Traversing France (trains are great)

Thursday, 1st December and we pack up and leave Nice and make our way from the deep South East of France (Côte d'azur) to the far south western region of Haute-Garonne or Toulouse.

We set off around 10:00am and will disembark at Toulouse around 5:00pm. Once before we drove this route in reverse and took a couple of days. It was a pleasant and relaxing way to do it this time; by train. Regardless of what the kids thought!

Spectacularly the train hugged the Mediterranean coast as if any closer we'd need our snorkel. Passing through beachside towns and capturing glimpses of a life past that was once grand and even extravagant then a tunnel would open to a breathtaking view of a rugged coastline dotted with Villas and cliff defying cottages. Effortlessly slipping through the the French countryside witnessing the autumn hue change as we inched further west and slowly North. The Oak forest's golden set amongst the pine. The basalt ridges and presipices looming above us as we trundled through Provence. The vineyards displaying their reds and yellows and oranges. The olive Groves and the gnarled old trees being harvested. Leafless walnuts and fig trees lining the tracks. The whole scene was one of preparation for the winter. Closing down for the season; resting after a hard and dry summer of production. Getting ready for a hard earned rest.

The further we travelled the faster the names went by. Toulon, Marseille, Nimes and Narbonne. Each marking a different region and different landscape. The Camargue and its watery, salty flats, its ponies and salt farms: and we were even lucky enough to see a mob of flamingos standing ground in a briney swamp.

From Narbonne we really started the inland journey. The farm land more broadacre (by French standards) with cereal crops just peeping through the rich deep volcanic soils. Fallow turned over like soft chocolate almost inviting and mousse like in texture. You just know this land yeilds heavy productive crops. It oozes fertility.

Still, the common French sight of grape ever present; in all the country we've seen today, from the harsh dry South the salty Camargue to here, the rich alluvial Languedoc-Roussillon, the one common element is grape. Now though, here the leaves are gone and the Vines are pruned and sleeping.  It's visibly colder to that of Nice. And then, we arrive in Toulouse. We will spend four days here before heading deeper into The Dordogne.