Paul Fabre

Paul Fabre (1935-2023), Cent Cols no. 1733 since 1982
Eddius wasn't a relentless climber: he'd blocked his counter some twenty years ago. But he knew how to tell the story of a ride like no one else, and the veteran cyclotourist hid an eminent university lecturer and author of works on linguistics.

Author of height

I remember that day in September 2000, when I was leading a peloton of around a hundred cyclists who had come to Beaune from all over France for the gathering of members of the Amicale des Diagonalistes, which you chaired. In the wheel of your two secretaries, you were surrounded by your closest cycling companions, ennobled by Messire Eddius. I picked up a few snippets of your jokes and felt a real sense of frustration at not being part of that first circle... (and I quote you) "of serious adults who play these childish games at the age of spanking". I had no chance of being part of that first circle because, living 400 kilometres from Alès, it was impossible for me to join Albert, Émile, Guy and all the others who shared your route, for hours and days on end, around France or on the Diagonal, from Paris to Brest or from Hendaye to Compostela.
I couldn't have guessed then that when I asked you in March 2015 to write the foreword to the biography of Patrick Plaine that I had just written, we would both be setting off on a long adventure, in which our computers would replace our hikers and our keyboards their pedals. There are exactly 42 editions that I made for you, 35 of which are on public sale, the other 7 are books that you chose to distribute only to your friends and family. We spent many long hours together, you designing the itineraries, me paving the way for you, trying to repair the memory loss of your old computer, rowing through your pages in Occitan, but happy and accomplice as were all the knights of your ost.

Thank you, Paul, for introducing me to the world of the troubadours and that noble word paratge, which in my ignorance I absolutely wanted to spell partage. Thank you for introducing me to the poetic world of your beloved Paul Valéry, by teaching me to listen to the music of his verses rather than trying to make sense of them. Thank you for teaching me the wise philosophy of Montaigne. Thank you for taking so much time to write me over a thousand emails, in which we often joked like children...

Thank you again for inviting me to share a final Diagonal with you, by asking me to send you 80 snapshots of my life's journey, which you returned to me with 8 verses of 8 feet each, personalised poems that touched me deeply. We turned them into a book, the title of which you chose: TOGETHER.
I know, Paul, that you've left to join your beloved Françoise, and that you didn't forget to take your sixth bike with you, the beautiful Follis that she gave you for your seventieth birthday. And I also know that you'll be "pulling long straights on your biggest gear" with Pierre, Raymond, Micheline, Émile, Patrick, and all those who rode alongside you and who have left us, in your wheel. And I still know that you will be able to find the wit to cut off their momentum a hundred metres from the top of a pass, no doubt as prestigious as a Portet d'Aspet or a Cabarétou. Having been the Prince of Portet, Messire Eddius will also be the Prince of Paradise.
Farewell Paul, you Ô mais grande para sempre, farewell Maestro and thank you. Thank you very much.

Gilbert Jaccon, Cent Cols n° 3497, Beaune

My fondest memories of cycling with Paul Fabre, alias Eddius, include the 25th anniversary Cent-Cols concentration at Mas de la Barque on 17 August 1997, and in particular the climb from Concoules to Genolhac that preceded it. It was a long, uneven climb through the forest, during which Eddius, himself on the bike and us on the tandem, gave us a lecture on the origins of the names of regional passes such as Canteperdrix, Lancise, Banlève and Malpertus.

Henri Bosc and a few others joined in, and as we pedalled up to the sign for the Col du Pré de la Dame (FR-30-1474), we held Henri back by the rear luggage rack, allowing Eddius to cross the pass in the lead, thus holding high his position as president of the Amicale des Diagonalistes!

Henri had, of course, pretended to take offence at his colleague's stolen victory, thus fuelling the legend of their oratorical rivalries, which also involved their friends from the Massif Central, Jean Fournol and Jean Barrié, who were also in Concoules that weekend, and who were to be found in their stories under aristocratic or medieval pseudonyms...

Paul Fabre knew how to put his erudition within our reach, cf. his 'Que sais-je' on personal names in France, and among all his writings, we particularly remember his brilliant eulogy of all that is small, which appeared when he took over Le Petit Diagonaliste, in issue 25 of November 1994. I have (temporarily?) mislaid this issue, which Jean-Philippe Battu put online a few years ago. If anyone has it, I'd be happy to scan it for you.

We won't forget Eddius in a hurry, and I'd like to take this opportunity to congratulate those who keep our fraternity alive and kicking, as can be seen from the many messages published in the New Year, which are just the tip of the iceberg.

Marc Liaudon

Yesterday I learned the sad news of the death of Paul Fabre. Well-known within the FFCT, a great cycle tourer but above all a great writer, he has left us a considerable body of work...
I don't know if he was a member of the club des cent cols?
Eddius, as his many friends liked to call him, died yesterday 12 January.
I'm currently reading one of his latest books: "Une ivresse continue ou saga d'un Cycliste ordinaire", which will now have a different flavour...

Jean-Marc Lefèvre

Sad news indeed. We have lost a great hiker and a fine writer. Eddius had, of course, returned to the CCC in 1982, as had his 3 companions from the 'Chemins à trois voies' who had set off on the Camino de Santiago, including Henri Bosc, who remains the last of the group.
Peace be to his soul and condolences to all his family.

Didier Rémond

The departure of our friend Eddius is yet another sorrow for cyclotourists, as our friends from the Pyrenees leave us one by one, leaving us with another Henri.
Sadly