This 11 km route is on sealed and unsealed roads. There is a gentle climb up to St Julia-de-Bec and down the other side, but nothing too strenuous. It’s open country and the views are great. I used my new bluetooth beanie to listen to some podcasts of David Deutsch being interviewed about his book The Beginning of Inifinity from a few years ago – I’m reading that at present – but you could probably listen to anything or nothing on this route.

Starting at home base at Laval, a village 5 km from Quillan, I run up the St Bertrand valley road – the D109. For us at Laval, the D109 is the main route out east towards Perpignan and the Mediterranean. But for most people it is a back-road. It’s very quiet. Brown cows with short horns look at me as I pass their farm. A square of cardboard hanging on the fence says a vendre (for sale) and provides a phone number. I think the sign was there when I came this way last year and the year before that.

There’s a ruined old stone building missing most of its roof – maybe it was once a small house or hut for farm workers.

I’m not the only person out and about. I’m surprised and pleased to twice pass a walker coming the other way. (Two different walkers, that is.) Both times I wave and say Bonjour! I listen to them echo my greeting and think I must try to mimic their pronunciation. But the two walkers said the word differently. Maybe the second one is not a local. Or maybe the first isn’t. Both have walking poles. The first walker looks like he is responding to recent medical advice to lose weight. He is dressed in a garish white leisure suit and woolly hat. He appears to be newly attempting power-walking. Good on him! The second walker, whose bonjour! sounds non-native, is dressed to blend into the landscape: brown coat with dark fur collar, dark hat and gloves.

And me? I’m in a single layer of running gear because, despite being mid-winter, it is a sunny and warm afternoon. Blue road shoes, fluoro orange shirt – I make no attempt to blend in -, the aforementioned black beanie to hear Deutsch, white running cap on top of the beanie to shade my eyes, and black gloves. And shorts, of course. The gloves prove pointless in the warm sun.

I’m told that back in the day the St Bertrand valley (the D109 that I’m on) was a main route from this region out towards Perpignan. That changed once Felix Armand and co boldly pushed a road through the Pierre Lys gorge a few hundred years ago. If you drive that spectacular gorge road, you will understand why it would not have previously been passable. When the Romans were around, Laval would have been a staging post on the St Bertrand main route. My source tells me that an old boy in the village uses a metal detector to find Roman coins and what-not in the fields around here.

After a couple of kilometres of flat running on the straight Roman road in the afternoon sun, I leave the D109 and follow the road uphill for one kilometre to St Julia-de-Bec. That village is nestled up against beautiful mountains, including Pique de Bec – that is visible for many miles around. The mountain’s thick sloping strata cliffs stand out. I think of the mountain Pech de Bugarach not far off and wonder if it has a similar geology. Bugarach is magical and upside-down, I’ve been told by various people. ‘Magical’ obviously might mean much or nothing and you can easily take or leave that sort of claim. But upside-down? I ponder that claim, as I listen to Deutsch. I think he would call that a bad explanation. How could one refute the allegation of it being upside-down? By what criterion is it judged to be upside-down? What if I said this: ‘Actually, it’s the right way up. The top is at the top and the bottom is at the bottom’?

I’m reminded of a joke: ‘Does your nose run? Do your feet smell? Perhaps you were made upside-down.’

Anyway, I’m from Down Under, so I’m used to mountains being upside-down.

There’s a map-board at St Julia-de-Bec. I check my intended route. The map shows a track up Serre de Bec. Perhaps I’ll explore it some time.

A man with a dog looks at me at St Julia-de-Bec. I wish I blended in a bit more. The houses on the outskirts of the village are smart and spaced at respectful distances. They remind me of a little Swiss chalets. And there’s an Italianate place on the road too: all round arches on columns, lines of cypress trees, and pastel colours. Two other people look at me from a distance. It occurs to me that they may not have seen a truly orange person before.

I pass under the arch over the main street (the only street). The arch has a large Christmas star mounted on it.

I run down the road to the Moulin de Balence at the creek, then turn left onto the unsealed track to Ste Eugenie and Chataeu Marserou. This is my favourite part of the route. Nothing spectacular, just pleasantly quiet, undulating, untouched. The chataeu does not obviously appear to be a chataeu at all. I plan to stare at it from different angles next time to see if any sort of chateau shape emerges. Here the route is close to St Ferriol up the hill and you could easily detour up there. But I continue on the lower part of the valley, rejoin the D109, and complete the loop back to Laval. One hour at a gentle jog or two hours walking.