Starting with a long ascent up bumpy roads, mostly pushing for two hot hours, the sheep don’t want their picture taken. I do not see a living soul for 4 hours.Aubrac, the cattle of Aveyron.This is the last ascent up a big hill, so I take a nostalgic photo of a switchback lane.Looking back at the mountains, the dry breeze here smelling strongly of minty thyme.There’s the valley that leads to the plain that leads to the coast. Olive plantations down below.Clermont L’Herault is another busy dusty town, cars everywhere. The town is actually one large car park, with a few houses squeezed in between. I buy an indulgent dinner to console myself for this unwonted return to civilisation. Roasted foie gras with pears and vanilla sauce.
