Susan found this photo from 1995 … of me standing on top of the Pont du Gard.
You can’t tell from this photo … but I’m kind of scared. And maybe even shaking a little bit in my bike shorts. Hey, it was super high and narrow up there, and really windy. You weren’t supposed to be up there because, well, you could fall over the edge and plunge to your death. Which isn’t good for tourism.
And yes, I’m wearing a fanny pack. Hey, it was 1995, and they were cool back then. OK, fanny packs were never cool. But they were sort of practical on a bike trip. Back then.
So, here’s the story…
We were in the midst of a French bike trip, and did a day trip from Avignon to see the Pont du Gard. This aqueduct is considered one of the Wonders of the Ancient World, for good reason. It’s amazing. The Pont du Gard was built around 19 BC and carried water from Uzes to Nimes, a distance of 31 miles. Not much of the aqueduct remains. This section rises majestically 160 feet over and across the Gard River.
Back in 1995, you could climb up into the top level of the Pont du Gard. You weren’t actually allowed to, and there were signs saying not to, but there wasn’t anyone there to stop you.
And so, lots of people climbed up to the top level. Maybe not lots, but several. Many. We saw them from down below.
“Come on Susan, we have to do it,” I insisted.
You climbed into the top level, the top tier, and were inside the “tunnel” where the water once flowed. It was dark and spooky, with some shafts of light coming in from the holes up above.
“Come on Susan, we have to climb up through one of these holes to the top.”
“Are you crazy?”
“Other people are doing it.”
According to my memory, I don’t think Susan actually climbed up and out of the hole and walked along the top of the Pont du Gard. I did, and tried to coax her up. She was way too smart to give in to my peer pressure. But she did pop up just long enough to take this photo.
Although you can’t see them, there were other people up there. They must have been hanging out in the other direction. At least that’s how I remember it.
I walked around a bit, although walking isn’t exactly the right description. I sort of scurried along, low and slow, like a crab, clinging to the center of the way-too-narrow top of the post. Some maniacs sat at the edge, dangling their feet over.
I don’t remember posing for this photo. It was probably the only time I stood up to tall.
Here’s what Susan remembers: “I immediately had to get down on my knees because it was so high. I did climb up there, but I couldn’t stay up there. It was too high and windy and wasn’t very wide. I felt like I was gonna fall. Taking this picture, putting a camera in front of my face, was about as much balance as I could handle. There were other people up there, but there weren’t very many. Don’t give people the idea there were a lot of people up there.”
We hung out a little bit, and then climbed down. Went for a dip in the Gard River, dried off in the sun, and started riding back to Avignon.
You can no longer climb up into and on top of the Pont du Gard. It’s probably for the best, but sure I do miss that view. It certainly got my adrenaline flowing.