The mountainous region of Auvergne has long been one of the most overlooked destinations in France. Situated between Dordogne and Lyon, it boasts some of the most majestic natural attractions in the world, among which are the UNESCO World Heritage-designated Chaîne des Puys volcanoes, the ancient thermal springs of Mont-Dore, and bucolic Limagne — a rolling expanse of fields and pastures that has drawn comparisons with Tuscany.
Arguably Auvergne’s least-known treasure is Lake Pavin – a crater lake located just a few minutes west of Besse, a medieval town in the highlands of the Puy-de-Dôme department. Created thousands of years ago from violent clashes of groundwater and lava, Pavin is the region’s deepest and most alluring lake. Its shimmering crystal waters – calm and inviting – are reminiscent of the Mediterranean along the calanques of Marseille. Fringed with spruce, pine, and beech trees, Pavin also features extensive hiking trails and numerous picnic areas.
A Haunted Spot
But looks can be deceiving. Pavin is no ordinary lake. Its strange history – full of hair-raising legends about infernal beings and Biblical-style cataclysms – reads like a Lovecraftian mythos. Some claimed that aquatic demons swam beneath its surface, boiling the water when irked. Others said that Pavin’s silent waves concealed the ruins of a city – flooded for its sins. Above all, the local consensus was that the lake was guarded by none other than the Devil himself. Hauntingly beautiful, it was also terrifyingly haunted.
Some of these tales — widely circulated for centuries — date back to the Middle Ages. In those days, it was said that anyone who cast a stone into Pavin’s “fathomless” depths would immediately summon up a thundering hailstorm. Louis Batissier, a nineteenth-century Auvergnat historian and archaeologist, summed up the belief as follows:
It was said that if you threw a stone into the lake during calm, serene weather, the water would be stirred up, and a thick, electrically-charged vapour would rise to its surface; it would condense into dark clouds, and soon you would witness a terrible storm. The sky is ablaze; thunder rumbles furiously, and rain and hail desolate the countryside.
Fascinatingly, recent studies have shown that the origins of this legend may lie in Pavin’s unique biochemistry. For example, in the 1980s, localised earthquakes or mudslides caused the carbon-dioxide rich Cameroonian lakes Nyos and Monoun to “explode”. Nyos not only emitted a toxic cloud that killed over 1,500 people, but it also generated a variety of bizarre phenomena, such as lightning, thunder, and a high geyser-like column of water.
Like both African “killer lakes” (as they’re popularly called), Pavin also contains an overabundance of carbon dioxide and methane, chemicals that – when disturbed – can cause explosions of gas above the surface. Is it possible that Pavin also erupted in the past? Could the memory of this catastrophe (or catastrophes) have influenced regional folklore? The answer, strange as it may sound, is a resounding yes, according to University of Paris emeritus professor of geology Michel Meybeck.
“Pavin is a lake of an exceptional nature, and this is linked to its location in a volcanic region that’s always emitting gases of magmatic origin,” Meybeck told me. “Its deep waters store these gases, but they occasionally escape.” Meybeck contends that the most recent of these very rare “limnic eruptions” (unknown to science until 1986) occurred at Pavin in August 1785. “This was when a column of swirling gaseous water rose for two hours amidst lightning and thunder,” he added. “However, if you consider both the geographical information and the numerous legendary stories about the lake, this sort of event has happened several times over the last 2000 years.”
For the most part, Pavin’s exciting history is much like the fabled sunken city that sleeps on the lake bottom: invisible to all but those curiosity-driven deep divers. Those who do find themselves in Auvergne should not make the mistake of skipping this mysterious lake – especially if they have a taste for, as the American littérateur Washington Irving put it: “haunted spots and twilight superstitions.”
Andrew Manns (PhD) is a historian and the director of Visit Auvergne (visitauvergne.org), a project that seeks to promote the diverse cultural heritage of Auvergne to international audiences. He also runs Hidden Clermont-Ferrand Tours – an English walking tour that explores the little-known legends and histories of Auvergne’s capital city.
