Southern France - Verdon Gorge: In the maelstrom of nothingness

In the morning, fog hangs over the meadows surrounding the village of La Palud . The damp plain at a good 1,000 meters above sea level releases dew into a clear sky, heralding a beautiful day. Despite the proximity to the Côte d'Azur, it's cool in Haute-Provence, the hinterland of Nice. The sun rises, and we follow suit, at least getting out of bed and on our morning walk to the bakery and Joe's little café in the village square.

These are leisurely mornings here in La Palud-sur-Verdon. In the 1980s, the place was considered a European climbing hotspot. While in the late 1960s, it was seasoned alpinists like François Guillot who started first ascents like La Demande from the gorge floor and followed logical crack systems all the way up, in the 1970s, sport-oriented climbers arrived and began setting up routes in a way that would become groundbreaking. Instead of searching for a way up the walls from below, they abseiled from the gorge rim and began setting up belays with the help of bolts in otherwise inaccessible sections of the wall.

To the horror of the elderly, the first routes, such as Dingomaniaque in 1978, were drilled from above, and the decline of mountaineering also took hold in southern France. And the style caught on. Professional explorers like the Rémy brothers began to discover the "poor man's Yosemite," as Claude Rémy once somewhat disrespectfully called the up to 700-meter-deep, 25-kilometer-long gorge between Lac de Sainte-Croix in the west and Castellane in the east. They systematically devoted themselves first to the steepest and most imposing cliffs of the gorge, which collectively bear the name "L'Escalès" and, between the viewpoints of the Belvédère de Trescaïre Haut and the Belvédère de l'Escalès, are home to many sectors that are still symbolically associated with the Verdon Gorge today. The Rémys also generally started from the top and descended their routes only as far as the rock quality allowed. In keeping with the emerging spirit of sport climbing, they no longer developed routes via mobile wall structures, such as cracks or corners, but instead followed the best rock.

Access from above has remained standard to this day. We've regained our strength after breakfast under the large plane tree, and so has the sun. From La Palud, a short drive east takes us up to the Route des Crêtes and to the parking lot of the most famous viewpoint, the Belvédère de la Carelle, the starting point for many classic routes. and also our route today. Tourists lean curiously against the railings with their cameras. Most are on the lookout for the griffon vultures, which fly within a few meters of us here. We pack our things and put the half ropes on our backs. Most of our things fit on the harness.

Wearing flip-flops, we cross the road to the Rêve de Fer abseil station (6b+, 130 m). The ropes are clipped in, but the flip-flops can stay up there; we won't need them here anymore. Before abseiling, we check everything again: helmet, harness, climbing shoes, water, windbreaker, and small medkit. The quickdraws and three small friends as backup. The harness is fastened, the Prusik is in place, and the tube is properly inserted. "Are the knots in the end of the rope done?" "Yes, they're done." - "Perfect. Well then, have fun. See you soon." The first abseil of the day. Who doesn't have your heart stop for a moment here? The step into the void, out into a seemingly endless wall, 300 meters below, because: no lanyard, no tree, no ledge disturbs the pull of nothingness here.

But just stay calm. That's why we came. For the air beneath our feet, which is good for the soul. We want to get down there, if only so we can climb back up again. Sure, that's absurd. But we're not looking for meaning here, we're looking for engagement: with the rock, with the exposure, with ourselves. Up until the first abseil station on the wall, it remains a safe bet; after all, our rope is still hanging at street level. Only after we've pulled it off does the adventure begin. Because now we have to climb out again; up is the only direction now.

Many of the routes begin somewhere in the middle of the wall and do not lead to the gorge floor. Often there is no abseiling option all the way to the bottom. And even if there were, it would be a long trek in climbing shoes. We breathe deeply but calmly, do a quick partner check, give a high five, and then start the first movement, which is always a little too hasty, too hectic, as concentration first has to assert itself against the mixture of happiness and restlessness. With every breath, greater calm sets in, and attention is focused on the small area in and around us. Yesterday and tomorrow no longer exist; the present begins. The movements become more fluid; the rock dictates them, but the creative and energy-saving execution is up to the individual. When things get exciting, climbing ceases to be a mere movement in nature.

Breathe, breathe, control your emotions and thoughts, organize your hands, plant your foot... and up there! It's not the ecstatic, intoxicating happiness that comes with finishing a sport climbing project. It's not a scream of joy, nothing indefinite that must break through when the last belay is clipped and the partner is brought up one last time. It's a quiet happiness that works subliminally, that goes deep and takes root. A happiness that stays with you for a long time.

The intense experience of classic routes is best approached in stages. While the Verdon is known for its serious style, many routes have been developed in recent years that require far less effort, are more densely protected, and can sometimes even be accessed from below. At the height of the Chalet de la Maline, for example, a good footpath leads down to the gorge floor and the Moyen Eycharme sector. The routes Free Tibet (6a, 100 m) and Redressement Discal (6b, 100 m) are an excellent introduction to Verdon-style climbing.

The Adieu Zidane sector offers a great atmosphere with moderate grades and dense bolt placement, leading directly over the gorge exit and Lac de St. Croix. The Verdon shimmers turquoise beneath your climbing shoes, and tourists paddle across the lake in colorful boats.

The routes Adieu Zidane (6a, 100 m) and Hissage Nocturne (6a+, 100 m) offer holiday climbing par excellence. Those seeking the classic Verdon feeling, but also plenty of bolts and common difficulty levels, will find what they're looking for in the classic Dalles Grises sector. From the Belvédère de la Carelle, it's only a few minutes to the comfortable abseil stations above the slabs riddled with cracks and holes. Four abseils bring you down into the Jardin des Écureuils, a small forest in the middle of the wall.

From there, there are many options for climbing back out – and almost all of them are worthwhile. From popular routes like Chlorochose (5c, 150 m) or Dalles Grises (5c, 150 m) to more ambitious lines like À Tout Coeur (6b+, 150 m) and classics like Dingomaniaque (6c+, 150 m) or the upper half of Pichenibule (6c+/A0 (7c), 200 m).

In the evening, we're back in La Palud, this time at Lou's, whose bar has been a meeting place for climbers since the 80s. Here, the day's adventures are shared, solo travelers form rope teams, topos for new routes are shared, and old canyon tales are recounted. There's not much going on on this October evening. Europe's climbing hotspots have moved on, the scene has moved on, and multi-pitch routes are no longer as popular. Many of Lou's guests know each other. And if you're new and still a bit shy, you're quickly introduced to the group.

We're approached from the next table: "So, what did you do today?" "Rêve de Fer. Pretty exposed." "Ah, that was you. We saw you abseiling. Yes, Rêve is one of the great classics. We were on Les deux doigts dans le nez. It's supposed to be 6a+, pretty tough for that grade..." And so on. It's a cozy get-together; after all, everyone here has the same goal tomorrow: adventure climbing. Perhaps it's precisely this quiet happiness that still makes La Palud and the Verdon a worthwhile destination for anyone seeking that combination that can hardly be found anywhere else: adventure combined with outward comfort.

How to get there: By car from Germany, it's best to drive through Switzerland (vignette approx. CHF 40) to Geneva, then via Grenoble and Sisteron to Manosque. Then it's about an 80-minute drive on the country road via Moustiers-Sainte-Marie to La Palud. For a standard car, expect to pay tolls on French motorways at around €35. Driving the entire French route on country roads saves the toll, but adds two to three hours to the journey. By public transport: It's possible to take the train to Aix-en-Provence and then a bus to Riez (35 km from La Palud). A bus, line 450, runs at least twice a day between Riez and Castellane, and also stops in La Palud; more frequently during peak season. However, if you're staying in La Palud, the starting points of the routes are only reachable by a very long walk (1.5 to 2.5 hours). By bike (available to rent in La Palud from April to October), you reach the upper edge of the gorge after six kilometers and 200 meters of elevation gain.

Best time: Between the end of March and June, and September to November. Most sectors face south, and it gets too hot in midsummer.

• The Camping Municipal – Le Grand Canyon is open from April to October and is located 800 m from the center of La Palud.
• Also in La Palud: Camping Bourbone , April to October.
• Le Perroquet Vert , the climbing hostel in La Palud, from the end of March to mid-November.
• Gîte l'Arc-en-Ciel ; Place de l'église with restaurant, end of March to mid-November.

Bars & Restaurants: Lou Cafetié, open daily from 8 a.m. to midnight, has been THE meeting place for climbers since the 1980s. This is where rope teams meet and exchange information. Chez Joe, open daily from 6 a.m. to 9:30 p.m. (except Tuesday), serves breakfast, snacks, and burgers in La Palud. La Capanna, a small pizzeria in a trailer on La Palud's central square. Excellent and creative pizza at a fair price.

Climbing Guide: Le Verdon 2022 (in French) is the most comprehensive climbing guide for the gorge. It includes over 400 pages of most of the routes on the left side of the gorge, as well as selected sections of the right side. Available throughout the village. Verdon Inte'Graal, French/English, 500-page selection of climbing guides by Verdon caretaker Bruno Clément. Not always perfectly illustrated, but with brief descriptions of the individual routes. For information beyond the climbing guides, camptocamp.org is a good resource. Most routes are described very precisely there.

Equipment: Standard equipment for bolted multi-pitch routes, 60-m half ropes, possibly a set of small friends to improve some bolt spacing (BD C4 0.3 to 0.5. A very small Totem 0.5 also works well).