CASTLES IN THE SKY
The French Pyrenees are packed with amazing roads, beautiful villages and staggering views, including these incredible reminders of past glories
IDIDN’T BELIEVE anything could make the Pyrenees look more dramatic. What could be better than a towering grey mountain framed by a cloudless blue sky and a curl of inviting tarmac? Then I rounded a corner to see the castle, perched atop a peak, seemingly growing out of the living rock like something from a particularly dark fantasy tale. Amazing…
I had to find out more. I turned off the route I was following, glancing up and over my shoulder, turning this way and that as I tried to get to the castle. I had no idea how anyone had managed to build it up there, when every angle I could see from the road had it erupting from a sheer cliff face.
Finally, I saw a sign bearing the word “Chateau” and followed it on a narrow road that went round and up, and up, and up, until I reached a gravel car park beneath towering stone walls. I got off the bike, removed my helmet… and spotted another castle, frowning at me from a peak on the other side of the valley.
MOUNTAIN ROADS
I’m not much of a history buff – nostalgia’s so last year, after all – but something about these Pyrenean castles captured my imagination. When I got home from that trip, I began reading up on them and discovered the whole region was peppered with fortresses. I’d found myself in front of the Chateau de Peyrepertuse, looking across to the Chateau de Quéribus, but there were dozens more to discover.
Except, it took several years to organise a return trip to visit the castles properly. I always seemed to be rushing through the Pyrenees, without the time to turn off whatever route I was following to explore the narrow tracks leading up to the lofty citadels. As for actually having an hour to spare for getting off the bike to explore the castles… forget it.
Now I’m back specifically to visit the castles. I’m starting in Foix, which is dominated by a massive three-towered chateau that rises on a hill in the centre of the town. Finding the way in is a challenge, threading through the narrow streets of the town centre looking for tiny signs. I realise I probably should have parked and walked from further away, but I sneak the Triumph Explorer in beside some residents’ cars and start the climb. It’s not too steep and the castle itself is well preserved, with amazing views out over the town.
But I’m not just here to look at castles. I am also here to ride some of Europe’s most beautiful mountain roads. From Foix I take one of the smoothest and most relaxed, the D117 which winds out towards Lavelanet. Before reaching the town, though, I jink away into the hills on the D9, headed for Montségur.
This is one of the most important of the historic sites in the region – and the one with the most mystical reputation. It was the final stronghold of the Cathar sect, rumoured to house their great treasure (possibly even the Holy Grail). Montségur was taken by siege at the climax of the crusade against the Cathars, their castle ripped apart stone by stone, but the ruins of a later fortification still attract pilgrims – including me.
I’ve never been here before so don’t quite know what to expect and my first sight of the castle almost ends in disaster. I’m coming round a relatively gentle right-hander when I spot it, balanced atop a huge isolated outcrop of grey rock. I stare at it for a second too long, until the blaring horn of an oncoming Dutch camper van (why are they always Dutch?) warns me that I’ve strayed across the white line into his lane. I swerve back to safety then, shaken, continue to the castle.
To say it’s a hike from the car park at the foot of the hill to the citadel is selling it short. I’m not a hillwalker, so I’m sticking with my bike boots but frankly this is a mistake. They’re good for walking in, as bike boots go… but I should have packed some better boots to change into for this long, hot, steep climb.
The castle itself is impressive in a sparse-ruins kind of way, but what makes it worth the effort of getting up there are the views of the valley and the mountains. They’re simply breathtaking – or would be if I wasn’t still panting after the climb. I’ve brought my own lunch with me from Foix, so I find a shady corner of the ruined courtyard where I can sit to eat it.
REAL RIDING
The real riding begins when I catch my breath and get back on the bike below the chateau. The road drops in a series of hairpins, passing the village of Montségur. Before the D9 can rejoin the D117 I’m turning off, into the woods, heading south-east into the high hills again.
Fragrant pines press close until the road descends to more manicured farmland. The D613 offers everything from long straights to flowing fourth-gear corners to stacks of broad switchbacks as it heads to Ax-lesthermes. I don’t go into the town, though. Instead I turn onto one of the best roads I’ve ridden in ages – and all the better for being unexpected.
Somehow I’ve never ridden the Col de Pailhères before. I must have been mad to pass it by. It’s quiet, scenic, has a decent surface – and it has corners. Boy does it have corners! There’s an initial steep run of hairpins, like a mini Stelvio Pass. Then, after a short section of straights and sweepers, there’s the most glorious riot of tangled tarmac as the road drops from the 2001m pass. It’s a truly fantastic ride.
Through the village of Rouze, another castle rears above the road. I start more or less at eye level with it, but six hairpins later I’m craning my neck to look up to it above the trees. I park beside a burbling river and set off to investigate Chateau d’usson. My timing’s good, as it’s only just opening after lunch (at 3pm – this is France.) It’s a smaller castle, with some building work going on when I’m there, so it’s quite a quick visit.
After Chateau d’usson the great riding continues. Not over a pass, but through a long gorge beside the River Aude. It’s tight, twisty, challenging – at one point I get stuck behind another Dutch camper (see, they’re always Dutch) and it takes a couple of miles before I find a safe overtake. Then I’m back on the D117, heading to Lavagnac and one more castle.
Chateau Puilaurens is perched on a cliff high above the village, appearing and disappearing behind the trees like the interesting bits in a fan dance as I ride along the bumpy, narrow road to reach it. The walk from the ticket office is easily managed and then I’m into one of the greatest castles of the region. It’s spectacular and even though the views can’t top the ones from Montségur, Puilaurens is my highlight of the day.
THE SONS OF CARCASSONNE
My second day in Cathar country begins not with a castle but with another gorge – one recommended by a RIDE reader. The Gorges de Galamus are spectacularly narrow, the road carved into the rock high above a river (actually, the Aude again). It’s not a road to ride fast, especially as there are plenty of sightseers walking along it, but it is an amazing way to start the day.
It’s also a good preparation for the way the roads are changing as I head further east. There are some broad, smooth roads here – but increasingly I find my route demands stretches on narrower, slightly bumpier back lanes as I wind through the hills to Carcassonne.
But first, there are castles to visit. Next on my list is a return to Peyrepertuse, followed by a detour to
finally explore Chateau de Quéribus. These two, along with Puilaurens, Chateau d’aguilar and Chateau de Termes are known as the Sons of Carcassonne. My aim is to get round them all today.
Which should be easy, if I could only find Chateau d’aguilar. Foolishly, I hadn’t set my sat nav route to go right there – I knew it was a detour outside the village of Tuchan, so I’d assumed it would be easy to follow signs from there to find it. Not so. I waste the best part of 40 minutes blundering through the Corbières countryside, riding past the turning and the one small sign that could have led me straight there.
After that I have to pick up the pace, but this is good riding – more foothill than mountain, with roads writhing around the contours and keeping a big grin on my face. Every now and then the scrubby trees that crowd the verges part to give longer views out across rumpled countryside – and that’s when I get my first glimpse of Termes, the next chateau, crowning a distant hill. Knowing I’m getting close makes the serpentine descent to the village even more satisfying.
It’s another reasonable walk from the parking area in Termes to the chateau, but at least it’s not too steep. The drops from the top as I explore the castle all seem pretty dramatic, though. I might be getting castled-out by this time, as I’m uncomfortably aware of time ticking on. I don’t linger too long in the chateau before heading back to the bike as there’s still a fair way to go before I get to Carcasonne.
Luckily, as if to help me complete my ride in a sensible timeframe, the roads begin to broaden. Some are still bumpy but, passing the pocket-sized Chateau de Durfort, I finally see the sat nav’s arrival-time estimate begin to fall. Turning onto the D3 is like having all my Christmas presents at once: immaculate surface, sweeping turns and increasingly long straights that help me make up time all the way to my hotel.
Even after two days visiting castles, the medieval citadel of Carcassonne is mind-blowing. It’s huge, it’s vibrant, it’s well preserved and it’s bustling with life. The hotels inside the walls are outside my budget, but I walk up and spend the evening there – grabbing a meal and exploring the cobbled streets. It’s the crowning moment of an incredible trip.