Mercantour National Park

Listen for a moment. Up here, the loudest sound is often the wind moving through the larches. Then comes a sharp, high whistle from somewhere among the rocks. That is a marmot, warning its family that you have arrived. The air is thin and cool, and it smells of resin and warm stone. Underfoot, the path crunches with loose grey scree. Welcome to Mercantour National Park, a wide sweep of high mountains at the southern end of the French Alps.

Mercantour became a national park in 1979. It stretches across two French departments. One is Alpes-de-Haute-Provence, where you may be standing now. The other is Alpes-Maritimes, which runs down towards Nice and the Mediterranean coast. The park follows a chain of valleys, each with its own villages, dialects and character. On this northern and western side, the Ubaye and the upper Verdon valleys lead you up into the high country.

Here is the first surprise. These are true alpine peaks, with snow that can last well into summer. Yet in parts of the park, the Mediterranean Sea lies less than a day's walk away. Few mountain ranges in Europe sit this close to warm salt water. That meeting of two climates shapes everything you see. Sun-loving southern plants grow on dry slopes. Cold-loving alpine flowers grow higher up, and sometimes the two grow almost side by side.

The result is a remarkable range of plant life. Botanists have recorded thousands of plant species inside the park. Some of them grow nowhere else on Earth. The best known is the multi-flowered saxifrage, a small, cushion-shaped plant. It lives in narrow cracks in granite cliffs and can survive there for many decades. It is a quiet, modest plant. But it is also a living link to the ice ages, when these mountains looked very different.

Now look at the trees around you. Many of them are larches. The larch is unusual because it is a conifer that loses its needles every year. In spring the needles are a soft, bright green. In late October, the whole forest turns gold, then copper, before the needles drop. If you are here in autumn, the slopes glow in low sunlight. In winter, the same trees stand bare and grey against the snow.

Keep your eyes on the high ground. Chamois move easily across steep slopes that look impossible to cross. Alpine ibex, with their heavy, ridged horns, often rest on rocky ledges. They can stay perfectly still for a long time, so scan slowly. Above them, you may see a golden eagle turning in wide circles. And with some luck, you may spot a much larger bird with a pale head. That is a bearded vulture, a species brought back to the Alps after it disappeared.

The bearded vulture has an unusual diet. It feeds mostly on bones. It carries large bones high into the air and drops them onto rocks. The bones break, and the bird swallows the pieces, marrow and all. For a long time people feared these birds and hunted them. Today, conservation teams follow them carefully across the French and Italian Alps. Each sighting in Mercantour is a small sign that the mountains are recovering.

Here is the second surprise, and it is a story that divides opinion in these valleys. In the early 1990s, wolves returned to France. Nobody released them. They walked in by themselves from Italy, across the mountain border, and Mercantour was one of the first places where they settled. For naturalists, this was a remarkable event. For shepherds, it brought real losses. Today you will see large white guard dogs with the flocks. Give them space, and walk calmly around the sheep.

That border with Italy matters here. On the far side lies the Italian Maritime Alps park. The two parks work together closely. Wildlife does not recognise national lines, and neither do the old shepherd routes. For centuries, people, animals and goods crossed these passes. Salt, wool and cheese moved along mule tracks. Many of the footpaths you walk today follow those same working routes.

People have used these mountains for a very long time. On the Alpes-Maritimes side, near Mont Bégo, lies the Valley of Marvels. There, on smooth rock surfaces, people carved tens of thousands of engravings, mostly during the Bronze Age, roughly four thousand years ago. Many show horned animals, tools and weapons. Their exact meaning is still debated. Some areas can only be visited with an authorised guide, because the carvings are fragile.

Closer to this side of the park, water is the main attraction. Lac d'Allos, above the village of Allos in the upper Verdon valley, is a large natural mountain lake. Its water is cold and clear, and the surrounding peaks reflect on calm mornings. To the north, the road over the Col de la Bonette climbs to one of the highest points reached by any road in Europe. From the top, row after row of ridges fades into blue haze.

A few simple rules protect all of this. In the core of the park, dogs are not allowed, even on a lead. Flowers, stones and insects must stay where they are. Drones are not permitted. Camping is limited, though short overnight bivouacs are allowed in some areas under set conditions. These rules can feel strict. But they explain why the marmots still whistle, and why the ibex still rest on the ledges.

Before you move on, stop and turn slowly in a full circle. Notice how the colours change with height. Dark forest sits low, then pale grass, then bare grey rock, then sky. Listen again for the wind in the larches and the marmot's whistle. When you walk back down, the air will slowly grow warmer and softer. Somewhere behind you, the mountain will go quiet again, just as it was before you came.