as the end of the previous day and was obviously freshly way-marked with the red & white blazes shining in the early sunlight. The weather was similar to Saturday, a clear blue sky, that shade of blue guaranteed to herald showers later, but a fresh westerly wind keeping temperatures low. Around mid morning the path performed another of its famous loops as we suddenly changed tack once more and started heading due east with a vengeance. A tall scarp slope lay to the south and after meandering by a small lake the path began a delightful steady climb through dark forests towards a small village, La Pellerine. We emerged from the wood and a sheep trod, across close-cropped grass, rose steadily up to the village. La Pellerine was built right on the break of slope and commanded a fine view across the plain back to Noyant and beyond. The village also boasted a small hotel and restaurant, given that it was now 11.45, we decided to take a long break and a welcome beer took us up to lunch-time opening. As usual there was a three course, no choice, menu of the day which, with a carafe of local vin de table, proved excellent value for 55 francs each. Most of the customers were local farmers and it was a real pleasure to be accepted with the traditional hand-shake greeting by each new entrant. Sunday’s starvation diet was forgotten as we waddled off along the top of the scarp towards a large state forest. We were back on sandy forest rides for the next 4 kilometres as we steadily headed eastwards to regain the original Topo-Guide route. It was a little bit of a relief to spot faded, old, way-marks coming in from the north, the junction is clearly marked from the south with an obvious cross indicating that the route we had followed was now the correct way. Having rejoined the original line of the GR 36 the path now returned to its south-south-west trend and plunged back into forest. The rides we were following, along the border between Maine-et-Loire and Indre-et-Loire, became wider then surfaced and eventually after another hour we emerged from the southern edge of the forest onto a broad agricultural plain. Our route took us across earth tracks out in the middle of the hedgeless fields and, with exquisite timing, the only shower of the day deluged us away from any shelter. As usual in these rural parts, finding accommodation on the path had proven difficult, this day was no exception with the only place to stay for kilometres being a chambre d’hôte 4 kilometres east of the path. Two weary and wet walkers staggered along the intervening lanes to La Butte de l’Épine at Continvoir to find a very refined country-lady and wisteria covered mansion, a charming spot to recover from a days tramping. back to top Day Twenty - Continvoir to Saumur. 43 kilometres. Some days are destined to be epic, this day was definitely one. Watching the evening weather forecast we received the worst possible bonus for our longest day, a full day’s heavy rain. Madame was extremely happy to have her guests up and away for an 8 o’clock breakfast and within half an hour we were packed and away. The day had started dry but very grey and overcast, we were hoping to make as much distance as possible before the rain. Our hopes were dashed as in sight of the path the first drizzle pattered against our faces. By the time we regained the path in the open fields, the rain had become steady and we were suited up for the day. To add insult to injury a minor route diversion and poor way-marking set us temporarily astray necessitating a brisk road walk of a kilometre to regain the path at the hamlet of Bignon le Vert. The path, now a clear broad track between head-high maize, plunged arrow-straight towards the south-west for almost 6 kilometres before at last we emerged to cross the D206. A brief zigzag and we started a steady climb up into yet another state forest. The topo-guide gave a warning, about the next 11 kilometre stretch of unbroken forest, reminding walkers to stock up with water against the heat. With steady, heavy rain and temperatures around 12º C that was not going to be a problem. The first stretch took us through a section of patchy birch scrub and mixed heather and gorse, on a better day a pleasant heath. The path then slunk into the bottom of a gentle valley and thick impenetrable pines closed out all distant views. A dark and dank hour passed trudging through the trees before we emerged at a small pond, where once more a further path diversion suddenly took us left, and then left again. We were once more onto a major diversion and given the projected distance one that might be very unwelcome if yet more kilometres were added to the day. On this occasion we elected to stay with the way-marks and after only a kilometre walking north-east, two right turns brought us back to the correct alignment only a short distance away from the original route. The revised route now took us through the village of La Breille les Pins, but sadly no bar or restaurant was open to give a break from the rain. Once again soggy emergency rations were consumed in a bus-shelter. The afternoon continued much as the morning, for the first hour still following the revised route before rejoining the original path a couple of kilometres before we finally emerged from the forest on the outskirts of Brain-sur-Allonnes. We had finally arrived in the Loire valley but romantic visions of meandering through sunny vineyards, plucking grapes as we passed, were sadly misplaced. The north side of the Loire valley is a warren of maize and sunflower fields. The maize was too tall for views and the sunflowers, blackened and drooping, were well past their best. It was here that we discovered the worst estimate of distance and time by the topo-guide. We were told indicated that we had 8 kilometres and two hours to go, so at 2.30 we were pleased, however, the book couldn’t have been more wrong. The alleged distance took us four hours of solid hard tramping—we finally estimated the distance to be 17 kilometres! After a brief sunny interval, along the forest edge, which lasted just long enough to take off hoods, the rain returned twice as heavy as before. It became a weary trudge ticking off junctions, turnings and map features each gradually reducing the distance left to cover. Eventually we crossed the main east-west road, the D10, and then the motorway loomed up, cars swirling clouds of spray as they headed along. Once over the motorway, the path became surfaced and then after crossing a minor tributary we entered the final approaches to Saumur, a dreary set of flat, maize-lined lanes. To add insult to injury, there was yet another diversion to the path and we temporarily lost the way-marks for a while only by navigating by reference to the railway line and compass bearings to the power stations. At 5.30 we finally emerged onto the main road on the banks of the Loire and collapsed into the first bar for a well-earned drink. However, a further 3 kilometres of main road followed as we slowly headed up to the bridges over the twin streams of the river and finally entered Saumur. Quite what the elegant receptionist of the chic Hotel Central must have thought of her two bedraggled and weary guests I have no idea but she didn’t bat an eyelid as she showed us to the room. It was also just as well she never saw the room after we quickly turned it into a Chinese laundry by spreading all our sopping possessions around the room to dry. The hot bath was the most sensual and welcome I have ever had. To cap the day, as we emerged to seek dinner, we paused on the banks of the Loire and just for a second as the sun set, it glinted strongly through a tiny gap between the clearing clouds and the horizon. With a combination of weather, distance and diversions this will be a day never to forget, we had, however, finally reached a major milestone for the walk—the Loire. We really began to feel now that we had entered the next stage of the walk, the Heart of France, and tomorrow we would see the back of the GR 36 with all of its delights and difficulties. We really felt we had achieved something major. back to top Day Twenty-one - Saumur to Montsoreau. 19 kilometres. The day dawned bright and sunny, the weather had changed for the better and with the end of the GR 36, we saw the end of the rain for this portion of the walk. We only had 2 kilometres until the junction of the GR 36 and the GR 3, both paths follow a common course through the back streets of Saumur to emerge high on the river cliff overlooking the magnificent chateau. A bright clear blue sky and temperatures at a pleasant 19 º C boded well for our “easy” day. Muscles were groaning a little after the exertions of the previous day but we soon arrived at the finger-posts marking the junction of the ways. We had walked for 524 kilometres along (including walks to accommodation) the GR 36 and it was not without some sadness that we marked its departure. The GR.36, however, was heading towards the centre of the Pyrennées rather than the Mediterranean, so we had a 3_ day diversion to the north-east along the GR 3 before we could pick up a path (GR 46) heading towards the Massif Central. The GR. 3 broadly follows the Loire valley with a few minor diversions to visit places of interest and scenic beauty. We were very much going to be in tourist France for the rest of this walk and there had been none of the accommodation problems found in the more rural parts of the GR 36. Just as we left the suburbs of Saumur, our fantasies became reality as we entered our very first vineyard of the walk under a cobalt sky, swallows were dancing in the air above; we had left the north behind. The southern edge of the Loire flood-plain is marked by a 30 – 50 metre cliff of tufa, embedded with wine-caves, the vineyards are planted on the top on a light gravelly soil. The GR 3 kept our muscles amused by initially finding an intricate web of little paths which clambered up, down and around the tufa cliff. Four times in the space of the hour we descended to the bustling highway at the base of the cliff only to climb determinedly back up to the vineyards. Finally, playing done, the GR 3 turned off to the south from Dompierre-sur-Loire in a wide loop through the vineyards of Souzay-Champigny. Despite being owners of a brand new copy of an English guide to the path, published in 1990, we were still afflicted by the practice of path diversion and re-routing. Our coffee stop at Parnay was bypassed and thoughts of a lazy amble soon passed as yet again we struggled with reconciling the waymarking with the book and the maps. The objective of the re-routing turned out to be a pleasant stretch of woodland reached by a determined climb to the skyline this in turn was followed by an intricate meander through vineyards back, after 6 kilometres, to the top of the tufa cliff high above Turquant. As we were only a handful of kilometres from Montsoreau we explored the village but failed to find any hint of refreshments. Once more snacks were targeted, it was, however, a much pleasanter prospect under a warm sun in the village park. With barely an hour to walk to Montsoreau, we had plenty of time to sit and take in the views of the Loire, the reward for yet another climb up to the top of the cliff. Gentle paths took us once more through vineyards before descending to the cross-roads of Montsoreau. With time to kill, the village bars provided ample refreshment before we wandered up to the Hotel le Bussy where we enjoyed the luxury of half an afternoon of leisure. Our room had shutters opening on to a fine view of Montsoreau’s chateau backed by the wide Loire, complete with egrets fishing in the shallows. An excellent dinner at the Restaurant Diane de Meridor overlooking the river rounded off a perfect recovery day. This was more like it! back to top Day Tenty-two - Montsoreau to Chinon. 24 kilometres. Another pleasant sunny day dawned, a delightful series of back streets and cobbled alleys led up through Montsoreau and its neighbouring twin village, Candes-St-Martin, to emerge on a grassy belvedere high above the confluence of the Loire and the Vienne. These two broad rivers were laid out below us with long views up each of two valleys disappearing into the haze. The Loire, heading north-eastwards, was marred by the visual scar of a nuclear power station, its attendant steam cloud billowing skywards, the Vienne, our companion for the day, headed more easterly towards Chinon. A misplaced marker caused confusion leaving the viewpoint, however, after a brief scout about without packs the path was relocated heading down a tarred lane between the vineyards. A small valley was crossed and then we entered a loop back to the west and south of Montsoreau. The path wound gently through vineyards and maize fields before entered a pleasant patch of deciduous woodland. A sunken path, between steep earth banks, descended from the hillside and we emerged into a valley where we picked up further lanes heading to the village of Fontevraud-l’Abbaye. This charming village is totally dominated by the imposing grey walls of its abbey. We, however, were more interested in its secular attractions and were soon stocked up with quiches, cakes and drinks for a picnic. A tedious road walk of 3 kilometres followed after leaving the village before, along the boundary of a military training area, a path bore left and once more climbed into the forest. The right side of the path was marked by all the usual paraphernalia of the military, warning notices, razor wire and such, but the walking was very pleasant. The path, mainly a track but with sections of narrower going, climbed steadily up to a ridge before emerging to a grand view. With woodland to the right and fields dropping to the valley of the Vienne to the left we found a perfect picnic site on an oak trunk. It was a great relief to finally have dry and warmth to sit and enjoy the day. A few more kilometres of field paths followed until we emerged once more on the top of a cliff overlooking a broad river, now the Vienne. A sneaky path zigzagged through bushes and rocks to descend to the valley and the busy main road. During this descent we came across a really rare sight as two fellow walkers, laden with packs, laboured upwards—the first fellow GR walkers we had seen since we left the Channel! Our reward for a morning’s effort was yet another roadside bar, where we passed a pleasant hour, cooling off over a Kronenbourg or two. The remainder of the day, a mere 10 kilometres, presented little difficulty other than crossing the busy road. Opposite the bar and down a short access road the GR quickly deteriorated to a beaten earth surface and joined the banks of the Vienne. This pleasant path, shaded by willows for most of the way, led steadily eastwards along the river. Glimpses through the willows of a shallow, wide and gravelly river bed were extremely pleasant. As we neared Chinon, the track became surfaced and the river bank dotted with afternoon fishermen. A tricky diversion avoided the worst of the road walking by sneaking into Chinon along a pasture-bordered lane, eventually emerging at the imposing bridge over the Vienne. Chinon stood opposite, its citadel standing on a high prow of limestone, the town clustered beneath. Our hotel, le Diderot, lay on the eastern side of the town-centre so we took the opportunity to stay with the GR 3 as it climbed through the old town to the ramparts. Gravelly paths led along the prow of land to the east, with fine views of the roofs of the town and the Vienne, before a sharp descent brought us to the doors of le Diderot. Another pleasant hotel welcomed us without hesitation and set us up for a relaxing exploration, followed by dinner, of the old town during the evening. back to top Day Twenty-three - Chinon to Azay-le-Rideau. 27 kilometres. The GR 3 had entered Chinon with a grand passage over the Vienne bridge and a climb to the citadel, it left, less pretentiously, by skulking through the rear of the town along the edge of the escarpment before exiting through the industrial estates. Prior to this less-than-salubrious exit we had fine views of the Vienne in its tree-lined valley with swallows swooping for insects above the fast-flowing waters. The rest of the day’s views were limited as we soon entered the vast Forêt Dominiale de Chinon. The forest was to host our passage for almost the whole day and given the rising heat we were grateful for its shelter from the sun. The Loire had turned and headed away towards the north-east; after crossing the Vienne we too were led north-eastwards by the GR as it turned and headed towards Tours. The first 6 kilometres, after clearing Chinon, were on broad forest rides through coniferous forest. Tall sentinels silently rose either side with a mixture of sandy earth tracks and partially metalled old logging roads. The going was easy, mostly flat but with occasional gentle climbs and descents. By late morning the temperature was around 25 º C and we were making frequent water stops. Eventually we temporarily broke free of the forest into a secluded clearing around the forestry village of Saint-Benoit-le-Forêt. Despite our fervent prayers the village had no shops or bars and we trooped off, this time heading north, back into the shade of the forest again. The GR now followed a complicated set of paths and rides trending north and then north-eastwards for 8 kilometres, crossing and re-crossing the Chinon to Tours railway line. The forest improved to become deciduous for a while and we sat under the shade of some elegant chestnuts for the lunch-time picnic. We were looking forward to some views from the northern edge of the forest, however, our relief at being free of trees was short-lived as once again there was yet another diversion to the path. The guidebook showed an intricate route tracing through vineyards and orchards to the Indre valley, the waymarking, however, turned us back into the forest heading south-eastwards. I had decided, in Chinon, that I was no longer going to be caught out by these diversions in future and had bought the I.G.N 1:25,000 maps of the areas through which we were to pass. The rest of the afternoon was taken up walking and trying to predict the likely path of the re-routing. Six kilometres before Azay-le-Rideau I was dismayed by yet another turning, this time we were turned onto a southerly heading, directly away from our accommodation. A short council of war was held, poring over the maps, and a number of contingency plans were considered, should this became another Le Mans-style major diversion. Our worries, however, came to naught as in less than 400 metres we were turned back north-easterly and then to the north to reach the edge of the forest exactly where I had hoped. Given the length of the day and the heat we took a long rest on the edge of the forest before we tackled the exposed traverse through the vineyards. By stopping and sitting awhile, we soon became aware that the woodland was in fact quite well used and in the space of 15 minutes 2 dog-walkers and a couple of old gentlemen searching for mushrooms had passed and greeted us. The GR picked up some lanes which skirted a small vineyard before heading downhill towards the busy D17. Ranks of “Golden Delicious” filled orchards, with harvest in full swing, were serried along the lane. It was fascinating to watch the mechanisation which took the fruit from tree to lorry. Fruit on these trees would be in the markets of Paris that night. A final weary bash along the D17 took us to Azay-le-Rideau’s twin village of La Chapelle-St-Blaize where a welcome beer refuelled us for the remaining 800 metres across the Indre to our overnight at the Hotel de Biencourt. This charming hotel was fronted by a great iron-studded doorway which led to an imposing stone building, our room, very pleasant and airy, sat across a tranquil courtyard. The hotel was full, with outdoor action-types, as our stay coincided with an Explore Worldwide cycle group, there was much lycra and many sunburnt legs in evidence. Azay-le-Rideau is a charming little market town dominated by its water-side chateau, set in tinkling water-gardens created by diverting channels from the Indre, the Indre itself was still fairly broad, a delightful willow-shaded river. We were very pleased to meet the Indre as it would hopefully provide companionship for much of the next year’s section of the walk. We spent a happy hour exploring the old town streets and checking out restaurant menus before settling on a little bistro on the main road. We clearly had chosen well as this was the only place doing good business—we were certainly satisfied with our dinner, especially when our chosen wine proved to be from the vineyard at the edge of the forest where we had emerged that afternoon. A satisfying end to the day. back to top Day Twenty-four - Azay-le-Rideau to Montbazon. 30 kilometres. Our final day began with further anxiety about the route. The 1:100,000 IGN map showed two branches for the GR 46, one starting from the centre of Tours, the other branching off the GR 3 just before Artannes-sur-Indre and passing south of Tours, along the valley of the Indre, to meet the other branch. This latter route was our preferred option cutting, as it did, some 30 - 40 kilometres off the overall route to the Med. However, the national map showing the GR network omitted this second branch. Purchasing the detailed 1:25,000 maps had been necessary to determine that the line may well exist, it was clearly marked in red, so we had taken a chance and booked our final day to follow this route. It was, therefore, with a degree of trepidation that we headed back across the flood-plain of the Indre to rejoin the path in La-Chapelle-St-Blaise. A brief road walk along the D17 to the east was soon covered and a pleasant grassy track climbed gently up to the right. A party of 5 joggers passed us and thundered into the distance. The countryside had changed once more and we emerged onto a broad agricultural plain, a mosaic of arable and pastured fields. The path, however, kept to fenced grassy tracks, used for moving animals between pasture and barn, before following the outside-edge of a small copse. The first half of the morning was supposed to be a short loop to the south, before regaining the D17, a road walk and then a stroll to lunch. Our plans, once more, were shattered as yet another major diversion added several kilometres to the day. Instead of turning back north after 6 kilometres; the path suddenly dodged south and then south-east. As we had the 1:25,000 sheets we were well aware of our position relative to the guidebook route but this diversion was too new to be recorded even on these new edition maps. After a few kilometres the revised route turned east to parallel the road walk. A brief descent and re-ascent took us across an intervening valley and through the village of Villaines-sur-Rochers, a pleasant spot which provided a welcome interlude from the interminable fences and pastures. Eventually the path headed east and then north along a series of minor roads to rejoin the original route at the D17 in the village of Saché. An interesting auberge took our eye but a glance at the menu prices soon had us heading to the village bar for more appropriate walking fare. We were almost an hour behind our predicted arrival time in Saché, thanks to the extended route, so lunch was cut short. We headed back out onto the flood plain of the Indre. The next 3 kilometres were flat and straight following an old drove path headed eastwards, parallel with the D17, through cow-filled pasture-land. Age-old willows, bent and gnarled, provided us with some shade as we plodded along through the heat of the day. Pont-de-Ruan, the next village, was shuttered and deserted as its inhabitants took a Saturday afternoon siesta. Our final steps along the GR 3 took us through the woodland on the edge of a large estate before returning to the banks of the Indre. The pleasant shade and tranquil burbling of the river made a pleasant end to this stretch of our route. The path emerged at a bridge, crossing the Indre, and there, in front of us, was the fingerboard indicating the start of the GR 46. The GR 3 heads across the Indre and northwards towards Tours to rejoin the Loire, we, and the GR 46 headed off south-easterly up a steeply climbing road—our third GR of the Coast to Côte. Once we reached the plateau the path continued in much the same vein as the GR 3 crossing broad open fields on grassy fenced tracks. It also showed some of the normal tendencies, as within a kilometre or two we had been re-routed to the south of the mapped route. This re-routing, however, was short-lived and designed to reduce the amount of road walking, a blessed relief sadly not to be followed later during the afternoon. The valley of the Indre hosts a series of dormitory villages supporting Tours and our path, regrettably headed north-east to reach their outskirts. Whilst there is a certain fascination with walking through suburbia, observing Saturday afternoon life the French way, by mid-afternoon our feet were starting to feel the relentless combined pressure from the imminent end of the walk and a long and very hot tarmac stretch. We took advantage of every bench and shaded grassy area whilst we consumed can after can of soft drinks to combat the heat. Finally we crossed the T.G.V line and Autoroute and after passing the cloistered peace of an old monastery, a final path headed along a wood-edge before turning across the fields to descend into the housing estates of Montbazon. Our hotel was north of the town along the N10, so we had to pass right through the town, across the Indre, and feebly plod alongside the busy traffic for a couple of kilometres, a most unpleasant end to the walk. Our hotel, however, the Relais de Touraine, was pleasant and tranquil despite its proximity to the main road. Most of its trade came from passing motorists and guests on foot were clearly a rarity. The bath and beds came in welcome as we eased the sore feet before an excellent Touraine-style meal rounded off our trip. A civilised end to a walk of contrasts and achievements. We had finally completed the stretch along the GR 36, with all its attendant accommodation & weather problems, and in doing so had reached a major landmark; the Loire. The second half of this stretch was a classic view of tourist France as we ambled alongside the river valleys of the Loire, Vienne and Indre past elegant chateaux and vineyards. Finally we had reached our third path the GR 46 which would take us in future years south-east, along the Indre, towards the challenge of the mountains of the Massif Central. With a further 223 kilometres behind us adding to the 399 already completed, we had also covered one-third of the total route to the Mediterranean and had reached the heart of France. Days One to Eight - Caen to Saint-Denis sur Sarthon on the GR 36, 205 kilometers or 127 miles Days Eight to Sixteen - Saint-Denis sur Sarthon to Mayet on the GR 36, 194 kilometers or 121 miles Days Twenty-five to Thirty-one - Montbazon to la Châtre, on the GR 46, 167 kilometers or 105 miles e-mail your questions and comments to walk@franceonfoot.com back to top SITE CONTENTS * LINKS * ARCHIVE * UPDATES MAIN PAGE * HOME |
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The best, the most exquisite automobile is the walking stick; and one of the finest things in life is going a journey with it.
 – Robert Cortes Holiday, The Walking Stick Papers |