The calm, the red earth, the lake view. Since 1989.
When our parents bought this 1960s sheepfold, the family had just arrived from Switzerland. Over there, everything was regimented; here, it was freedom. But a freedom that had to be earned: the place was buried under the previous owner's rubble — several lorry loads to clear it all — and a metre of manure had built up in the sheepfold, where the sheep used to sleep. In fact, until we arrived it still housed sheep and a few wild boar fed in a pen. Lake Salagou? Invisible. It all had to be cleared before we discovered the view the Bergerie is now known for.
Two years of works with family, friends and neighbours. The children too: at 11 or 12, we pushed the wheelbarrow, filled the cement mixer, plugged the gaps between the bricks. In 1992, the first four Bergerie gîtes opened — carved out of the sheepfold itself. From that era remain the two big metal double doors the animals went out through, the Roman-tile roof of Papillon and Mimosa, and two old boreholes. During the works we even had a cow and a few sheep — the sheepfold's last four-legged residents.
In 1997, the pool came out of the ground. In 1998, our father started on the future family house. In the meantime, the five of us lived in what would become Papillon and Mimosa — that's where the connecting door between the two comes from. And in summer, we rented out Papillon while we all squeezed into Mimosa. In summer 2000, both became proper gîtes. Papillon keeps the nickname of our grandfather, who lived here for a few years with his sister.
One of the sons had left to work in Switzerland in 2000; he came back in 2002. His father then suggested they build two new gîtes together at the end of the sheepfold: Lavande and Garrigue, delivered in summer 2004. Lavande, because our mother loves lavender; Garrigue, because it faces the garrigue.
Then came the three Salagou gîtes, a new building in line with the sheepfold, finished in summer 2008 — three gîtes built for the sweeping view down over the lake. In 2009, the house at the end of the Salagou gîtes completed the Bergerie. Eleven gîtes, born of thirty years of family building projects.
Our parents still live here, at Mas Delon — a place name that long predates our arrival. Three generations cross paths on the estate, and there is always someone here to welcome you. After more than thirty-five years, the answer to “why keep going?” hasn't changed: this isn't a rental business, it's our life.
The estate is garrigue, ruffe rock — right down to a small canyon of red earth — and forest on the slopes: olive trees, holm oaks, ash trees, and vines on the lake plain. You'll come across wild boar, roe deer, foxes, hares and birds of prey, plus the family's six cats.
Hiking trails and mountain-bike routes start right from the gîtes; allow 40 minutes on foot to the lake. Up on the heights, the Cayroux plateau offers a panorama from which you can see the sea on a clear day, and several small ruins dot the property.
Some summers, we even watch the Canadair water bombers scoop water from the lake. At night, there is no light pollution at all: the Milky Way is visible to the naked eye, and you can count shooting stars lying in the garden, lulled by the cicadas.
Each with its own shade, its own light, its own atmosphere. Born over the years, all rooted in the same estate.
Four gîtes carved out of the old sheepfold in 1992 — each with its own light, its own shade, its own mulberry tree.
This is where it all began, in 1992. The walls of the old sheepfold, the view over the garden, and above all: your mulberry tree. A natural parasol that shades the terrace from May to September. You have breakfast there facing the morning sun, and linger there in the evening. Facing south-east, the light comes in early and soft. The gîte of the regulars who come back “to their bergerie”.
Same stone, same history: one of the first four gîtes born of the original sheepfold. Its south-east terrace lives under its mulberry tree — the shade is there before you need it. A view over the garden, the heated pool a few steps away, the lake a little further on. A simple, honest gîte where you eat outside at lunch and dinner, all summer long, without ever having to hunt for shade.
The third of the historic gîtes. The thing you'll do best here? Nothing. A deckchair under the mulberry tree, the sound of the cicadas, the garden in front of you. The terrace faces south-east: soft sun in the morning, deep shade in the afternoon. In the evening, a few steps take you to the pool — or just look up at a sky without a single stray light.
The last of the four gîtes carved out of the sheepfold in 1992 — two years of family building work, cement mixer and wheelbarrow. Today: a terrace shaded by its mulberry tree, a view resting on the garden, the calm of the estate all around. The south-east orientation gives bright mornings and shady afternoons. The perfect starting point for the estate's trails.
Three gîtes built for the sweeping view down over the lake — the view that gave them their name.
Open the shutters: Lake Salagou is right there below, still glassy. The three Salagou gîtes were built for this plunging view — it's what gave them their name. A private, fenced terrace facing south-east: morning coffee is taken facing the water. The children and the dog play safely, and you never take your eyes off the lake.
From the private terrace, the lake stretches out before you, framed by red earth. On some summer days, a Canadair swoops down to scoop water — the kind of show you can't schedule. South-east facing, fully fenced: perfect with young children or a pet. In the evening, simply turn your chair to the west and watch the ruffe hills catch fire.
The youngest of the three Salagou gîtes, finished in 2008, with the same view that stops conversation: the lake below, the ruffe hills all around. Private, fenced terrace facing south-east. This is the gîte for contemplatives — anglers scanning the water, hikers picking out tomorrow's trail, and everyone who dines outside until the Milky Way switches on.
Four one-of-a-kind gîtes, each with its own character and capacity.
Papillon was our grandfather. He lived here, in this part of the family house that became a gîte in 2000 — the original Roman-tile roof still bears witness to it. A large south-east terrace open onto the garden, and a small vine that gives its grapes at the end of summer: help yourself. Connects with Mimosa to bring a whole tribe together under one roof.
Our old house — the five of us lived here. It's the Bergerie's cocooning gîte: a small south-east terrace, and bedrooms turned towards the back of the estate, on the garrigue side. The result: the coolest of the eleven, even at the height of August, and nights of absolute calm. A mimosa used to bloom at the corner of the terrace — it gave the gîte its name. Connects with Papillon for big families.
It looks towards the back of the estate, where the garrigue begins — hence its name. It's also the Bergerie's accessible gîte: single-storey, with a private parking space paved right up to the door, designed so everyone can enjoy the estate without obstacles. South-west terrace: here, the end of the day is the beautiful part, when the light filters through the oaks.
The name comes from our mother, who loves lavender. We built the gîte ourselves in 2004, extending the sheepfold. Its strength: a large terrace with double exposure, south-east and south-west — the morning sun AND the evening sun. Two tables, twelve chairs. This is where tribes gather, where meals run long, and where nobody wants to clear the table.
Eleven gîtes await you at the Bergerie — back to the home page to choose yours.
