Donkey trekking, Mercantour National Park, France

>  For contact details, availability and booking, see greentraveller's full listing of Mercantour self-guided walking holidays

It was my six year old, Hugo’s, idea of hell. Walking for a week over mountains. Ski down them, maybe, but walking, non merci. Even as I packed walking boots, blister plasters and water bottles he just looked at me with total disbelief. Living out some sort of Von Trapp family fantasy of us all walking hand in hand across Alpine meadows might have been enough for me, but this little fella was going to need a little more persuading. My first secret ingredient: A donkey. Its job was to carry our bags from ‘gite to gite’ and Hugo’s job was to look after it. Bingo, a smile leapt over his face and we all headed for the train.

Villeplane, in the ‘Alpes Maritimes’ region of France, on the outskirts of the Mercantour National Park. After taking the sleeper train to Nice (second secret ingredient and big hit with kids) our instructions were to find our way to Entrevaux, about 60kms north of the city. After a quick dip in the Med to wake us up, we headed to a smaller station, to take the quaint one metre gauge train up through the Var valley. We were met by Christine Kieffer, who runs Itinerance trekking company, with her husband and sons. She drove us further up the mountains to meet the donkey and show us our bed for the night. Third ingredient: the most stunning Mongolian yurt I have ever seen, painted in traditional colours, nestled at the bottom of a wildflower meadow. The boys went screaming down the hill to explore, a veritable Von Trapp moment. 

The Kieffers are expert mountain guides. They are also conservationists who not only love the Alps, but also passionate about introducing them to children. “The future of the Alps is theirs”, Christine told me “so we need to show them how to protect them”. That is why they have created such genuinely family-friendly holidays. By becoming expert donkey breeders, families can take off for a week at a time, following detailed itineraries over mountains, along rivers and around lakes, their sole aim to find their next bed for the night. And the donkeys do the trick, because as well as being practical mountain animals, children just love them.

The next morning, after a brilliant night’s sleep in the yurt from heaven, we met our donkey, a Provencale breed, called Iznogoud, named after a famous French cartoon character, and pronounced as in English, Isnogood. He looked pretty good to us, though, and the boys were already hugging him like a long lost friend. We were all trained in OS map reading, mountain
 safety, donkey loading, and the children were given strict instructions on how to lead the donkey, care for him, and make him part of the family for the week. Not only does this teach the children (and us) so much, it also encourages them along the tougher uphill stretches. And there were to be some tough ones. “How many kilometres a day?” I asked Christine, “We don’t talk in kilometres in the mountains, just ascents and descents”. And, as we took on our first big climb, just a couple of hours later, the boys encouraging the donkey up one of the steepest slopes we were going to tackle during the trip, I must admit I was the one now wondering if a week of nothing but walking and talking was going to make or break us.

But Christine also had a secret ingredient for the adults. Food. From Day One we knew we were in safe hands, as we stopped for lunch near a gushing glacial river. As instructed, we unloaded the donkey so that he too could rest, to reveal our picnic full of couscous salad, olives, home made bread, salami, local cheeses, fruit and chocolate. Not a ham baguette in sight. And that was only the start of it. In Sauze, our first port of call for the night, we stayed at the basic village ‘auberge’ in a hostel-style family room, yet ate like kings. Vast platter of charcuterie, followed by baked rabbit, homemade ravioli, stuffed with pumpkin and wild spinach, with mountain of crepes and homemade compotes to finish off the banquet. Even children who are picky about their food wouldn’t complain. Ravenous after walking all day, our boys were suddenly transformed into ‘mountain men’, and ate every morsel put in front of them.

The next few days our Iznogoud led us diligently around the neighbouring valleys, walking between six to eight hours a day, depending on our mood. I say this with just a little pride, as we are city dwellers, who don't hike as a hobby normally. We love a walk on the beach as much as anyone else, but this was new territory for us. From Sauze we walked across two valleys to Bouchanières, during which the terrain seemed to change every twenty minutes. One minute we were sauntering across lush meadows, and then suddenly the path changed direction into sprawling Larch-filled woodland. It sometimes felt as if our moods varied as much as the landscape. On dry, dusty and exposed inclines we fell into a silent determination, concentrating on pushing ahead. Then we would be soothed by shady forest, with a soft pine-needle floor, which brought the spring back into our steps.

At the end of each day, the hospitality was simply superb. The ritual was always the same. Our hosts, usually family gite owners, showed us the donkey’s field for the night, then our room, gave us time to shower, and then welcomed us more formally with an aperitif before yet another gourmet dinner. The next morning each family seemed to compete for the best possible picnic, with the small hotelier in Peone looking as if he had just raided the best organic farmers’ market you can imagine when he proudly handed us our cool bags brimming with local goodies upon departure.

This holiday confounded all expectations for me. It was much tougher than we had expected, and yet we all rose to the occasion in our own ways, and pushed ourselves beyond limits we had never really set ourselves as a family before. The boys threw themselves up the mountains with gutso I never knew they had and chatted with the families, whose arms we fell into every night, with an infectious enthusiasm about the stunning landscape we had just traversed. On the way home, I asked Hugo what he thought about it all. “Every day was like a treasure hunt but without the treasure”. The train soon rocked this exhausted, sun-kissed and ‘just-a-bit-proud-of-himself’ little boy to sleep. A few minutes later he whispered, “Mum, I miss Iznogoud”. There’s the treasure, I thought.

Top Tip
Spend a night in Nice on the way home instead of taking the night train back. A swim in the Mediterranean is a must and, if it is too choppy, the Novotel Hotel has a fantastic pool on the roof, and great family rates. Just a couple of stops on the tram from the main station, then take direct daytime train back to UK via Lille.

Verdict
Amazing experience with carefully thought out itinerary, prepared by people who really care about showing you the best of the mountains. But this is not just a walk in the park. The walks are challenging, but we cityfolk made it, and were over the moon to have achieved it. Itinerance also run a wild camping holiday for families holiday, so we are definitely going back to the Kieffers for that one.

Getting there
Take the Eurostar from London to Paris Gare du Nord, and then transfer to Gare d’Austerlitz for the night train to Nice. Or to travel by day, take the Eurostar to Lille, and transfer directly onto high speed train to Nice

From Nice take the mountain train to Entrevaux from the Chemins de Fer de Provence station (Behind the now derelict old Gare su Sud, about about ten minutes’ walk North of the city’s main railway station., www.trainprovence.com. €18 adults, €9 children, one way.

For contact details, availability and booking, see greentraveller's full listing of Mercantour self-guided walking holidays