Op den Tarn De Aarde en haar Volken, 1909

A train snakes through the Clermont‑Nîmes line, a marvel of stone arches and soaring viaducts that cling to sheer cliffs over the Allier valley. Between the lush, cultivated hills of Auvergne and the stark, windswept gorge, every tunnel feels like a throat‑cutting sigh as the railway squeezes past crags and rushing waters far below. The journey is a study in contrast, offering passengers fleeting glimpses of green fields that suddenly give way to raw, rugged limestone wilderness.

Leaving the train at La Bastide, the narrator follows a narrow side‑track into the heart of the Cévennes plateaux, where massive table‑mountains rise 800‑1200 m and split into deep, canyon‑like fissures. These “causses” form isolated stone islands, their surfaces scarred by wind, sheep‑trimmed grasses, and the occasional stubborn oak or pine. The harsh climate—blistering sun on low plateaux, biting snow on the heights—has left the land sparsely populated, yet its stark beauty and hidden streams create a silent, compelling landscape that beckons both the curious traveller and the contemplative observer.