gorges

We’re sipping chestnut kir on a terrace overlooking the Tarn River in southern France when we hear excited voices from the table beside us: “Regards! C’est un castor!” Below us, a beaver the length of my leg is languidly swimming upstream. We don’t need our binoculars because the Tarn is so clean that almost every fish, frog, pebble and ribbon of weed can be seen with the naked eye, magnified by the clarity of the water. This meandering, jade-green river – which winds from its source in the Cévennes national park to Moissac, just north of Toulouse – is home to trout, perch, carp, otters, frogs, toads, kingfishers and herons. We add “beavers” to our list.

Above us, huge vultures have been drifting all day, cruising the thermals in groups of nine or 10. And when our eyes haven’t been on the river or the sky, they have been welded to the many orchids on the bank: including monkey, bee, military, butterfly, pyramidal and fragrant orchids. Later, we discover that 30 varieties have been recorded in this orchid hotspot.

Enticed by the cooler microclimate provided by the double whammy of a river and a deep gorge, we’re walking a five-day section of one of France’s newest long-distance hiking routes (April, May, early June and late September are among the best times to tackle it). The 300km GR736 officially opened in 2023 and runs from the Tarn’s source to the city of Albi. Three days of the route run directly through the Gorges du Tarn, Europe’s longest and most dramatic canyon, a 33-mile (53km) limestone gully of rock formations and towering cliffs that often rise 500 metres above the river. The gorge is also home to more than 3,000 vultures, as well as cuckoos, nightingales, red-billed choughs and owls.

Besides exceptional wildlife, a succession of medieval towns, abandoned hamlets, deserted churches, ruined castles, crumbling terraces and jaw-dropping architectural oddities are dotted along the gorge. Most must be reached on foot, via “balcon” paths often dizzyingly (albeit safely) whittled from the gorge itself.

Our walk begins in Le Pont-de-Montvert, a bustling historic town amid the expansive heathery uplands of Mont Lozère, from where the Tarn springs. For two days we traverse an unpeopled, wind-blown wilderness of menhirs, boulders, broom and heather, before descending to wildflower meadows and forests of beech and pine. We walk about 10 to 15 miles a day, unimpeded by bulky backpacks as our luggage is transported in a minivan that arrives promptly at 9am every morning.

It’s only as we descend into the gorge on day three that we begin to encounter a myriad of human-made curiosities. The first is Castelbouc, a semi-troglodytic hamlet of narrow, cobbled streets, watched over by the remnants of a castle balanced on a vertiginous spur.

From here, we briefly cross the gorge to Sainte-Enimie, one of France’s celebrated “plus beaux villages” (its steep cobbled streets are lined with honey-coloured houses hung with pink roses), which is thriving thanks to the road that winds along the gorge’s right bank. Then it’s back to the left bank with its single-file footpath and cooling canopy of chestnut trees. We stop for the night in the restored village of Saint-Chély-du-Tarn, which has an original village bread oven, waterwheel, 12th-century church and miniature chapel carved into the rock. We dine at Auberge de la Cascade (the only place to eat in the village), feasting on Tarn-caught trout and ice-cream made from the local châtaigne, a small sweet chestnut and essential ingredient in the region’s most delicious aperitif, kir à la châtaigne – white wine with a dash of chestnut liqueur.

The following day’s gorge walk feels weirdly Jurassic, thanks to the sulphurous-yellow rocks, thickly mossed tree trunks and enormous ferns. At the hamlet of Hauterives, we spot a rigged cable-and-basket for hoisting goods over the river: someone appears to be living in this isolated spot. A couple of miles of ascending and descending brings us to the waterside town of La Malène, where we relax in a flat-bottomed boat while a professional batelier (boatman), Clément, punts us four miles downriver, pointing out the beaver families that inhabit every half-mile of riverbank, and four varieties of resident vulture (griffon, black, bearded and Egyptian), whose young will fledge throughout the summer.

Clément puts us ashore at Cirque des Baumes, where we scramble up the almost sheer bank using a series of ropes – an exhilarating experience. Here, we encounter yet another hauntingly abandoned village where miniature houses perch – precariously and mind-bogglingly – on limestone plinths. Signs of life (washing on a line) suggest that someone also lives in this ghost village – without electricity, gas or mains water.

We stroll on, past miles of neglected retaining walls, which once held terraced orchards of cherry and chestnut trees; now, the place is home to deer, boar, pine martens and muskrats. After a cooling dip in the river, we walk to Les Vignes and our charming hotel, Le Parisien – pink-and-white striped walls, vintage framed photographs, antique brass beds. The chef, Amélie, tells us that she hopes the new GR736 will bring more people to the area, providing new life for these dying villages.

On our final day, the gorge slowly unfolds and flattens, opening out into a verdant valley of twisted triffid-like trees draped in luxurious moss, and glistening banks of black volcanic stone spill across our path. We follow the river to its confluence with the Jonte and spend our last evening in Peyreleau (designated “une petite cité de caractère”), strolling ancient cobbled streets and exploring medieval churches and towers with far-flung views. From the terrace of Hôtel Doussière, we watch swallows and swifts skimming the river below, and agree that Robert Louis Stevenson was right when he wrote: “If the garden of Eden exists, it’s in the valley of the Tarn …”

Annabel travelled independently. On Foot Holidays offers a week-long, self-guided trip with baggage-carrying service from £1,245pp. More information at gr-infos.com

Annabel is the author of The Walking Cure, published by Bloomsbury Tonic (£10.99). To support the Guardian buy a copy at guardianbookshop.com. Delivery charges may apply

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The watchmakers’ railway in France and Switzerland

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Amy

Up here, the river was a mere gurgle; a babbling babe finding its way into the world. A few sheep roamed, a kite wheeled and a spring-clean wind ruffled the tussocks on the barren hills and rippled the pools. It was a stark yet striking beginning. As we followed a brand new fingerpost, skirted Llyn Teifi – the river’s official source – and picked up the fledgling flow, there was a sense great things lay ahead, for us both.

The Teifi rises in Ceredigion’s Cambrian Mountains – the untramped “green desert of Wales” – and pours into Cardigan Bay 75 miles (120km) south-west. It’s one of the longest rivers wholly within Wales and, historically, one of its most significant: the beating heart of the country’s fishing and wool-weaving industries, 12th-century abbeys at either end, Wales’s oldest university en route.

However, those abbeys lie in ruin now, salmon and sewin (brown trout) stocks have plummeted, and the mills are shuttered – though the factory in the village of Dre-fach Felindre now operates as the National Wool Museum. Even the future of Lampeter’s venerable university is uncertain following the decision to end undergraduate teaching there. It’s as if the valley has lost its purpose. So some determined local walkers are giving it a new one.

The Teifi Valley Trail, an 83-mile hike following the river from source to sea, officially launched on 25 April, but has been decades in the making. The idea was born back when Ceredigion, Pembrokeshire and Carmarthenshire came under one authority (Dyfed), said Kay Davis of the Teifi Valley Trail Association (TVTA), when we met in Llanybydder. “Then the three counties separated in 1996 and it went off the boil. A long time later, we thought, wouldn’t it be great if there was a trail? So we got together with others in the area and went from there.”

It has been a grassroots, cooperative effort between members of local Ramblers groups, Walkers are Welcome communities and footpath associations along the valley, working to reopen paths, secure permissions, nail up waymarks and create a guide. Thought has been given to route quality, places to stay and accessibility by public transport.

“One of the main reasons for the trail is to get people with backpacks and boots down here to spend money,” added the TVTA’s James Williams. “We’ve seen the economic effect the coastal paths have; we thought we could have a bit of that as well.” Backpacked and booted, my husband and I were here to give it a go.

There’s certainly something powerful about following a river. Walking from Teifi Pools on our first day, that trickle led us across the moor and through wild, wooded valleys or cwms with the exuberance of youth. It soon took us to Strata Florida, the abbey founded in 1164 by Cistercian monks seeking solitude in nature – not to mention access to the area’s abundant timber, pasture, peat, lead ore and, of course, water. Little remains of the abbey now – a grand arch, some fine medieval tiles, a cottage housing a small but fascinating exhibition. But this was once the Westminster Abbey of Wales, second only in fame to St Davids and much larger than the ruins suggest. Many pilgrims made the journey here.

Most have probably never heard of Strata Florida, and the Teifi Valley continued in this vein: a place of secrets and little-heard stories. These ranged from a buried elephant (behind Tregaron’s handsome Y Talbot Hotel, allegedly) to dry-stone walls built by Napoleonic prisoners of war. Llanddewi Brefi village was full of tales. On the old mountain-crossing drovers’ route, it has a soaring Norman church built on a mound said to have been miraculously raised by St David himself. These days, Llanddewi is better known as the scene of an enormous LSD drugs raid in 1977 or as the home of Little Britain’s “only gay in the village”. “Most here didn’t watch the show, and I didn’t mind it,” said Yvonne Edwards, landlady of Llanddewi’s New Inn, a proper no-frills-and-flagstones pub. “It was just annoying, having Australian journalists ringing in the middle of the night, and people stealing road signs.”

Further down the trail, just outside Llanybydder, we found one of Davis’s hidden gems: a woodland path, long unused, that her Ramblers group worked hard to reopen. “It’s tiny,” she’d told us, “but there’s a presence there, a good presence.” Indeed, it was like a shot of Narnia, a short stretch of moss-covered magic.

Over the following days, we flirted with the river. At times we were high above, peering from gorse-covered hill forts, across slopes of sheep-grazed green or through woods flush with bluebells. At others, we were on its banks, once close enough to glimpse an otter raise its silken head in the swirl. Beyond Llechryd, the path squeezed us through a tree-huddled gorge, the river’s murmurings joined by the gossip of thrushes, tits, blackcaps and wrens.

The general mood was soothing. It was hard to imagine this river roisterous with industry, fizzing with fish, busy with boats – Cardigan, within the Teifi’s tidal reach, was once the second-largest port in Wales. It’s a quieter town these days, and looking good, boosted by the restoration of its castle, which was rescued from ruin a decade ago. The castle hosted the first National Eisteddfod in 1176; in celebration of the 850th anniversary, the 2026 festival is being held at nearby Llantwd.

We stayed in one of the castle’s refined rooms, but still had a few miles to go to reach journey’s end. The trail runs via St Dogmael’s Abbey and climbs high for views across the estuary before dropping to meet it at sweeping Poppit Sands. We washed our boots in the shallows, “our” river now indiscernible, swallowed by the sea.

It was a good walk. And perhaps it wasn’t over? “Early on, we had this idea to create the Celtic Circle,” Davis told me: a 175-mile loop linking the Teifi Valley Trail, a section of Wales Coast Path to Borth, and the Spirit of the Miners route from Borth to Strata Florida. “But we’ll see if we still have the energy after this!”

The trip was supported by Discover Ceredigion, Discover Carmarthenshire and Visit Pembrokeshire. For information, downloadable maps and guidebooks, see the Teifi Valley Trail website. Accommodation includes Y Talbot in Tregaron (doubles from £70), the New Inn in Llanddewi Brefi (doubles from £76), the Cross Hands Hotel in Llanybydder (doubles from £108), Emlyn Hotel in Newcastle Emlyn (doubles from £79) and Cardigan Castle (doubles from £110)