Sunday and Monday 15th and 16th September

Camping la Sorguette is our thirteenth campsite and probably has the edge on all the others so far. Wendy and Lesley had a very warm reception from Reception, which you would think should always be the case; but it isn’t.

The site is well laid out on the banks of the river Sorgue (well one of them any way, we’ll come to that later) with the pitches in groups of four, which makes a large site feel quite cosy. There is also access directly on to the river and a couple of water meadows along side it which made for great dog walks (another tick). Unfortunately there are perhaps too many scents for a spaniel to cope with? Bryn lost his ball by dropping it somewhere in the undergrowth when his hunting drive kicked in on a particularly good trail.

On the subject of dogs, I have been getting feedback from a number of my avid readers, that there is not enough Bryn related content in the ‘blog so far. I can only apologise and blame Bryn’s excellent behaviour. The boy has excelled himself so far. He has learned to dawdle alongside when we are mooching around towns and villages. He in turn, mooches around our pitch without needing to be on a lead when we are on site, and his manners when meeting other folk and their dogs has been impeccable. Sadly, good news doesn’t make for good copy, but I will try and include some more dog related stuff and the odd photo.

The guide books and internet are pretty dismissive of L’Isle-sur-la-Sorgue, but it is a charming town. It is built on an island between two branches of the river Sorgue and while it might not be ‘chocolate box pretty’, it has the added advantage of being a proper working town, it has authenticity. A heritage trail took us passed loads of restored waterwheels and the waterways have been enhanced further still by the recent addition of quirky statues.

The town is famous for its Antique and Brocante shops and on Sundays it has a market where there are extra Antique and Brocante stalls to tempt the unwary. Brocante is french for expensive old tat. Wendy was quite taken by it and found a stall that she wanted me to name this entry after – ‘Knobs and Knockers’ – but I didn’t!

An abiding memory will be having a beer in the town square while listening to a good saxophonist and singer playing jazz standards.

Unlike Gordes L’Isle-sur-la-Sorgue under-promises and over-delivers!

Monday morning saw us all crammed into a rickety minibus and driving eight kilometres to Fontaine de Vaucluse. We are going to canoe down the Sorgue to our campsite, two hours away by river. The Sorgue doesn’t seem to act like any other river I know. It rises just the other side of Fontaine de Vaucluse in the biggest spring in France (and fifth in the world). It is a karstic spring, in that the rainfall on the limestone plateau trickles down through the rock to form a subterranean river that bursts out at the foot of a cliff face as a fully fledged river. It then flows for a few miles before it begins to split up into smaller versions of itself, some of which then join up again. I can’t find any explanation as to why it does this, do any geographers out there know?

We made the canoeing easy for ourselves by leaving Bryn in the van. Last year when we were canoeing with him in Normandy he was very well behaved, even after being washed out of the canoe, but Wendy felt he wouldn’t enjoy it very much. Enzo, on the other hand, loved it! He lay in the middle of Andy and Lesley’s canoe the whole way, apart from being allowed out for a swim half way down.

Once the Sorgue was heavily industrialised. The water wheels in the town bear witness to that, powering woollen and silk mills, established by royal decree in the early 1800s. Our route this morning involved crossing three weirs created to power mills above l’Isle.

Just after setting out we passed under an elegant aqueduct, built in the 19th century to carry a canal across the river, then we came to the first weir. We were surprised by our guide (The Sorgue is the only privately managed river in France and as part of the management of the river, every canoe trip has to have an approved guide with them to ensure we all behave appropriately.) jumping out of his canoe and opening up a small gate to one side of the weir. He then beckoned us through. The gate led to a wooden chute that sent us hurtling down into the water below, flooding the canoes as had happened to us on the l’ Orne. Bryn would have been swept out again. Enzo sitting in the middle was fine as Lesley bravely shielded him. We had a couple of Americans in our group and the woman in the front of their canoe was washed out, with a heck of a scream as she met the 13° C water. She moaned and shivered (inappropriately dressed!) her way to the next weir, which was even steeper and again she got wet and boy did we know about it. Our guide took pity on her and instead of shooting the final weir we took a side stream of rapids around it.

Before we knew it we arrived at the “Partage des Eaux” or the “Parting of the Waters”. As the name suggests here the river divides again, but this time it is no accident. A parallel weir splits the Sorgue in two following a decree by Napoléon III on the 27th March 1852. It even specified that 5/12 of the water should flow one way and 7/12 the other. It is a fascinating sight and engineering feat, that now looks almost natural.

This marked the end of our trip and was right by our campsite. So we were able to say goodbye to our guide and the Americans, as they left in the minibus, and it was only a short walk to a warm shower.