Pilgrim's Progress – Long Distance Walks in Europe and the UK

American guest: ‘Is there anywhere they do French food?’

Basil: ‘Yes, France, I believe. They seem to like it there. And the swim would certainly sharpen your appetite. You’d better hurry, the tide leaves in six minutes.’

Basil Fawlty – Fawlty Towers

I don’t want to be too critical of the Hotel des Sites in Salavas, but it bore a curious resemblance to the fictional hotel Fawlty Towers run by the hen pecked, gaffe prone Basil Fawlty.

When I arrived, shortly after midday, the proprietor was sitting hunched on a chair on the pavement outside the hotel sipping a pastis. Next to him was a thin balding diminutive chap in his mid 40s with a slightly gormless smile who could have been the chef, a relative or just a drinking buddy (I never discovered which!), sipping a beer.

The proprietor could barely be bothered to get to his feet when I arrived. Sporting a beer belly, a receeding hairline, a gold chain around his beefy neck and grey stubble masking his face with a half smoked cigarette stuck to his lower lip, he reminded me of the small time crook, Claude Greengrass, in the 1950s Yorkshire crime caper, Heartbeat.

Maybe the proprietor’s ancestors were salt smugglers from Salavas!According to local legend smugglers used to dump contraband salt (sel lavé) into a well (fontaine salée) to avoid the salt tax (gabelle), giving Salavas its name!

When I came down for supper at 7.30pm, the pair of them were still ensconced together on tbe pavement drinking pastis and beer.

My polite request for supper was received as if I was an alien who had recently arrived from outer space! I retreated into the hotel dining area and wandered around for a while, waiting for something to happen. Eventually the proprietor appeared and irascibly enquired whether I wanted to eat inside or out. I plumped for the pavement option. Even if I’d be inhaling carbon monoxide fumes with my spaghetti carbonara, it seemed a preferable option to gazing at the restaurant walls adorned with fading black and white photos of luminaries of the French silver screen of the 60s and 70s such as Alain Delon and Louis de Funès!

The disgruntled proprietor of the Hotel des Sites was the parenthesis of the previous evening’s  hotelier at La Bastide-de-Virac who’d exuded cheery bonhomie and treated me like a king. After I’d polished off my pasta and dessert, the proprietor couldn’t be bothered to enquire whether I’d enjoyed my meal or would like a coffee. Maybe he was just depressed and his business was going to hell in a handbasket! Who knows.

Thankfully the dog in the adjoining bedroom didn’t disturb my slumber and I emerged this morning refreshed for the challenges of the day ahead.

Breakfast at Les Sites proved an interesting affair. A dimunitive lightly tattood elflike young girl appeared with a small glass of orange juice and a mug of coffee before asking if I’d like a crêpe. Why not I thought to myself. To be fair breakfast wasn’t too bad – yoghurt and an entire baguette followed hard on the heels of the crêpe!

At this juncture it’s probably worth saying something about the Ardèche region through which I’m walking.

Famous as a centre of Protestant resistance during the 17th century French wars of religion, more recently the region is perhaps most well known for the Chauvet cave paintings just outside Pont Vallon d’Arc where in 1994 more than 300 prehistoric animal drawings – in shades of ochre, red and black – were found on its rocky walls. The cave paintings were completed 30,000 years ago and predate the paintings at Lascaux!

The volcanic ranges I crossed today are home to the source of the Loire river and the area was also home to the Montgolfier brothers who staged the world’s first manned balloon flight in Annonay in 1783.

The Ardèche is known in France as ‘chestnut country’, and, for many locals, this anonymous wintertime ingredient holds iconic status. This explains its prominence in so many dishes and the region’s position as France’s leading producer, cultivating 6,000 tonnes per year!

There is much more to the Ardèche’s cuisine than chestnuts, although its classic dishes are by no means cutting edge. Most have a rustic, peasant feel that reflects the region’s self-sufficiency. La bombine is a garlicky potato gratin served as an accompaniment to delicious red wine-based stews, which may contain pork or goat. Pâtés and hams are good in the Ardèche too, as are the creamy goat’s cheeses, the most famous of which is delicious Picodon. For dessert, much use is made of summer fruits, like bilberries and raspberries that grow copiously throughout the countryside.

The walk to Comps involved a two hour ascent up a steep mountain path which left me drenched in sweat. That was followed by a couple of hours of fairly desultory hiking on forest tracks which offered little in the way of views or wildlife. Maybe there was a very good reason why this section of the GR4 didn’t feature in any Topoguides!

Just before I reached Comps I passed another hiker on the GR4 – a girl in her 30s with a fully laden back pack and an emaciated greyhound like dog on a lead. I said hello and that was the beginning and end of the encounter. Perhaps our paths will cross over the next week or so!

Comps is a small hamlet in the back of beyond but it does boast an 8th century church dedicated to an obscure saint called Saint Prix or Saint Priest and a holiday complex which had a restaurant which served pizzas and cold beers!

It wasn’t a particularly arduous day but despite the overcast conditions it was still extremely muggy.

I was glad of the opportunity to put my feet up and relax in the gite without feeling as though I was treading on the toes of an obstreperous hotelier!