Mont St-Martin

If you travel west on the motorway from Antibes, past Cannes and Mandelieu, you come up against the technicolor obstacle of the Esterel. This is a massif or range of hills, the main peculiarity (apart from their almost cubist shape) being a wonderful shade of red, which sets itself off marvellously from the toothpaste blue of the Med and the dark green of the stunted trees of the maquis.

Today, we gave in, and headed for a walk in the Esterel, via the madness of Mandelieu traffic. It was worth it. Almost immediately we were in a lost world - clumps of dense vegetation following the rare watercourses, and bare rock, glowing with childishly primary pastel colours. The walking was tough, not just because of the steep climbs and descents, but also because this is August, and the sun is at its most powerful. We perspired as we aspired, but finally achieved the summit of Mont St-Martin, where we found, amidst the chaos of rocks and tangled undergrowth, a pre-Roman oppidum. Can't have been fun bringing water there, mind you, even if the view was sublimely spectacular. On the way, we disturbed an animal, which thrashed its way through the underbrush - a few seconds later, there was a grunt like something out of Jurassic Park. Had we disturbed the young of an escaped cochanglier, one of the dreaded, totally illegal hybrids between domestic pigs and wild boars, as fierce as the boar, but with the familiarity with humans of the pig? We'll never know, but it was a tense moment.