4th Installment
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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 4th INSTALLMENT, DAYS TWENTY-FIVE TO THIRTY-ONE: Montbazon to la Châtre, 105 miles on the GR 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 Seventeen to twenty-four - Mayet to Montbazon on the GRs 36, 3 and 46, 216 kilometers or 140 miles Day Twenty-five – Montbazon to Reignac-sur-Indre. 18 kilometres. The sun was splitting the flags as we descended from the taxi which had brought us the few kilometres from the TGV station at Tours. We were back on the trail under a June sun. After a few minutes searching out the way-marks we were away up a discrete alleyway rising from the back of the small market-place. The path quickly left the village behind gently climbing to a wooded knoll where we took advantage of some cover to change into shorts. As we packed away our long trousers we didn’t realise they would stay for the whole of this leg at the bottom of the pack. We were armed, in the absence of a Topo-Guide, with a complete set of 1:25,000 IGN maps marking our route – the GR46 - south-eastwards. An overnight in Paris had enabled a visit to the excellent IGN shop just off the Champs Elysées where we had stocked up. The knoll just south of Montbazon gave broad but unspectacular views north towards Tours but the small height was quickly lost as we descended back to the banks of the Indre, diverted north by a side valley. Once across a small stream full of water-cress beds we regained the few metres as we headed over a second knoll to the sister village of Veigné. A small bar hosted a pression toast to the next leg of our journey before we headed away into the late-morning heat. From Veigné a dull stretch of tarmac heads eastwards before refreshing shade in a small valley led to a meandering path which climbed deviously up to a farm. From here the path strikes boldly south and then east down lanes deeply rutted by farm traffic. The scenery is unspectacular, arable fields of corn, but with a clear blue sky we weren’t complaining. The bold open striding lanes were briefly interrupted by the incised valley of the river Echandon where the GR46 is diverted further south before finding a bridge across. Here there were pastures with somnolent cattle seeking shade under the path-side alders. Once across the Echandon we were scheduled to meet up with “other” branch of the GR46 which is mapped as starting in Tours and following a more easterly route. To our surprise this branch was not way-marked and appeared not to exist. For walkers headed in the other direction it was clearly marked with the cross of an invalid route. Having crossed the Echandon the GR46 heads determinedly back to the Indre valley which it rejoins at Cormery. We were fortunate, despite the late hour, to find a restaurant, delightfully situated by the bridge across the river, still willing to serve us lunch. Replete, we wandered along, now on the north-bank of the Indre, through Cormery’s sister village of Truyes to a broad and delightful fisherman’s path which heads parallel to the Indre on the edge of the water-meadows for some 4 kilometres until the GR46 re-crosses to the south bank at Courçay. Beyond Courçay, the path climbs up a 30 metre river-cliff before once more reaching the plateau. Our last couple of kilometres were a delightfully sunny and soft path which heads through a butterfly-filled dell to the majestic farmhouse of Chemallé. The family have converted the stables to a sumptuous gîte d’étape and also host B & B in the main farm. A small “Cycling for Softies” group were sharing the farm and a most enjoyable evening was spent lounging in the pleasant gardens over a bottle-or-two of wine sold by the owners. A very pleasant end to our first day. back to top Day Twenty-six Reignac-sur-Indre to Loches. 29 kilometres. A characteristic of the walking along the Indre is that the towns with accommodation are all a little more than ideal for daily back-packing distance. Thankfully the terrain is undemanding so you can make good distance each day – the side-effect is that the feet suffer. Loches looks to be fairly close but as usual the GR path takes a devious route. Anxious to get away and get some distance done in the early morning cool we headed off early, descending back to the meadows alongside the Indre and rolling in to Reignac-sur-Indre, itself, past the bustle and clatter of the creamery. From the bridge re-crossing to the north bank of the Indre the path now heads off northwards to describe a circuit of the Bois de Reignac. Pleasant shade from a deciduous forest and soft paths under-foot led pleasantly around a 4 kilometres loop before we emerged again back by the Indre. The path then takes a quiet back lane south-eastwards – quiet, that is until jingling bells signalled our friends from the cycling party who bustled past with bar-bags stuffed with loaves and bottles. Our path soon turned off onto track and we were once again following a path which kept to the edge of the flood-plain bordering pastures to our right and arable to the left. This pleasant reverie is broken by the D10 taking fast traffic west across the Indre, we battled for 10 minutes uphill on the shoulder of this road before sighing with relief as we regained our familiar path. A brief dalliance with some riding stables soon led to a long shady path which quickly eat the kilometres till we emerged tight by the Indre bridge at L’Ile Thimé. This hamlet had nothing to sustain us for lunch but a short kilometre across the Indre by a plane-tree lined lane the flesh-pots of Chambourg-sur-Indre provided admirably. Sadly the majority of the afternoon stint was tarmac, doubly painful as the temperatures were pushing 30 centigrade and shade was lacking. From L’Ile Thimé a short 30 metre climb on path brings you out onto a narrow lane which is followed for several kilometres before the welcome relief of the Fôret Dominiale de Loches is reached. For a couple of kilometres we were in shade – blessed relief. All too soon the path turns back toward the Indre on lanes emerging back on the river-bank. Signs showing only a short distance by road to Loches are misleading as the path now takes two further long diversions eastwards, whilst not too demanding they do seem to be rather pointless, especially given their high tarmac content, coming as they did at the end of a long day. It was late afternoon when we emerged at Beaulieu-les-Loches and trudged wearily along the road linking it to Loches where our accommodation waited. Fortunately the Hotel George Sand was easy to find and provided extremely comfortable and intriguing rooms. Full of ancient stone spiral staircases it was a delightful warren – the restaurant over-looking the fish ponds and weirs of the Indre was a perfect spot to relax at the end of a foot-weary day. back to top Day Twenty-seven Loches to Châtillon-sur-Indre. 30 kilometres. The GR46 offers an alternative choice of route on leaving Loches, it would be nice to suggest we chose the eastern route for aesthetic reason but, with another hot day forecast, the pragmatic reason was that it was a couple of kilometres shorter. To escape the worst of the heat we started early, Loches was slumbering on a still Sunday morning as we left and meandered back across the flood plain to Beaulieu-les-Loches to regain the path. A pleasant lane through the suburbs gave pleasant views back across cow-filled water-meadows to Loches, dominated by its impressive castle. To add to the moment the bells of churches calling the morning mass gave a pleasant send-off. The first 4 kilometres south to Perrusson were unfortunately solidly tarmac-ed but they were peaceful enough, once more hugging the edge of the flood-plain. Once across the D592 the path swings determinedly east away from the Indre, climbing a broad chalky down to a height of 132 metres. The path follows the crest of a shallow ridge with fine views back to the Indre valley. On reaching the ridge the GR switches once more to the south-easterly track and follows broad grassy paths between flower-rich pastures. The gaps in the sward revealed increasingly white soil, indicating we had crossed into chalk country. Not the dramatic chalk downlands of southern England but more the gently undulating country of Southern Cambridgeshire and Northern Essex. Crossing a couple of small dry valleys we headed steadily south-east back towards the Indre which was reached at St Germain, just in time for a mid-morning coffee break. The Indre, here a narrowing meandering stream shaded by willows, is crossed on the D89 but this was soon forsaken for a hedged path across the meadows in a dog-leg to the busy N143. We scurried across and into a small patch of conifer forestry and welcome shade, the down-side was a stiff pull up through the pines, only 50 metres of climbing but a bit of a surprise. Once we emerged from the plantation the path levelled out again and a pleasant amble southwards was marred only by the ruts created by farm traffic which had baked to concrete. At a junction of tracks the GR46 does one of those seemingly illogical loops, in this case a 2 kilometre diversion back westwards, only to rejoin the same track barely a kilometre further south. In this case the centre of the loop held interest for Verneil-sur-Indre looked an ideal spot for lunch. Hosting the “Centre Horticole Ste Jeanne D’Arc” Verneil-sur-Indre is a pleasant little village, clearly much dominated by its manor. The main street is a broad boulevard bounded by wide grassy strips much frequented by the horse-riding set. I had developed a theory, based upon the population sizes shown on the IGN maps, namely that every village with a population above 0.5 (500 folk) would still retain its village bar. Thankfully with 0.6 Verneil-sur-Indre confirmed my hunch and a pleasant 45 minutes was spent away from the sun. Our pleasant break was soon over and in the baking heat we headed into a 5 kilometre tarmac stretch back to the ridge and then over eastwards heading for Châtillon and the Indre once more. Thankful for the return to grassy path we descended into a small valley and rounding the corner were somewhat taken aback to find the village of Bridoré in mid-fête. A large marquee by a lake was dispensing beer and burgers to a large set of tables bustling with the village folk. The village itself was still and quiet but a pleasant shady path led eastwards to Fléré-la-Rivière which was to prove a welcome afternoon break. Around four o’clock we set out on a long and lonely 10 kilometres through a series of village-avoiding paths. Fortunately the heat of the day had mitigated a little as a veil of thin cloud had covered the sun. We made slow but steady progress initially westwards along the valley of the St Flovier river before turning for the last time eastwards. A steady climb and descent brought us to the tiny hamlet of La Reuille – all wooden beamed houses and tumbling limestone barns. A second broad ridge behind us we reached the Ruisseau de la Parette – another pleasant willow-shaded stream and the final obstacle before Châtillon-sur-Indre. Like Loches, Châtillon is dominated by its citadel which we could see for most of the last 3 kilometres as we headed into town along the D13b. Tired and weary we arrived in Châtillon at a busy roundabout with the N143. As we were booked into the Hotel de la Tour I took this to be close to the citadel and we hiked up the narrow streets to the main square. After scouting around and finally having to ask we were somewhat annoyed to find it by the roundabout. If we’d only looked back it would have been obvious. It was only later, over an after-dinner beer, that we realised that on the hot path between Bridoré and Fléré-la-Rivière we had crossed into a new department. We were now in Indre having spent virtually all our time since just east of Saumur within Indre-et-Loire. Despite being tired after a long hot day it was worthy of a toast. back to top Day Twenty-eight Châtillon-sur-Indre to Buzançais. 29 kilometres. From the citadel in the centre of Châtillon-sur-Indre the GR wends it’s way down a series of steep steps cutting between the lanes and streets encircling the high ground on which the town is built. The path emerges at a roundabout and heads off across the flood-pain of the Indre following the D675. We paused at the bridge over the Indre and took in the view back to Châtillon perched on its knoll, the sky was pearl white but the day was already sultry and foreboding. Once across the Indre the GR seeks the first lane it can heading south-east and soon we were meandering along a sandy track lined with pollarded poplars, bent and gnarled from repeated trimming. The track soon left the edge of the flood plain, climbing steadily up to a low ridge where the trees fell away to give wide views across a pastoral plateau. Unlike most British pastures the fields were awash with spring flowers, the scent of lemon balm wafted up from our feet and buttercups, cornflowers and poppies made for an attractive scene. To add interest the repeated “Whet my lips” of a concealed Quail kept us on our toes but the secretive bird stayed in deep cover amongst the tall grasses. After flirting with the hamlet of Le Tranger the path climbed once more to plateau level in a steady 70 metre climb through fields dotted with Charolais cattle, the colour of milky tea. The next 6 kilometres up to lunch we followed an excellent broad track along the ridge with pleasant views to the Bois de Paray to the north. We had a double-prospect for lunch, the twin villages Palluau-sur-Indre and St Genou sit on opposite sides of the Indre a mere three kilometres apart. Palluau-sur-Indre was hidden from view as we approached, masked by a wooded knoll bordered by the large stone wall of a chateau. The path wends its way around the western boundary before arriving at the top of the village, a broad vista of the Indre below. A large village bar met our needs for refreshment, another dominated by English tourists – eagerly reciting snippets from the yesterday’s newly arrived Sunday papers. After a leisurely break we headed out from the village back across to the southern bank of the Indre once again. From here things started to go wrong once more, the anticipated and mapped path turning left towards St Genou was marked with the red & white cross, the GR continued up the busy D63a for a further kilometre before taking the next track, which turned diagonally back towards the first. Unfortunately this track had been selected for a large Gypsy traveller camp. We put our best friendly faces and nods on as we slunk through the caravans past dishevelled children and discarded rubbish. Suddenly a sharp pain in my calf caused me to yelp as I swung round to fend off a sneaky Jack Russell which had sunk its teeth into me. With blood welling from my calf we swept on pursued by stone-throwing children for the next kilometre before we turned gratefully back to the original path where they withdrew. We hurried on to St Genou where I cleaned my wound in the toilets of the bar. Janice was very worried about the risk of rabies and was all for calling off the remainder of the walk to seek reassurance. I, however, once my shaky nerves had settled was happy to continue to Buzançais and promised to report any strange symptoms as soon as I felt them. From St Genou, the GR heads determinedly south, away from the Indre for six kilometres before making a dramatic right-angle from where a further six kilometres heads due east to Buzançais. Once the initial road stretch was over the path lead through pleasant, undemanding grassy lanes until we reached the busy N143 once again. Safely across another straight road stretch led through a marshy heathland before we once more found sanctuary on paths. The damp and springy turf was pleasant to walk on and with the cloud clearing to reveal a watery sun we were grateful for the added shade of trees. The path turns abruptly east almost at the edge of the Brenne, a large area of mixed lakes and woodland, and we had a pleasant amble by the Etang de la Vienne under spreading chestnut trees before the path became gravel then tarmac and emerged at a large country-park car-park. By now it was mid-afternoon and many strollers and joggers were using the park, a wonderful facility for the citizens of Buzançais. By now the path was determinedly heading east toward Buzançais and we looking forward to the chance to rest and also to properly dress my weeping calf. Unfortunately, once more, the path had a last minute deviation from the indicated route and, rather than heading eastwards to the hamlet of Les Hervaux as shown, we were directed south-eastwards towards the D926. At the D926 we were further directed straight-on rather than turning towards Buzançais. As we were tired and our accommodation was secured in Buzançais we had a hasty conference at which point we took the decision that if directed straight-on at the next road, the D11, the path was clearly being diverted to avoid Buzançais and we would take that road into town and return in the morning. So it came to pass and wearily we stepped off the path and headed up the busy road towards the town two kilometres away. Dodging the heavy lorries and cursing all path diverters we were somewhat surprised a third of the way to town to find the red & white indicators rejoining us from the right at the point a pavement started. The path clearly only had gone a short way further east before heading back towards Buzançais. Later after an excellent meal and in our comfortable room at the Hotel Croissant, we reviewed the situation and elected to continue, my wound had sealed and I was not feeling odd or peculiar so clearly heading on to Châteauroux was the best plan. back to top Day Twenty-nine. Buzançais to Châteauroux. 26 kilometres. By the next morning my leg was fine and just a little stiff. We set off after a typical French breakfast and headed once more off onto the GR. After entering Buzançais over the bridge across the Indre the path ascends the High Street and leaves to the north-east. Within a few hundred metres we were met with further diversions and we had to search around for a few minutes in some intricate allotments before the path could be found, wending its way alongside Buzançais’ new eastern bypass. Once across the new dual-carriageway the path soon found its way to the old route and equanimity was restored. Thereafter all need to navigate was forgotten as the path joins a broad grassy track, initially north of the tiny freight railway track, a brief diversion across and through some woodland then it re-crossed the line and ran alongside it for almost 7 kilometres to Chambon. This long and peaceful stretch is pleasant flat walking, blessedly traffic free and an excellent path, springy turf under foot made for easy going. Across the single track lay the Indre, slow and peaceful in its progress, the bank marked by sporadic pollarded willows. Occasionally a heron would rise, startled from its fishing, but the predominant sound was the skylark song from the gently swelling slopes to the north. A most pleasant morning. Just after reaching the sleepy hamlet of Chambon, the path takes one of its regular loops away from the Indre, clinging up to the N143 on a lane, then seeking a sunken path across the slope of a tributary valley, initially along the edge of a wood, then through it on a narrow path bordered by ancient chestnuts. After crossing the D76 and headed north-east a further half kilometre the path doubles back to climb to the local summit of Le Guignier Nord at 152 metres. From this gentle height a pleasant field path descends to emerge by the Primary School on the D27, lunch was beckoning and with the N143 junction less than a kilometre away we headed off path for a break. Close to the busy junction in Villedieu-sur-Indre we were rewarded by another simple snack of beer and sandwiches, mighty slices of cheese and ham between crusty French stick. Excellent fare for a pleasant morning done. After a short break we resumed our path, dubious about the route; on our 1:25,000 IGN map it was marked as “projected”. Returning to the reassuring way-marks we set off on a winding route in and out of the border of a large golf & country club, a route which, as usual, took twice the distance than that covered in a straight line. Beyond Villedieu-sur-Indre the path heads east in a determined manner, initially through fields on a raised track, then becoming hedged and intimate. When the path reaches the D80, however, you are greeted by a bare expanse of open prairie-like cropland, very familiar territory to East Anglians, largely consisting of bright yellow oil-seed rape. Remarkably the route of the GR46 is preserved by a series of narrow uncultivated strips and the route, marked by small wooden stakes topped with red & white largely keeps to the line marked on the map. The path rejoins normal paths alongside the Bois Baril, an isolated remnant, before climbing a pleasant path to the ancient fortified manor house of La Galéteries, now a Buddhist meditation centre. The GR wanders almost through the grounds before heading for a clear-cut track cutting boldly west-east across the landscape. This track, an old Roman road, heads in an unerring line towards the distant town of Châteauroux. The path is clear and firm, beaten earth between low hedges, and we quickly ticked off the kilometres until the spires of Châteauroux’s churches were in view. Here our pleasant amble became disrupted as the way-marks suddenly indicated the path ahead as closed, diverting us left onto suburban roads. The route has been significantly impacted by the building of the new autoroute to the west of Châteauroux and sadly once we had crossed this busy road, the way-marks petered out altogether. A tramp along the road brought us to the busy D956 where we were forced to endure the continuous heavy traffic into town. Relieved to reach the former sister village of St Christophe we took to the back streets and, after crossing an ancient pack-horse bridge over the Indre we wound our way through the busy back-streets to Châteauroux, packed with early evening shoppers, to our hotel, the Voltaire. We had chosen this simple but comfortable establishment because of its situation close to the rail and bus station. After tidying up and refreshing we emerged to explore the town, particularly to establish the details of our transport back from the end of the walk, Châteauroux proved to be very much a workaday sort of place. There are pleasant nooks and crannies but it is far from a tourist trap, sufficient to our simple needs at the end of another day done. back to top Day Thirty. Châteauroux to Tranzault. 22 Kilometres Our route to leave Châteauroux proved to be quite an eye-opening experience and an introduction to a side of France seldom seen by the average tourist. Our 1:25,000 map showed the red line of the GR46 re-commencing in the suburb of Les Chevaliers in the south-eastern quarter of the conurbation. En route we passed through the largely immigrant quarter of Cité St Jean – a bleak poor estate of public owned flats and tower blocks. We attracted quite a few open stares as we passed Muslim women, leading their children to school, in head-scarves and black full-length gowns. The majority of the population seemed to be of North or West African origins. On the edge of town we re-found the way-marks and dodged the busy ring-road through an underpass to reach open country. We strolled through the leafy suburb of Brauderie before heading up a cul-de-sac of modern housing to find a cart-track heading off south-eastwards. It was a relief to be clear of the city after so many kilometres of pavement and on an already hot day we set off determinedly. The countryside was pleasant but unspectacular, a broad plateau at around 160 metres above sea-level. The tracks, mostly beaten earth farm access, wound through broad arable fields with wide views and few hedges. Ahead, filling the southern horizon, was the vast Forêt Dominiale de Châteauroux, a working forest of pine and spruce. We stepped gratefully into its shade and for a couple of kilometres cut due east to its eastern edge. After so many long days we were grateful for a gentler end to our walk and took full advantage of the piles of stacked logs to take a welcome break, shaded from the heat of the sun. The GR, however, takes a brief respite in the forest before emerging to the east, back in the flood plain of the Indre. Here we found a splendid broad grassy track arrow-straight between the disused railway and the river. Part of an ancient Roman route this track soon clocked up distance and before we knew it we had reached the D14 a kilometre and a half south-west of Ardentes. Tongues dragging we took full advantage of the road to head towards the market-town for a break and were delightfully rewarded, in the twin village of St Martin, by an excellent village bar. Thirsts quenched we regained the path and after a further three kilometres reached a bend. The track merges with the D19, which takes the Roman route, the path takes a more pleasant route out onto the flood-plain in a narrow hedged track between pastures. With bees buzzing and butterflies in abundance we found an ideal picnic spot on a bend in the path, a fallen oak trunk to sit and contemplate the ever-narrowing Indre below us. The track emerges at the imposing grounds of the Château de Bonnet, a magnificent house surrounded by wooded parkland. A very pleasant stretch of unbroken path of some 12 kilometres from the Forêt Dominiale de Châteauroux, for me one of the highlights of the GR46. Unfortunately, from here the GR takes one of those irritating three-sides-of-a-square diversions back north, whilst I’m sure this represents the best route it is dispiriting to start heading back the way you’ve come – but that’s the way of the GR paths. The object of the exercise was to gain access to a major north-south track heading through another stretch of forest. Unlike the earlier stretch this was more natural with a broad stony track through largely beech and oak forest. To add visual interest the route passes close by four small lakes dotted with quarrelsome coot. Irritation cooled by the pleasant route we emerged from the southern end of the forest to a marked change in landscape. I’m convinced that within this forest you pass some major geological boundary. To its north and for hundreds of kilometres, almost back to the Sarthe far behind us, the landscape is characterised by large almost hedge-less arable countryside. A landscape dominated by skyscapes, skylarks and broad views. To the south you emerge into a very different landscape, intimate tall-hedged irregularly shaped pastures, a countryside of sunken lanes etched, over the centuries, into the folds of the land where buzzard patrol the skies and cows placidly graze the succulent grass. The path also reaches a significant landmark – regaining the 200 metres contour for the first time in a long long way. By now we were quickly approaching our destination, despite it being only mid-afternoon, so a slower pace, very welcome in the heat, took us up to the hamlet of Tézé on its low hill. The hamlet was totally deserted and not a bark greeted us either, from here a narrow lane wound its way south-westwards and re-crossed the D19 before we entered the larger village of Lys St Georges. Here we faced the ultimate disappointment as a rustic and picturesque village bar proved to be closed for the day. We pressed on and, after a sharp descent on the D69, joined the final path of the day. This was a delightful hedged lane, meandering along the base of a slope alongside a babbling brook. The final climb, back uphill to Tranzault, was a trial but we were rewarded with an excellent Chambre D’Hôte “Coutin” - well used to walkers and their needs and wishes. The village bar also did a welcome spread to round off an excellent and varied day. back to top Day Thirty-one. Tranzault to La Châtre. 13 kilometres. Our final day was a short wind-down, necessitated by the complete lack of public transport for many kilometres beyond La Châtre. A lazy late rise followed by a super breakfast made for a late start but with such a short day it mattered little. We were soon headed off southwards again, the path once more following sunken lanes deeply sunk into the field system. Beyond the D19 we reached a broader track, marred by farm vehicle ruts, but following its own determined course diagonally across the patchwork of fields. The day was again hot & sunny and we were starting to wind down with few kilometres to go so frequent stops and bird-watching breaks meant we took our time. After a three kilometres stretch the path emerges on a narrow country-lane and heads across a small valley towards Sarzay, dominating the valley on a small knoll. After crossing the Vauvre the path takes a delightful sneaking back route around the backs of houses and climbs a narrow cobbled alley to reach Sarzay’s main square. As we had started late, mid-morning coffee break had arrived and Sarzay was well timed, the village bar supplying perfect cold drinks and a pleasant view of the white-washed church and the square. Unfortunately the next stretch was once more tarmac, a progression first north-east then southwards to a fork in the path. From here there are two alternative routes for the GR46 marked on the map, whether the route avoiding La Châtre exists we cannot say as it was not obviously marked at the start, the route to La Châtre most definitely is way-marked. Back on field paths, we climbed steadily up to a ridge and then turned to follow it south-eastwards to reach the highest point of the whole section of the walk – a mighty 246 spot height! The path meanders through a pair of small hamlets, both asleep in the morning sunshine, before finding a broad grassy track which turned determinedly towards La Châtre. It was downhill all the way and we marched contentedly towards the spire of La Châtre’s dominating church to arrive just in time for a late lunch snack and a welcome beer to toast the end of the walk. The main square, a broad cobbled expanse, dotted with tables from the numerous cafes proved a perfect spot to relax at the end of another stretch of the walk. After a very comfortable night at the Hotel Notre Dame and an excellent Béarnaise dinner at one of the numerous little restaurants, we utilised the transport information gleaned in Châteauroux to take the excellent bus service back there. From here frequent trains head to Paris and we settled back to enjoy our trip home. Reflecting on the section of walk completed we had found it pleasant if unspectacular with a marked improvement beyond Châteauroux. From here the countryside began to gain texture before it was easy flat walking ideally suited for covering distance but with little to stimulate the memories. We had covered 167 kilometres to add to the 620 previously covered. This was our shortest stretch of the walk, a departure caused by the nature of the countryside beyond La Châtre. As far as research could be determined, going beyond La Châtre meant going a distance in order to secure transport. Ahead of us was a landscape rising inexorably towards the Massif Central. The next leg would take us to the end of our involvement with the GR46 and we would join the GR4, which would take us through the mountains, across the Rhone and over Mont Ventoux. We were approaching the crux of the walk. 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 Seventeen to Twenty-four - Mayet to Montbazon on the GRs 36, 3 and 46, 216 kilometers or 140 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 |