Galavanting the Garonne
The Garonne; the stony river. Over 500km long and home to one of the world’s rarest animals - Acipenser sturio otherwise known as the Atlantic sturgeon. This was once a species common across much of Europe but now reduced to a single breeding population in Western Europe…..and even that hangs in the balance but for the amazing work that is ongoing at a research centre just outside of Bordeaux.
Last week I was honoured to tour the facility, run in partnership between two organisations, INRAE and Migado, and supported by donors across Europe, to see some of the great work that is being done. The place is basically two distinct but mutually supportive parts: an ex-situ breeding facility for Atlantic sturgeon to ensure their is a genetic pool large enough to support reintroduction efforts in France and further afield, and a facility where other species of sturgeon are bred for research to see how anthropogenic (fancy word for effects people have on things) activities impact sturgeon.
Some of the research was absolutely mind boggling; from testing the impacts different herbicides have on juvenile sturgeon (as sprayed chemicals on fields often flow into rivers), to ascertaining the best time to coax sturgeon into breeding within a non-natural setting. I spoke with PhD students, freshwater ecologists and lifetime researchers, all working symbiotically to prevent extinctions in French rivers. On this tour I was led by THE Eric Rochard, a guru on all things freshwater and a global authority on sturgeon conservation, and someone who very kindly answered all of my questions, regardless of how obscure they were.
Following the Garonne - the first of the major rivers that form the basis of this expedition - was also a period of significance to me, with much of my bygone school holidays spent ‘pottering’ around in the neighbouring watershed, the Tarn. Reflecting on the fortunate childhood I had, and the complete disregard I had for even trying to learn French (sorry France), Harry and I smashed through the storms and dusty country tracks before finding sanctuary at Sue and Mike Gillett’s. A literal oasis in the storms and a time that has been a real highlight of the trip so far. I’m not sure if they are avid blog readers of mine (is anyone?) but if they ever read this, a huge thank you again for patching us up, feeding us and sending us off with a stinking hangover!
The next leg sees us venture into the Tarn Gorge, a place famed for its dramatic scenery, laid back living and varied weather, before dropping on the the south coast where dearest Harry departs back to ol’Blighty and I continue eastwards.
A journey of a 1000 miles begins with a single step as they say. Well, when you have Harry consistently 300m out in front of you in begins with a sigh knowing that he’s almost certainly cycling in the wrong direction.
