Villers-le-Lac to Les Seignes : Day 166

A change in landscape and weather today.

After a few warm, sunny days the temperature has dropped. It is windy, clouds have appeared and conditions are more typical of April. Fortunately only a few spots of the forecast rain fell and there were patches of sun. As for landscape, having followed the River Doub for two days, the GR5 now climbed into the mountains of the Haut Doubs. I walked through conifers and cow pastures at heights of over 1000 metres.

The Swiss border had turned south a little before Villers-le-Lac. Leaving the town after a visit to the supermarket this morning, a lengthy climb ensued to regain the border on a high ridge. Border stones, at irregular intervals marked my route for a few kilometres. These were numbered and on the top was a line carved into the stone and highlighted in red which marked the exact position of the border and in which direction it continued. As the path was rocky in places I was careful in placing my feet in order to protect my left knee from any lateral or turning movements. In addition I was wearing my knee support in the hope it would reduce the swelling that prevented my knee bending fully.

Trees generally obscured the view but in a gap I could see to the north more urban areas than I expected in the vicinity of Villers-le-Lac. The GR5 itself runs through remote areas but one can never be sure quite how close large settlements are. Modernity also intruded in the shape of a large metal tower, possibly for television transmissions?

View over Villers-le-Lac.

Leaving the border for a while, the route followed roads with a deviation to a large, concrete cross. Trees had been managed so that the  cross could be seen from the north, which also meant I could see the countryside. Here there were fewer buildings other than a village directly below and more gentle tree covered ridges, green fields and meadows. Some of the trees lining the path in recent days have been really tall and I have been passing the harvested trunks. Far too long for telegraph poles, I wondered if these long sections had a special use.

Later view from cross with fewer houses.

There were many yellow flowers such as Marsh Marigolds in ditches and these flowers on drier ground which looked like a cross between primroses and cowslips.

There was much climbing with a total ascent of 1300 metres today, but some of it was on roads which was easier on my knee. One such road climb led to the Col de Châteleu, where there was an Auberge (closed until May). I had planned to stay by Les Seignes. There was an area for tents with a cabin and a basic toilet, but it was early and the location was exposed to the wind which was forecast to increase. Consequently I continued. A Gîte d'Etape was signposted but somehow I missed it and just kept going. 

The GR5 returned to the border, crossing briefly into Switzerland. On returning to France in a wooded area I picked a flattish spot to pitch my tent, clearing away fallen branches. While the trees are protecting me from the wind I am hoping no large branches fall off onto my tent.

27.9 kilometres walked today with a 1200 metre ascent.

La Rasse to Villers-Le-Lac: Day 165

A walk through and above the Doubs gorge today, with an impressive waterfall.

Leaving my camping spot at 7:00 am to an orchestra of birdsong, I continued close to the river, steep wooded slopes and cliffs, rising beside me. Moss, flourishing in the damp air at the valley base, covered trees and older rocks beside the path.  Newer rocks, not yet colonised, must have recently fallen down the overgrown scree beside me. Periodically, the rocky path encountered fisherman's cabins. Although not occupied there were fishermen about, I encountered a few on the path with their rods. Last night, in the dusk after I had made camp a couple had been heading downriver in their boats, although it was more of a lake than a river due to the hydroelectric dam downstream. 

Above the lake the river resumed its frothy, tumble over rocks. There was a hydroelectric power station on the Swiss side but no dam, I assume its head of water came from a tributary that once entered here. The valley was so narrow, and the land each side so much higher, that a funicular had been built to service the plant. 

Moss covered trees and rocks beside path.

The power station was opposite a wooden shelter the "Abri du Torret". Beyond it the riverside path was subject to rock falls, so the GR5 headed steeply up the valley side on a switch back path among conifers and beside sections of cliff. I was glad to reach the top when a road and then a forest track took me gradually back down towards the Châtelot Barrage or dam. There was a good view of the barrage and the adjacent limestone cliffs from the car park. To reach the barrage itself there were several flights of shallow steps which allowed me to loose height relatively painlessly. A number of runners passed in the opposite direction. 

Doubs Valley by the Châtelot Barrage.

Beyond the barrage lay another artificial lake. I followed the lake as the valley curved around to reach a striking point where rocky headlands on each side of the valley approached each other, markedly reducing the lake's width. I wondered if there had been a waterfall here before the barrage filled the bottom of the valley with water. I had to walk to the end of the lake to see the waterfall at Sant du Doubs, although my main interest was the kiosk which sold me a Coke and Magnum Ice Cream. Suitably refreshed I returned to view the impressive waterfall with crowds of day trippers. From the kiosk and restaurant by Sant du Doubs the path climbed up to a road, from which I could look down on the lake that filled the incised meandered above the waterfall. A few pleasure boats were giving tourists a tour of the valley from the level of the water. I imagined that the Jura mountains rose up as the Alps to the south were formed, and the original River Doubs, with its wide meanders, cut down into the rock as it rose, keeping pace with the buckling of the earth's surface.

Sant du Doubs Waterfall, note the people for scale.

Incised meander of Doubs.

The remainder of today's walk followed an easy road walk to Villers-Le-Lac, which I appreciated as my left knee was struggling to bend, having had enough of rocky paths and climbing up and down the valley side. I had put on my knee support while drinking my Coke, but thought it unlikely to completely resolve the problem. 

I am now settled in the Hotel de France. As its restaurant is closed Sunday nights I had dinner in a Kebab place followed by a lovely, blonde bière in a bar.

24.4 kilometres walked today based on my GPS, although some of the readings were erratic due to the narrowness of the valley making it difficult for the GPS to read the satellite readings correctly, I deleted the erratic points. Total ascent was 910 metres.

Goumois to La Rasse: Day 164

A contrast to previous days, today my trip was down the narrow valley of the River Doubs. 

I walked from my campsite into the centre of Goumois for a coffee and croissant at the shop. The helpful owner also made a ham and cheese sandwich for my lunch which I supplemented with an apple and chocolate. He used the local Comté cheese which added flavour. A more basic lunch than my dinner last night.

Being a sunny Saturday, there were many walkers out for the day. I played tag with one family, I would overtake them when they stopped for a photo, and they would pass me when I removed an item of clothing as the day warmed up. There was a circuit which people seemed to be walking, going down the French side of the river, crossing a bridge, then returning on the Swiss side. A healthy distance as bridges were widely spaced. All the restaurants seemed to be on the Swiss side which seemed more developed than the French riverside.

River Doubs with some morning mist.

Path beside the river.

I stopped by the little chapel of Bief d'Etoz, admiring the coloured patterns on the pews, made by the sunlight shining through the stained glass windows, and praying for people both alive and departed. Continuing along the valley the path passed the meagre ruins of an old glass works. 

Climbing uphill the trail led me to a shelter in the remains of La Charbonnière, an old farmhouse. I lunched on a bench. Although open on three sides a roof kept the sun off me while I enjoyed my sandwich. The day was particularly hot considering it was April. A man on a "scrambler" bike rode by, the noise cutting through the birdsong.

I then took a higher level alternative of the path to visit "Les Échelles de la Mort" (the scales of death). To descend these cliffs a series of ladders are attached to the rock, easy to use with attached handrails. More interesting were the people on the "via ferrata", climbing up wires and around scary cliff heights. Fortunately, they all seemed to have lanyards to clip onto the safety wires, which would save you if you fell. Not sure what you do if you are just too scared to continue, the route seemed "one way". As I descended the ladders I was aware that my left knee did not want to bend much. A problem I have had before, I understand it is due to fluid filling a cavity behind my knee, called a "Baker's Cyst". Probably it was caused by a combination of my arthritis and climbing up and down mountains and along rocky paths yesterday and today. While it will go down if I rest for a few days, that is a bit awkward on a long distance walk. I put on a knee support to help control it.

People on the Via Ferrata of Les Échelles de la Mort.

Ladders I used to climb down.

There were a series of barrages or dams today, built to extract hydroelectric power from the Doubs. The dams created artificial lakes behind them which has rather changed the character of the valley base. In addition there were warnings that due to the hydroelectric plants, the water level could rise suddenly. This could an issue as I will be wild camping tonight in the absence of any other accommodation. The guidebook referred to a hotel at La Rasse, but this appears to have closed some time ago.

I walked beyond La Rasse in a particularly secluded part of the valley, away from roads and buildings. Its steep sides meant places to to pitch my tent were limited. With the warnings of a sudden rises in water level I was pleased to find a flat spot above any likely water level at the site of another old glassworks "La Verrerie de la Guêpe". In addition to a picnic table there was a spring, very welcome as in the hot weather I was running through my water supply very quickly. The porous, limestone geology means that surface water sources can be hard to find. There was also a locked wooden building, a lot of empty wine bottles, the remains of a few fires, a couple of bird feeders and a mouse that ran off. Despite these signs of visitors I am hoping no-one will disturb me tonight, not even a mouse.

Artificial lake in Doubs Valley beside where I camped.

23.5 kilometres walked today with a total ascent of 670 metres.

St Hippolyte to Goumois: Day 163

More uphill today as I walked from the River Doubs up over mountains before returning to the river higher up its course.

A light mist filled the valley when I woke this morning, there was a damp cold in the air, my tent was wet with condensation. The sun had yet to reach the valley floor although it had turned the cliffs at the top of the mountain opposite a shade of orange. Donning my warm jacket I walked to the centre of town to pick up coffee and pastries at the boulangérie, which I ate in the town square. Apart from a few children on their way to school the town was quiet. 

After returning to pack up my tent I continued on the GR5. Rather than follow the valley floor, the path climbed up its side before dropping back down again to a collection of strung out houses. Crossing the river the longer climbs of the day began. The valley sides were steep, tall, and frustrating to climb. I kept thinking the top of the ridge was just ahead of me, only to find when I reached it that there was a higher skyline beyond. Then, when I finally crested the top and descended into a valley,  there was another ridge waiting for me to climb over. My total ascent today was a healthy 1000 metres. After the morning mist cleared there were blue skies and sunlight. The temperature rose rapidly and with all the climbing my sweat shirt soon became wet with sweat. Changing into a tee shirt brought a bit of relief (swapping clothes during the day is one advantage of carrying all your clothes on your back, although today I was wishing my rucksack was a little lighter).

Much of my day was spent walking in woodland, deciduous and coniferous, the trees providing welcome shade, but there were also fields of grass, more yellow than green at times with all the dandelions. Although quiet minor roads formed much of the trail, there were also forest tracks and paths. Flowers brightened the wayside; pink campion, cowslips and many others in yellow, white and purple.

Dandelion filled field.

The main village I visited today, Courtefontaine, had a traditional lavoir with the usual signs, advising that the water was not for drinking. However there were also "tap" signs suggesting a nearby source of potable water. I was in need of water as I had not anticipated such a hot day with so many uphills. Following the signs led me in the wrong direction but a guy driving a tractor pointed out the tap in a lean-to beside the Mairie. Sadly the tap was seized, I was unable to turn it on. The other disappointment was that the bar/restaurant cited in my guidebook had closed long ago. Faded signs showed where it once refreshed the passing traveller.

Signs had informed me that I was in the "Le Pays Horloger", land of the watchmakers. It seems the tradition of Swiss watchmaking had spilled over the border here. One of the signs was by a small chapel that was having its roof repaired. It marked the start of a long descent into Goumois. The village lies at the bottom of the valley where a bridge crosses the Doubs into Switzerland. I had sight of it from a viewpoint located on the top of an old pill box. The GR5 conveniently led directly to the simple campsite, where I pitched, let the tent dry out, phoned my wife and showered. Somewhat disappointed that my sweatshirt now has white salt marks from the drying sweat.

This evening I am again at an expensive restaurant, there being limited alternatives. Starters was a salad with saussicon, for the main I had fried and battered carp which seems a regional dish, a fish not served in Britain, and for dessert an unusual take on tarte tatin (not an improvement in my opinion), all supplemented by a glass of the local white wine. I will not be eating so well tomorrow as I expect to be wild camping, lacking any alternative accommodation. 

Path approaching Goumois.

Looking down on Goumois

24.9 kilometres today with a 1010 metre total ascent.

Dasle to St Hippolyte: Day 162

A big change from yesterday, lots of walking uphill as I reached, then followed, the Swiss border.

Returning to Dasle from my Château in Beaucourt I popped into a boulangérie to pick up some breakfast, but no plain croissants! I had to make do with one filled with blueberry jam and a pain au raisin rather spoilt by an icing topping. Why do they make things so sweet! Then it was a brief walk over fields to the next village of Vandoncourt. Like many villages in the area it had a lavoir, a stone trough and water supply once used for washing clothes. I climbed out of Vandoncourt through woodland to reach the Pont Sarrazin, a limestone natural bridge in a narrow valley. Apparently a lady was kidnapped by a Saracen and to escape jumped off her horse into a gorge. A bridge miraculously appeared to save her from certain death. The Saracen tried to follow but the horse fell off the bridge and he died.

Le Pont Sarrazin.

My next village on the GR5 was Abbévillers, where I diverted to another boulangérie for a coffee and a "jambon fumé" roll for lunch. The kindly shop keeper also offered to fill up my water bottle, which was much appreciated as the weather was hotter than I expected. I had consulted various forecasts and monthly averages before my trip which had convinced me to bring winter gear, but today a sun hat would have helped and tomorrow is set to be warmer. Fortunately I added a tee shirt to my packing at the last moment.

More woodland followed with a number of climbs. The route led me to the French Swiss border which the GR5 ran along for several kilometres. About every hundred metres there was a square border stone. On one side an "F" was carved in the stone, and on the other, either the cross of the Swiss flag, or on older stones, a bear on a shield representing the Canton of Bern.

Swiss side of border stone.

I lunched in a dandelion covered field before walking down into the next village of Villars-lès-Blamont. In its centre there were a number of wooden figures doing various things: reading a book, showing a painting and removing one's head. Climbing into the woods beyond I reached the Fort Lomont Battery. Located on the top of limestone cliffs, an excellent position for defence, it was hard to see the remains due to all the trees, although some deep ditches cut into the rock were locally visible.

Wooden painter and dog.

I had been thinking of trees over the day. The beech saplings in the understorey beside the path had new, delicate, drooping leaves in a bright green. Over summer they will thicken and darken nourishing the young tree before turning brown and dropping at the end of the year. Lower down scattered over the earth beside the path, seedlings were bursting out of last year's nuts, so many, few, if any, will survive.

At the entrance of Chamesol there was an old customs hut, another sign I was close to the Swiss border. Now superfluous it was available to walkers who wished to rest or maybe shelter from the rain.

Looking down on St Hippolyte.

My approach to St Hippolyte, my destination for tonight, was downhill through deciduous woodland, losing much of the height I had gained in the day. A long descent resulted in complaints from my left knee and I was glad of a rest at a small chapel. Light shining through the stained glass windows gave a play of colours on the walls.

Tonight I am camping. Not many people were about this early in the season so I had plenty of choice on where to camp. Although the village had a number of restaurants, most seemed to be closed. Not fancying a take away kebab I have ended up at an expensive place. The soup had unrecognisable fungi floating in it, but tasted fine. I settled for trout with almonds for the main course which was not too costly and I could not resist the lemon meringue tart for dessert. Outside the window beside my table the River Doubs is flowing under a bridge. I shall be following the valley of this river for the next few days, some of it remote from settlements.

27.9 kilometres with 950 metres total ascent.

Belfort-Montbéliard TGV station to Dasle: Day 161

A day of three parts: a walk to Châtenois-les-Forges to rejoin the E2; a stroll by water, lakes and canals; and then an undulating trip through deciduous woodland. 

Leaving the industrial looking area around the TGV railway station I first followed a cycle path around the edge of a village, by a pond where I disturbed a heron. To the north, fragments of the Vosges mountains that I crossed last time could be seen at times. When the cycle path headed off north I was forced to walk along the edge of the road across two roundabouts to reach a hospital where a cycle path beside the road provided a more pleasant way to reach Châtenois-les-Forges.

When I passed through the town on my last trip I visited a boulongerie which also served coffee at pleasant window seats. My memory of where it was located proved remarkably accurate. As it was elevenses time when I reached the establishment I settled down to a coffee créme and a tarte aux framboise. The latter was exceptional. As I bit into the fresh raspberries, after gentle resistance they burst open, full of flavour. The sweet, creamy filling softly parted before the crisp, pastry base gave way after a brief delay (dropping a few crumbs on the floor).

Suitably refreshed and carrying a spiced chicken filled half baguette for lunch, I joined the GR5, its waymarks occasionally paired with those for the E2. There were also a few "Chemin de St Jacques de Compostelle" and E5 waymarks as these long distance routes crossed mine.

My path threaded its way through a collection of lakes, bordered by trees. Old gravel pits beside the river I assumed, but now used for fishing, wildlife and on one lake, activities such as bathing, canoeing and stand up paddleboards. Leaving the lakes I followed a path beside the Canal de la Haute-Saône. Trees in fresh green leaf lined the still waters and birdsong accompanied my walk. Bunches of mistletoe were visible on trees yet to be fully dressed in leaf. Crossing an aqueduct over a river I joined the Canal du Rhône au Rhin, or at least a silted up section of it. Willow branches swept down to greet me, partially hiding an adjacent area of light industry. 

One of the lakes beneath grey skies (but fortunately little rain).

Bridge over the Canal de la Haute-Saône.

After my baguette beside a church and a stone lion's head spouting water from its mouth, I started on the woodland. Young beech and birch trees among others lined the paths that traversed the low hills. A few grey haired men were undertaking forestry work with old tractors, creating piles of logs.

Walk in the woods.

From the hill above the village of Dasle, beyond the green and yellow fields of grass and rapeseed, I could see the wooded hills of the Jura mountains rising in the distance, hills I would soon be climbing over. Reaching the village I turned off the GR5 to find my lodging for the night in nearby Beaucourt. I had reserved a room in a château guarded by private property signs. There was no answer at the only bell I could find, nor from the telephone number in the booking confirmation. Next to a "closed" sign there were two telephone numbers. The second finally led to a response and I am now in a high ceilinged room in modern, inoffensive grey tones. Having a shower I was a little disturbed by the lack of a curtain in the bathroom, afraid my naked body might to visible through the tall windows. Maybe a French thing I thought. Only later did I discover a bank of switches to lower concealed blinds.

Château Japy where I am staying is linked to a major industrial conglomerate which peaked in the 19th century. The founder brought modern industrial techniques to watch making before his sons expanded into typewriters, welding machines etc.. Their factory and residence was here in Beaucourt. Andre Japy, one of the descendants was a famous aviator in the 1930's establishing many long distance records. Sadly, the village's glory years have now passed, but at least one large building with shattered glass windows is being renovated and repurposed for the modern world.

22.4 kilometres to Dasle from TGV station, with an extra 3.1 kilometres to lodgings at Beaucourt. Total ascent 260 metres.

Back to Belfort: Day 159 & 160

Two days of travelling across England and France to the Belfort-Montbéliard TGV train station.

If it were not for a train strike in Britain I could have returned to the GR5 in one day. However, industrial action by train drivers forced me to use a bus to reach London and timings were such that I had to start the previous day and stay overnight in the capital city. In compensation, after leaving my "youth" hostel in central London I enjoyed a morning wandering around Regent's Park, the tulips and cherry blossom especially attractive. Then, after admiring the oversized statue of a giant couple kissing at St Pancras station I caught a busy Eurostar train to Paris. On leaving the Channel Tunnel and entering France a neighbouring passenger squealed with delight as her smart watch automatically advanced one hour to continental time. The wonders of modern technology!

For my second stroll of the day through a capital city, I spent an hour walking across Paris from Gare du Nord to Gare de Lyon, the trees beside the wide boulevards in young green leaf, as yet unsullied by the grime of the passing traffic.

The last stage of my journey through the darkening evening was on the fast TGV train to Belfort-Montbéliard. These train lines look good from a distance as the tracks stride straight across valleys on long, light viaducts. When actually sitting in a carriage it did not seem much different from normal trains, especially in an aisle seat like mine. (I did not like to look out of the window too much, which might have given me an impression of speed, in case the lady next to me thought I was eyeing her up). Busy at first, I was one of the few remaining passengers in the double decker train when I detrained at my destination. Now approaching ten pm I was glad I could see the garish green of my hotel for the night from the station exit. 

Regent's Park 

A walk through Paris