Agay (Provence-Alpes-Cote d’Azur), France May 2025 (Tour 11)

Outside the holiday season Agay is a quiet little village and coastal resort next to Saint Raphael in the Var Department of the Cote d’Azur. More precisely, it is located in Agay Bay, between Cap Dramont to the west and the Pointe de la Baumette lighthouse to the east. The village is in a quite exceptional setting, sitting as it does in a roadstead (i.e a bay which is wider and deeper than it’s opening to the sea) and is completely backed by the red rock mountains of the Esterel Massif. Little wonder it has been described as a ‘Jewel of the Cote d’Azur’.

The resort was recommended as a pleasant place to visit and I decided to walk there. It’s a 3 mile walk from Esterel Camping but it’s an easy 3 miles along a cycle path which follows first the Avenue des Golfs and then the Avenue du Gratadis and leads directly to the beach front.

Once there, I walked the length and breadth of the village and; I can tell you Agay is not the most exciting of places. It’s more a place to relax although it does have a tidy little marina and three fine sandy beaches and can offer much in the way of water sports. The marina is at the western end of the village at the mouth of the Agay River. Alongside it is the tiny Maobi Beach, most if not all of which seems to belong to the hotel of the same name. To the east of Maobi Beach is the village’s principal beach, the Plage d’Agay, which is backed by a string of small shops, bars and restaurants. Finally, at the very eastern end of Agay is my favourite beach, the small but beautiful Plage de la Baumette. I started my visit by walking the length of the three beaches until I reached the lighthouse (now privately owned, I think) at Pointe de la Baumette and then returned to take a cold beer at one of the bars behind the Plage d’Agay. It was in the bar that I started reading up on the village and learned, amongst other things, that the famous French author Guy de Maupassant was one of numerous authors who regularly visited Agay.

I did stumble across one interesting feature during my walk along the beaches. In a small recreation park behind the campsite which separates the Plage d’Agay from the Plage de la Baumette is a small war memorial. It serves to honour a U.S bomber crew whose Liberator was shot down by German Flak and crashed into the bay while on a mission in 1944. Four of the crew parachuted to safety (and captivity) but the remaining six men were killed. The wreckage of the bomber lay undiscovered in Agay Bay at a depth of just 42 metres until 1984. Finding that memorial made for a very sobering moment; this beautiful, tranquil little bay is the last place that you would think could be touched by war or… so I thought. While reading up on Agay over the aforesaid beer, I also discovered that much of the village was destroyed during WWII both by the occupying German troops and by allied bombing in preparation for the invasion of Provence. Indeed, there used to be a medieval castle in the village which was totally obliterated.

obiter dicta: The memorial incorrectly identifies the Liberator heavy bomber as ‘Ophelia Bumps’ when in fact the plane was named ‘Miss I Hope’. This error is pointed out on a nearby plaque.

I enjoyed my stroll to, from and around Agay (I covered almost 9 miles in total) but I do wish I had focused more on the surrounding topography and less on the village’s war history whilst drinking my beer. If I had, I would have learned that Agay is also a gateway to the Esterel and my subsequent hike up the Pic du cap Roux (see the blog on Esterel) could have been accomplished in half the time.

Bargemon & Figanieres (Provence-Alpes-Cote d’Azur), France May 2025 (Tour 11)

It is perhaps ironic that the first sortie from our campsite in the Cote d’Azur should take us back into Provence.

We were talking to one of the owners of our campsite and he recommended we try the wines at Chateau Roubine in Lorgues, about 25 miles west of Saint Raphael. That suited me because I had read about and was keen to visit the picturesque medieval village of Bargemon which is about 20 miles north west of St Raphael. I figured we could visit both Bargemon and Lorgues by driving a small isosceles triangle from Saint Raphael (going 20 miles north west to Bargemon by way of Callas; 20 miles south west from Bargemon to Lourges by way of Callas and Figieres and; 25 miles east from Lourges back to Saint Raphael on the E80 road). It would amount to about 3 hours driving in total because most of the roads in that part of the world are slow but we’d get to see both towns and sample a couple of half decent wines.

Oh that it had worked out this way but most everything went slightly awry as we entered Bargemon and a catalogue of events followed which saw this best laid plan of mice and men crumble. We set off in good time and made our way up through Callas to Bargemon and even got to entering the town and within 400 metres of the aire that I was aiming for (on Route de Seillans). And then? We encountered a traffic jam involving a bloody big coach, our Van and three cars. We came in on the Avenue du Colonel Manhes and got as far as the fountain in the town centre when we met the coach coming in the opposite direction. The morons driving the three cars contrived to block both the coach’s road forward and any chance I had of reversing the Van. The only obvious way to untangle the ensuing mess was for me to turn left after the fountain on to Avenue Francois Maurel, such that the coach could make progress along my side of the Avenue du Colonel Manhes. The coach driver appreciated the situation and I turned left, thus freeing the bus. Part two of the plan was that, as soon as I could turn the Van around, I would return back along Avenue Francois Maurel and continue on my way along the Avenue Colonel Manhes to the aire on the Route de Seillans. It wasn’t to be.

There was nowhere I could turn the Van around on the Avenue Francois Maurel and I had to just kept going higher and higher on switchback roads which became increasingly narrow until we found ourselves on the Route de Broves and heading for the Verdon Gorge. Vanya wasn’t happy about that prospect and neither was she happy about my returning to Bargemon along the switchbacks. Talk about being caught between a rock and a half place.

Okay, so I eventually found a turn which would take me down a narrow road (unless I met something coming in the opposite direction) to the little village of Montferrat and then; on to the small town of Figanieres and what Vanya would call ‘proper roads that will get us home’. I think by ‘home’ she meant Saint Raphael but; she was very stressed and it could have been Brighton she was referring to. She’s never been good with heights and the switchbacks were really upsetting her.

We made it safely to Monferrat. We met no other traffic on the way. And then, I made a mistake. I suggested that, since we had missed out on Bargemon, we should stop in Montferrat and chill for a bit. Before Vanya could comment, I had turned off the Route de Castellane (for it was that which we were on) and headed straight into another traffic jam. Some workmen were digging up the road. Traffic on the other side of the roadworks were able to turn around and retrace their steps. The driver of the little car which had followed me into Montferrat was, by a series of skilful manoevres, able to turn his/her car around and disappear. Me? I was stuck.

I got out of the Van and tried to negotiate with the workmen but to no avail. They couldn’t or wouldn’t stop their work. They were laying concrete and, having worked as part of a concrete gang on Streatham High Road in the 1970’s, I could sympathise with them to some extent. It’s difficult to interrupt concrete laying. Having said that, I wasn’t going to wait. I’d had it. They should have put up appropriate signage and organised a detour. I climbed back into the Van and edged my way through. Sod ’em! I don’t know how but, we got past them and continued on to Figanieres for a desperately needed glass of wine and something to eat.

I’m getting stressed again just reading all that back to myself. I’ll leave you with some photos I took in Fiaganieres but, we didn’t stay long. The day had pretty much passed us by and I was exhausted. We were too late for food and we didn’t feel like driving on to Lorgues but I got some red wine and the weather stayed fine throughout.

Only other thing that sticks in my mind about this day was that I recall thinking both Bargemon and Figanieres are fond of their fountains. They seemed to be all over the place. Would I return to these places? Figanieres, I’ve probably seen enough of the town. Montferrat, not a chance. Bargemon, definitely but, next time I’ll wait for the cars to move.

Esterel Massif (Provence-Alpes-Cote d’Azur), France May 2025 (Tour 11)

After selecting the Esterel Caravaning site as our next stopover, Vanya is now in charge. This 5 star campsite, on the outskirts of San Raphael and alongside the Foret Dominiale de L’Esterel (Esterel State Forest), appears to have all the bells and whistles you could ask for in a campsite and looks as if it could beat any of those we have used in the last years, except perhaps the one in Serignan (because of it’s food). Time will tell but, enough about campsites! You can google Esterel Caravaning if you want to know more.

That’s what I wrote almost two weeks ago (although I didn’t finish writing the blog) and I’m now playing catch up from somewhere in Italy. We stayed at the Esterel Caravaning site for an almost unprecedented 7 nights (not least because the weather was great) and we used the place as a base from which to make various sorties in the Van. These included visits to Figanieres (which involved driving through Callas, Bargemon and Montferrat; not all of them by choice), Agay, Port Grimaud and, of course, Saint Raphael itself. I’ll write separately about those visits. For the moment I’ll concentrate on the Esterel State Forest.

Esterel is a 250,000 year old volcanic mountain range (hills, really) of some 32,000 hectares, which includes almost 6,000 hectares of colourful natural forest (the Foret Dominiale de L’Esterel). The forest is criss-crossed by trails for walkers and mountain bikers and there are a few roads (built by the occupying German forces during WWII to provide easy access to the hinterland) but, the use of these roads is restricted particularly during the high season.

I made three visits to the forest and it is a beautiful place to walk although, even out of season, you will rarely have the place to yourself. You’ll stumble across the odd local walking his dog and it’s very popular with mountain bikers (one day I saw hordes of them) but; stay away from the wider trails or, better still, follow some of the many narrow gorges and/or deep ravines and you can avoid most everybody. There was one occasion when I felt I did have the place to myself. I was following what I at first thought was a dried up river bed but it led me to various small pools (complete with fish) and then a stream with some quite fast flowing water which ultimately disappeared underground. I was tempted to take a dip in one of the pools but the water was too cold. It’s pleasant stumbling across such places in what is a mostly arid park.

I mentioned the roads. Short stretches of them are open to the general public all year round. Some lead to small ponds or lakes; others to local tourist attractions, whether it be an old hermit cave or, the one I eventually picked up and which took me part of the way up to the Rock of Saint Pilon on the Pic du Cap Roux.

Okay, some photos and a few words about Esterel Caravaning. They operate a very impressive campsite. The first photo, below, is an official publicity photo providing an overview of the site. The others are mine and, to some extent, they capture the mood of the place…

There was a nice looking restaurant (two actually but, it being out of season, one was closed) although, in truth, the menu didn’t particularly appeal to Vanya. The wine selection in the restaurant is phenomenal – forty pages of wines, many of them very fine wines, including a Chateau Lafite Rothschild Premier Cru 2012 at 980 Euros a bottle. Sadly, that is well beyond my price bracket. The main bar was excellent, albeit a little expensive, but ‘happy hours’ (one at noon and another in the evening) made it very good value.

Of course, campsites are not just about a prime location and decent facilities (although you would have to go a long way to beat the natural beauty of the Esterel Forest and the broader Cote d’Azur and; the facilities/options at Esterel Caravaning are many, varied and, believe me, quite excellent). It is also about what you make of the opportunities while you are there. We were very fortunate in that during our stay we were able to visit some interesting and attractive places (I’ll write about those when I have more time) but, equally important, we met a pleasant and well travelled couple in Jan and Ian and they very much helped complete our stay whenever we met them during the ‘happy hours’. My goodness, I learned a great deal from Ian about Stoke City Football Club’s halfback line of Pejic, Smith and Bloor but; nobody and certainly not a Stoke City supporter (no offence Ian), will ever convince me that Gordon Banks actually saved Geoff Hurst’s penalty at Upton Park in 1971 to deny West Ham a League Cup Final appearance against Chelsea. I was there at the time; standing directly behind the goal in the North Bank and; I saw the ball bounce off Gordon Banks’ head.

Martigues (Provence-Alpes-Cote d’Azur), France May 2025 (Tour 11)

We were attracted to Martigues (often referred to as the Venice of Provence) after it featured in the thriller tv series ‘Prime Target’. Having now visited Martigues, I have to say, I’m not convinced that much of the series was filmed in Martigues but, no matter, we’re delighted it brought us to the place.

This gorgeous little town in the Bouche du Rhone department of Provence is often referred to as the Venice of Provence and it is easy to understand why. It straddles the four mile long Caronte Canal at the canal’s eastern end on the Etang de Berre (a massive lagoon or inland sea). The western end of the canal leads directly into the Mediterranean Sea.

Unfortunately, our drive in to Martigues became a bit of a joke with the Van’s Sat Nav system once again excelling in terms of getting it wrong. The drive from Sainte Croix is not a pretty one as it leads past a large and ugly oil refinery but worse was yet to come with the Sat Nav totally missing the large car park which I was aiming for and; instead, leading me up on to the huge viaduct which spans the Canal de Caronte and; then,when I was slap bang in the middle of the viaduct, telling me I had arrived at my destination. It then turned itself off leaving me somewhat stranded. To be fair, the car park (recommended by Park4Night) was directly underneath the bridge but even so.

Eventually I was parked up on an exceedingly grubby car parking space underneath the viaduct and we began the short walk into Martigues along the side of the Canal de Caronte. I should perhaps explain at this stage that Martigues was originally three distinct villages on the Etang de Berre (with the village of Ferrieres to the north, Jonquieres to the south and the island village simply known as L’Ile in between them) and that they were merged at the instigation of Henry III of France some time during the 16th century. That last piece of information is probably of no interest to you whatsoever but… you know what I’m like. We were on the Jonquieres bank of the canal and planned to walk to the most easterly of it’s bridges and; then cross to L’Ile (supposedly the prettiest part of the town) and; therafter, to Ferrieres (for a scout around and to take lunch); before returning to Jonquires (with it’s labyrinth of lanes) and then back to the Van.

The walk into town along the canal side was straightforward and easy although, Nala and her wheels attracted a great deal of (friendly) interest from the many anglers fishing from the promenade and our progress was therefore slow. No matter, the weather was great and we had all day. Looking across the canal from Jonquieres, L’Ile looks fabulous but once we’d crossed the (swing) bridge and started to wander the small island it proved nothing less than stunning. The canals with their little bridges, the colourful houses and charming fishing boats (it is said that the boat owners would paint their houses with the paint left over from painting their boats) and, in particular, the Miroir aux Oiseaux are enchanting.

In the 19th and early part of the 20th centuries the town became a magnet for painters; Eugene Delacroix, Renoir, Raol Dufy and Charles Malfroy, to name but a few. Renoir did one particular painting in 1888, ‘Port of Martigues’, which captures everything I see and like about Martigues (see below) but; another artist whose work I like and which perhaps best reflects the fishing port of yore is Charles Malfroy .

This is a town where the churches give way to the port areas in terms of beauty but, having said that, the town is blessed with three principal churches – one in each of the villages as were. There’s the Church of Saint Genies in Jonquieres, Eglise de Sainte Madeline (Church of Saint Marie-Madaleine) on L’Ile and Church of Saint Louis in Anjou in Ferrieres. I didn’t get to see inside them all. It wouldn’t have been fair on Vanya and/or our dogs but I did get inside the Eglise de Sainte Madaleine and it is as fine a church as you would expect in such a wondrous place.

We wandered all three aspects of the town and it really is something special but, for me, the Miroir aux Oiseaux takes the biscuit. There are however a few other random photos…

We made time to eat at a small bar-restaurant by the water in Ferrieres. Well, I did. Vanya didn’t fancy anything on the menu and so she sat and waited while I ate a seafood gratin (containing octopus, cuttlefish, prawns and mussels – it wasn’t bad) and then we walked across the town’s swing bridge to a tiny creperie in Jonquieres where Vanya ordered a galette and I partook of a crepe with lemon and sugar. The crepe was so good, Vanya also ordered one and then declared it to be the best she had ever eaten. I couldn’t argue with that.

But I’ve written enough for now. The weather in the north of Italy isn’t looking too good at the moment so; we’ll edge closer to the border but stay in the south of France for a few days longer. We’ve each been to Monaco before but, that aside, the Cote d’Azur is somewhere we’ve not seen a great deal of. I’m almost certain Vanya will have somewhere in mind…

Sainte Croix (Provence-Alpes-Cote d’Azur), France May 2025 (Tour 11)

After leaving Serignan we drove east (passing our 3,000 mile mark for this tour halfway between Montpelier and Arles). We were heading further east into Italy but were determined, first, to make the most of a day at least in Martigues (often referred to as the Venice of Provence). To this end, Vanya found us a campsite just a few miles south of Martigues in the tiny hamlet (and I mean really tiny) of Sainte Croix.

Camping Marius backs on to the beach of a small bay (Anse Sainte Croix) in the Golfe de Lion. There are at least two beaches on the bay and dogs are allowed on the first of these. It wasn’t long, therefore, before we were down on the beach with Nala and Beanie and, naturally, whilst there, I skipped over a small rise (by the lifeguard station) to check out the second beach where dogs are not allowed. There are other campsites in the immediate area of the beaches but ours was the only one open so early in the year and, except for a handful of people on the beach, I had the area pretty much to myself.

Behind this second, very pretty beach, is a small promontory overlooking the bay and on it are two chapels. The first is the 12th century ruin of Saint Terro and the second is the 17th century Chapel of Saint Croix. I was unable to gain access to either but the views weren’t bad. Further along on the promontory are what’s left of some WWII defensive fortifications (gun emplacements, small bunkers and a concrete mount for radar equipment) which were installed by the Luftwaffe following the German occupation of France. The views from this point out to sea and back across the bay are excellent and the Cap Couronne lighthouse is easily visible to the west of the bay.

Anyway, enough about Sainte Croix. It’s Martigues we’re here to see…

Serignan (Occitaine), France May 2025 (Tour 11)

We came to Serignan for a couple of nights to take advantage of Yelloh’s Camping Le Serignan Plage. We would then continue east to Italy, stopping off at the beautiful little coastal town of Martigues on our way. I’ll write about Martigues later.

A little about Serignan first and then a great deal lot more about La Serignan Plage. I make no apologies for focusing on Camping La Serignan Plage at the expense of Serignan Town. We needed the break and, anyway, Serignan is mostly about it’s beautiful beaches which Yelloh Camping Le Serignan Plage has in abundance.

Serignan is situated in the Herault department of Occitaine, less than 10 miles south of the thriving town of Beziers and, perhaps, 14 miles west of Agde with it’s fortified cathedral. It sits on the banks of the River Orb and comprises a small compact old town, a port, some beaches and, not forgetting, the Orpellieres Nature Reserve.

Starting with the old town, the Collegiate Church of Notre Dame de Grace is at the heart of the old town. It’s foundations date from the 10th century but it has been modified numerous times; most recently during the 1960’s. It’s a large church for such a small place; 3 naves and 10 chapels and there’s a small trapdoor in front of the choir which leads to the graves of 40 canons who have been interred in the church over the years. To my mind, it’s most impressive features are the 7 tall stained glass windows in the apse

Serignan’s port is a bit of a misnomer. There used to be a port and it used to serve the city of Beziers but it’s long gone. In it’s place is a burgeoning marina for leisure craft; sailing yachts mostly. In terms of it’s facilities I think this is best described as work in progress for the moment but I don’t doubt, the authorities will get it right here.

I’ve said already that Serignan is all about it’s beaches. I’ve read that there are four in total; La Chapelle, the Seoune, the Grand Maire Beach and a naturist beach which hasn’t been given a name (probably to discourage voyeurs from goggling googling it). However, I believe there’s a fifth beach, L’Orpellieres, with it’s impressive dunes, which fronts the Orpellieres Nature Reserve.

Of course, the Yelloh Camping Le Serignan Plage has pride of place amongst the beaches. They are wonderful… but, everything about Le Seignan Plage is first class. Small wonder they are ranked amongst the top 10 of France’s 12,000+ campsites. We have long been impressed by Yelloh La Brasilia down near Perpignan but, after a couple od days down at Serignan, I think Le Serignan Plage just edges it.

I’ll let the photos do the talking…

… and there is so much more about the place; their own baker, butcher, even a fishmonger; minimarket, shops & hairdressers, etc. You need only look at their web site for full details.

We’d have stayed longer but for the weather which was bringing mosquitos out in ever increasing numbers. Where’s the hot sun when you need it?

Aigues Vives (Occitaine), France May 2025 (Tour 11)

We were making our way to Italy and our next planned stop after Lourdes was to be a 5 star campsite in Serignan some 3 to 4 hours or so to the east of Lourdes. Vanya has had enough of the inclement weather and wants a couple of days in a nice place so as to “realign” (my word, not hers).

And then we discovered we could have a problem. France has long operated a Low Emissions Zone around Paris (not dissimilar to that in London) which has seen us studiously avoid that city. The French system is known as the ZFE, which is short for ‘zones a faibles emissions’. It seems that since January 2025, France has extended the ZFE to include any city of more than 150,000 people and to travel through such areas, drivers (and this includes drivers of foreign registered cars and motorcycles) must first obtain and display a ‘Crit Air’ vignette. Failure to display a vignette is to break the law and will in all likelihood lead to fines.

We could apply for a vignette online but, having read up on the subject, it seems such applications can take weeks to process and, even then, the vignette is sent to the puchaser’s home address. That left us in the lurch because Toulouse and Lower Gascony, through which we would have to travel to get to Serignan, operate the ZFE system. We were left with no choice but to make a detour around Toulouse and Lower Gascony and that detour both added hours to our journey and prompted an overnight stop in Aigues Vives. The vicissitudes of life, eh?

And Aigues Vives? Don’t go there. The campsite got us through the night but there’s little else in this tiny village which straddles the D625 road. There’s a bakery and a church (although both were closed) and you can see from the Hotel de Ville and the odd statue alongside it… well, no more need be said except, perhaps, that we both now need to realign.

Postscript: Don’t rely on my website for the latest information on ZFE. Look for the official sources regarding this subject because it is a moving feast. Also, I have since read further about the ZFE and, while they may not be official sites, the following sites proved helpful to me:- www.frenchemissionssticker.com. and Connexionfrance.com.

Lourdes (Occitaine), France May 2025 (Tour 11)

We drove through Peyrehorade today and paused to check out the farmer’s market (I’ve see better) but our ultimate destination was Lourdes and, in particular, Lourdes Sanctuary.

I’ve passed the Lourdes Sanctuary many times before when using the A64 on our way to or from Spain (that stretch of road from Toulouse to Bayonne is also part of the E80 Trans European Motorway which extends from Lisbon in Portugal to Gurbula on Turkey’s border with Iran) but; I’ve never felt inclined to visit before. I’m not even sure why I stopped this time. I certainly didn’t visit as a pilgrim (as 3 million people do every year); I was simply interested to see what it is that attracts so many people and, I’m pleased I did. It is a spectacular place and it proved an inspiring visit – It was almost humbling to witness so much honest to goodness faith. There were people there from all over the world and the unbridled joy of many at completing this pilgrimage was palpable. It was often vocal too with some of the larger visiting groups spontaneously breaking into hymns. That was wonderful to hear and more than once brought a happy smile to my face.

The first of the two photos below is not mine. It is from an exhibition on display in the Sanctuary Grounds while I was there. It is one of many which moved me. The second is a photo I took in the Basilica of the Immaculate Conception. I don’t pretend my photo is in the same league as those on display in the exhibition. It isn’t. I reproduce them here simply as examples of the aforementioned ‘honest to goodness faith’ that I witnessed. To my mind, both of these photos, unlike the rest of my photos in this blog, serve to identify Lourdes as a place of Roman Catholic pilgrimage and not a tourist resort.

I’ll not repeat everything I learned about Lourdes before, during and since my visit. I’m sure anyone can discover as much as I did about the place (and more) through Google but I’ll leave you with an introduction to the Sanctuary (if you should need it) and some photos.

Starting with the introduction, I’ll simply reproduce what is written on the Lourdes Sanctuary website:-

Since the apparitions of the Virgin Mary in 1858, millions of people from all over the world have flocked to Lourdes every year to experience the grace of this place. The Sanctuary of Our Lady of Lourdes is above all the place of healing of bodies and hearts where one comes to pray humbly to the one who revealed her name to Bernadette Soubirous: “I am the Immaculate Conception”.

And as for some (tourist style) photos:-

I wandered Lourdes Sanctuary for a number of hours (taking a great many more photos than have been reproduced here) and then visited the town (intending to return to the Sanctuary early the next morning, when fewer people were about and when the light would be better, to improve on my photos). Entry into the Sanctuary is free and it is open to the public at this time of the year from 06.00 to 01.00! Good idea but the plan didn’t work. The visit to the town was a waste of time (it’s full of tat, plastic relics, etc) and then, I didn’t get back to the Sanctuary the next day. So, the only part of the sanctuary that I did any justice to was the Basilica of the Immaculate Conception. In case you are unaware, there are another two Basilica’s and 25 Chapels (to say nothing of the numerous statues and dioramas). Next time?

Urt (Nouvelle Aquitaine), France May 2025 (Tour 11)

We crossed back into France because the weather in Spain was proving so unpredictable. All things being equal, we’ll head for the south of Italy (Puglia) but will stay in the south of France until bad weather once again moves us on.

Not far over the border with Spain in the Pyrenees Atlantiques department of Nouvelle Aquitaine is the small town (less than 2,500 inhabitants) of Urt. It sits on the banks of the Adour River about 15 kilometres east of Bayonne and, for much of the town’s history, it’s principal industry has been large scale salmon fishing from the Adour although; there is evidence too of boat building in the area. Nowadays, with salmon levels reducing, Urt is busy rebranding itself with a primary focus towards tourism and, particularly, angling and hiking opportunities in the area.

We chose to stay at a small but very comfortable camping site, Camping Ferme des 4 Chenes, which is just short walk from the town centre. Vanya wanted to give Nala a rest day and offered to stay with the dogs (and work on her tan) while I set off to explore the town.

Urt is not a big town and doesn’t require much more than an afternoon to properly explore (and that includes the 4 mile walk to Belloc Abbey, assuming you are interested in a working Benedictine Monastery). For my part, the town’s most interesting feature is it’s church, Our Lady of the Assumption of Urt. There’s been a church by this name in Urt since at least the 11th or 12th century but this building was constructed as recently as 1675 in the typically Pays de Basque style (white walls and timber frame with large wooden galleries inside) which I adore. Despite it’s relatively small size it has so many arresting attributes and, principal amongst these, are the impressive baptismal font, some wonderful stained glass windows by Charles Carrere (not all of them religious) and there’s a votive ship suspended from the ceiling in the nave (dating back to the late 19th century) which is, presumably, a nod to the town’s shipbuilding past. Most unusual is the church organ behind the altar. These Basque style churches really are something else.

Another salute to the town’s Basque heritage is to be found in Castet’s Park where a pelota court was built in 1929. Seeing it reminded me of our stay in Ascain a few tours ago when I stopped to watch part of a pelota tournament. By the way, the Castet Park offers a route down to the Adour River and is worth walking through if only to see the old washhouse which was fully restored by volunteers from the village.

There’s little left down by the river to remind you of the town’s fishing heritage except perhaps the Auberge de La Galupe. More than 300 years old this building on the towpath served as an inn for the town’s fishermen and, of course, bargemen travelling the river. It later became a restaurant and was owned and operated for more than 30 years by one of Urt’s most favourite sons, Christian Parra. He won two Michelin Stars during that time and was famous for, amongst other things, his black pudding, tuna belly and local salmon creations before retiring in 2002. The restaurant is now operated by Stephane Besse and remains a renowned restaurant but is closed on Monday and Tuesday (isn’t everything in France?) or I would have tried to reserve a table. Shame, because the taster menu looks so very exciting and fairly priced.

There are a couple of other restaurants in the town, a bar and a few shops (including a reasonaby well stocked mini-market) but nearby Belloc Abbey and it’s Benedictine Monastery called. The community comprises some 40 monks who support themselves by offering overnight accommodation (for those who seek peace and quiet for a period) and through the production and sale of a traditionally produced, semi-hard sheep’s cheese known simply as Abbaye de Belloc. The taste of the cheese is not unlike burnt caramel and it pairs well with a range of red, white and rose wines. It is recommended however that the cheese be complemented by crackers (to produce a crunchy element which goes with the creamy texture of the cheese) or honey (to add a touch of sweetness) or olives (which provides a salty and/or briny flavour which pairs well with the cheese and creates a well balanced bite). Who am I to argue with that? It appears a very successful little business.

Next stop is Lourdes by way of Peyrehorade (and it’s farmers market).

Torrelavega & Cartes (Cantabria), Spain May 2025 (Tour 11)

We took a day out from Ceceno to visit Torrelavega so as to stock up with supplies from the Carrefour Hypermarket and visit the nearby town of Cartes which had been recommended as a place to visit by one of the bar staff at our campsite.

Torrelavega is a sizeable industrial centre (51,000 inhabitants) about 17 or 18 miles to the west of Cantabria’s capital city Santander. It doesn’t appear to have a lot going for it except that a great many supermarkets are grouped together in a large retail area to the east of the city and Vanya wanted to stock up on Cava and Albarino wines before we left Spain. It suited our needs perfectly.

Just 4 miles south of Torrelavega is Cartes, sometimes called Cards. Cartes is a small medieval town of almost 6,000 people. I say ‘medieval’ but there’s really just the one street, Camino Real, with it’s rows of small stone mansions (so typical of Canatabria) which reflects anything medieval and even then it is late medieval. In fact, most of the houses date from between the 15th and 18th centuries.

We wandered up and down the mostly pedestrian Camino Real a couple of times with Vanya checking out a small store selling various local produce and buying me one of the local ciders. Camino Real is a beautiful street and was alone worth the trip out. The mountain mansions that line this street, many with coats of arms carved into the facade and wooden balconies filled with plants and; large ceramic flower pots lining the pavement create something of a spectacle. One of the older buildings on the street proved to be a small and very friendly bar. We took lunch there – some good wines, a plate of assorted cold cuts and cheeses and the best croquettes I have ever tasted (being two each of Iberico ham, prawns and some truly delicious cheese ones). We also got to talking with one of the locals who insisted on buying me “a special Cantabrian wine” which tasted not unlike the txakoli wine I sampled in Zarautz way back on Tour 5 in the Basque Country. It’s not my favourite type of wine but, hey, it would have been rude to say no.

This was a very short trip to Cantabria but I know we’ll return. It’s on now to Urt on the other side of the Pyrenees.