We elected a 19km walk that would start in La Bourbole (890m) and take in Puy Gros (1485m), Col de Guery (1268m, and apparently France's second-most photographed spot), Col de St Laurent (1450m) and then back to La Bourboule. Graded as "easy-moderate", we figured it would make for a pleasant day.
Not far into the trek the question was heard: why do all walks start with a big climb? It was certainly something to get the heart pumping and the calves thoroughly tested. The track wended its way uphill by pastures (featuring a different sort of calf) dazzlingly verdant in the bright sunlight and through an all-but abandoned hamlet with partly-ruined buildings. Just before entering a beech forest we spotted a local serpent - about the size of a whipsnake, it looked as active as the cows we've being seeing that loll around napping in the meadows.
The beech forest could have come straight out of Tolkien (Shire-like peacefulness), with occasional streams burbling down the hill.
Of course, we were still going uphill....and having occasional nervous moments as we searched for the next all-important red/white trail markers. For here's the thing about walking in France: there are many trails, and almost none of them are the right one. Thankfully, there are blazes to help you find your way. Alas, there are several different systems (red/white, yellow, orange, yellow spots) and you need to be certain which to follow at any given moment. More on that later....After an hour of solid uphill walking we emerged from the forest into clearer pastures.
An abundance of spring flowers were out - daffodils, irises, orchids, little pink & purple blooms that we don't recognise. 
Fences here are much flimsier, we reflected, than back home. Some look just like a single piece of string at about waist level - how do you control cows with that? Touch it and find out.....electrified fences here just aren't as obvious as ones we've seen before, but they pack an unwelcome zap....even the second time around, some of us just don't learn. A bit of dithering and another solid 40 minutes uphill got us to Puy Gros and the view was certainly worth the climb.
>From there it was a steep descent and some more cross-pasture walking. We'd been hoping to reach Lac du Guery in time to stop at the local auberge (inn) for lunch - otherwise it was dried fruit and chocolate. Spirits sank when faced with a sign saying 3km to go...and it was almost 1.30. Hope, they say, springs eternal and our stride quickened. We reached the auberge at 1.50, and were thankful to learn that "a little something" (un petit quelque-chose) would be OK as long as it wasn't too complicated. Nothing wrong with salted pork, boiled carrots and potatoes.....someone should open an auberge on the Tarn Shelf in Tasmania :-) Col de Guery wasn't far from the auberge and offered a terrific view over two volcanic pinnacles that flank the entrance to a calm valley.
At this point we changed trail blazes. That's okay, a change isn't so bad, the blazes we originally started following would have been a full week's walk. We stumped along in exposed highland pastures wondering if the Lake District in England, or some of Scotland, might look like this: flat, weather-blasted and worryingly short of shelter if the weather changed.
Darker clouds had been gathering for a while and we again picked up the pace, striding past whole meadows covered with wild daffodils. In view of the changing conditions we decided to skip an ascent from Col de St Laurent and keep pushing on to lower ground. We followed our orange markers down a goodly descent to a car park, passing a trio of elderly locals on the way down.
Often when you're intent on one thing you lose sight of another. This time it was the need to change markers again and descend in the absolute opposite direction. We consulted our map, looked unhappily back at what had been a pleasant descent but now loomed as an entirely unwelcome extra climb to higher ground....when the afore-mentioned trio arrived. By this time we'd been walking for around 5 hours...mostly uphill.
We've had many occasions to be grateful for Andrew's years of French studies at school (even if it was all more than twenty years ago), but this was a really good moment. No we weren't lost, we were able to say - we knew exactly where we were and didn't like it. We'd missed a path and needed to go back. The youngest (maybe 60-70) of the trio would have none of it. Where's your car? I will take you there. And with no fuss, and a little chivalry for Tracey (make sure you put a warm top on lest you catch cold; please sit in the front), off we went. A ten minute drive of great generosity that saved us a good 90 minutes more walking. Merci beaucoup pour votre secours monsieur, vous etes tres gentil (many thanks for your assistance sir, you are very kind).
Score
Tracey & Andrew: 1 (for the ascent and walk)
Mountains: 1 (for baffling us and making us lose our way)
French courtesy: 1
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