France
Le Peuil

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    • Day6

      Chartreuse und Vercors

      July 24, 2021 in France ⋅ ☁️ 16 °C

      Und noch einmal Thomas Mann: Es gibt geheimnisvolle Zusammenhänge zwischen dem Zauberberg, den brandenburgischen Konzerten und dem Kräuterlikör Chartreuse. Wir haben durch dessen Genuss alles entschlüsselt, aber leider kann ich nun keinen klaren Gedanken mehr fassen. Morgen werde ich Euch aber alles verraten. Was für ein Tag. Santé et bon degustation! ... So, und nun kommt die Auflösung. Man glaubt ja gar nicht, was sich alles hinter einem Best Western Hotel verbergen kann. Das Grand Hotel de Paris in Villard-de-Lans jedenfalls überrascht uns mit alter Pracht. Was immer die Geschichte dieses Hauses sein mag, man wird sofort 100 Jahre in die Vergangenheit katapultiert und Thomas Manns Zauberberg kommt in den Sinn. Keinesfalls würde es überraschen, wenn sich Hans Castorp im Nebenzimmer einquartiert hätte und dort schon seit einigen Jahren das Weltgeschehen an sich vorbeiziehen ließe. Alles ist in sich stimmig, Best Western hat wirklich nichts investiert, selbst die Fenster sind einfach verglast und haben noch Beschläge, die ein Foto wert sind. Und welches Hotel auf dieser Erde leistet sich - neben Frühstücks- und Speisesaal - noch einen mindestens 150qm großen Aufenthaltsraum? Man hört geradezu die Tür hinter der kirgisischen Gräfin Madame Chauchat mit lautem Knall zufallen, damit sie sich der ungeteilten Aufmerksamkeit aller Hotelgäste (und natürlich auch der von Hans Castorp) sicher sein kann. Dieser morbide und stehengebliebene Raum gehört uns zu später Stunde ganz allein (die überwiegend ebenfalls sehr alten anderen Hotelgäste sind schon zur Ruhe gekommen), und da wir zuvor sehr erfreulich durch das Massiv Chartreuse gerollt sind, beschäftigen wir uns ausgiebig mit dem hochprozentigen Kräuterlikör, den die Chartreuser Mönche in grün (eher kräftig) und gelb (eher aromatisch) herstellen, und von dem es auch noch eine 12 Jahre alte Variante gibt (eher teuer). Per Spotify holen wir die Klänge des 3. Brandenburgische Konzert in die heilige Halle, und die Zeitreise in die Vergangenheit ist perfekt.Read more

      Traveler

      Ich bin gespannt. Bonne nuit 💋

      7/24/21Reply
       
    • Day2

      Meaudre Rhòne alp

      August 13, 2019 in France ⋅ ⛅ 13 °C

      Sind vor 2 Stunden auf den Campingplatz Caravaneige les buissonnets angekommen. Liegt ca. 1200 Meter hoch.
      Unten in Grenoble waren es schöne warme 24 Grad
      Hier oben sind es nur noch 14 Grad.
      Aber eine wunderschöne Natur und Gegend.Read more

      Traveler

      Berge....genau meine Kragenweite..!!!!!

      8/14/19Reply
      Traveler

      Sieht so romantisch und ruhig aus.das tut sicher gut!!!

      8/17/19Reply
       
    • Day20

      Klitschnass in den Vercors

      August 14, 2021 in France ⋅ ☀️ 27 °C

      Es ist zehn Uhr morgens, die Sonne brennt schon unbarmherzig und der Schweiß tropft von meinem Gesicht auf meine Brille, meine Augen brennen. Ich schiebe mittlerweile mein Rad die unmöglich steile Straße hoch. Wenn das so weitergeht, kann ich umdrehen. Ich bin wirklich kurz davor, das erste Mal vor einem Berg zu kapitulieren. Unmöglich, das zu schaffen. Ich halte an und schaue auf meine Karte, ob ich anderswo fahren kann.

      Gestern war ich in Grenoble angekommen und hatte mangels Alternativen ein billiges Hotelzimmer gebucht, das relativ nahe am Vercors liegt. Das Vercors ist ein Bergmassiv mit spektakulären Routen, das ich heute erreichen möchte. Dumm nur, dass heute mehrere Dinge ungünstig zusammenfallen: die Hitze, zunehmend müde Beine und müder Kopf, eine Steigung von gefühlt 30 Prozent.

      Mangels sinnvoller Alternativrouten und auch aus Trotz schiebe ich mein schwer bepacktes Rad bis zum Ende der kleinen Dorfstraße hoch, während der Schweiß in Bächen an mir herunterläuft. Glücklicherweise geht's oben auf einer Hauptstraße weiter, die mit einer etwas menschenmöglicheren Steigung aufwartet. Dennoch brauche ich fast drei Stunden, ehe ich (schweißnass bis auf die Knochen) mit dem Fahrrad gemütlich in das Tal rolle.

      Aus den Berichten über das Vercors hatte ich geschlossen, dass hier nicht allzu viel los sein würde. Der starke Verkehr während der Passüberquerung hätte mich schon misstrauisch machen müssen - hier macht vielmehr halb Grenoble Ferien. Ein Geheimtipp ist dieses Gebiet wahrscheinlich seit zwanzig Jahren nicht mehr. Ich fahre quer durch das Tal und klappere Campingplätze ab. Alle ausgebucht über Wochen. Normalerweise buche ich nicht im Voraus - bislang hat es noch immer irgendwie geklappt und man weiß ja nie, wie der Tag am Ende läuft. Heute muss ich aus der Not heraus wieder ein Hotelzimmer buchen, und dafür die gesamte Strecke durchs Tal zurückfahren. Angenehme Überraschung dabei: Mein Zimmerbalkon geht zum Rathausplatz, wo abends ein Open-Air-Konzert steigt. Das lasse ich mir natürlich nicht nehmen!
      Read more

    • Day34

      Meaudre

      October 4, 2013 in France ⋅ ☁️ 11 °C

      In Which the Whole Town Stared in Wonder

      Dressed in his best dark suit and tie, the young man certainly stood out from the crowd. He was also in a wheelchair pushed along by his elderly mother. We had only arrived in the beautiful alpine town of Champagnole only a couple of hours earlier and were looking for somewhere to get some food after a long day's drive.

      As he approached me I could see that his face was flushed with animation. When he saw me he made a line straight for me and started to explain something rapidly in French. At first, I made the completely wrong assumption that he was asking for money and told him that I could not understand what he was saying.

      He then switched into broken English, and I could detect that he was trying to tell me something about the large bell tower at the end of the main street. When I followed his pointing hand, I finally saw the object of his excitement. A large waterbird had perched right on the top of the tower and was preening itself on the highest spot in the town. From the young man's excitement, it was obvious that it was unusual sight to see a waterbird this far from the sea. Once he realised that I could see what he had been telling me about he proceeded to work his way along the street, sharing this information with everyone he met.

      Soon the street was filled with people staring at the steeple, small crowds gathered looking up at the solitary bird, cameras were clicking and smiles were in abundant supply.

      It had been a simple event that had somehow touched the lives of many of the people in the vicinity. In a complex and stressful world, it was so refreshing to realise that not everyone has lost their sense of wonder. I will take that episode in my memory as a highlight of my trip.
      Read more

    • Day35

      Meaudre

      October 5, 2013 in France ⋅ ☁️ 10 °C

      In Which Two Adventurers Get Caught in A Storm in the Alps

      Every year when the Tour de France is on, I sit up late at night captivated, not only by the prowess of the riders, but also by of the majesty of the towering French Alps. It had long been a dream of mine to one day explore these same mountains and see at first hand some of the roads that had featured so many times in the famous battles for cycling stardom.
      When Maggie and I were planning our trip, I made sure that the route would take us right through the main alpine region. Maggie, on the other hand, being terrified of heights, preferred a sea level itinerary. Of course, I convinced her that the roads were perfectly safe and that at no time would we be near the edge (actually I lied just a little in that respect).

      This morning we left Lake Geneva and headed towards Mont Blanc and Grenoble. The first section of the drive was done in thick clouds so we could not see much at all of the surroundings, apart from the odd snow capped razor back mountain appearing briefly through short breaks in the cloud. After a couple of wrong turns we found ourselves on a succession of high speed toll roads and made a considerable contribution to the French economy in the process. By the same token, driving at 140 kph is an experience that I am starting to get used to.

      Our drive took us through the large mountainside city of Grenoble, and we quickly learned that it must have more traffic lights than the rest of France put together. Once out of Grenoble the road immediately climbs fiercely, and each switchback gives glimpses of the city rapidly disappearing below. By this time Maggie's knuckles were white and she was glaring at me with a judgmental look in her eye. When I encouraged her to enjoy the view, she tersely replied that she was only "looking at the dashboard".

      After more than an hour of climbing we reached a beautiful high plateau surrounded by mountains and ski fields, Our accommodation for the night was booked in an obscure little hamlet called "Les Gonnets". Thanks to Google maps and the wizardry of GPS technology we found the place and settled into our room. We need not have worried about whether there would be sufficient space for us as we have the entire place to ourselves.

      After a bit of a nap, we decided it was time to find some place to eat and pulled aside the curtains to discover that the skies had opened and that the rain was literally sheeting down. The temperature had also dropped dramatically.
      In the five weeks that we have been in France the weather had been fine and dry, so it was something of a shock to see such a vicious change. I started to worry what would happen if the rain turned to snow and left us snowed in for days. The proprietor had already explained that for about 4 months of every year the region is metres deep in snow. Could it be that the changing weather patterns had brought the snow a month early ?

      We made a dash for our car and immediately got soaked to the skin in the downpour. When I started to drive it was almost impossible to see where we were going, even with the extra driving lights switched on. Fortunately we somehow found a small cafe (we were the ony ones there) and were able to enjoy a delicious meal before struggling to navigate our way back along the same dark alpine roads in the continuing storm. The heatwave that welcomed us to Paris a few short weeks ago now seems like a distant memory.
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    • Day1

      1. stopp

      August 13, 2016 in France ⋅ ☀️ 24 °C

      Wir grillen jetzt gemütlich und genießen die 35 Grad 😋

      Ramona Pfirrmann

      Wir haben auch sehr warmes Wetter😂

      8/13/16Reply
      Ramona Pfirrmann

      Wo seid ihr jetzt

      8/13/16Reply
      Ramona Pfirrmann

      Ja habe es gesehen, irgendwo in Frankreich😂

      8/13/16Reply
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    • Day35

      Meaudre Thunderstorm

      October 5, 2013 in France ⋅ ☁️ 9 °C

      In Which the Mountains Get A Shaking (and we LOVE it)

      Somehow, we managed to navigate our way back through the storm to our Gite in Les Gonnets. With the rain sheeting down and the darkness almost impenetrable it was very difficult to see where we were going on these unfamiliar mountain roads. It was a relief when we finally found our place for the night and were able to settle down in a nice cosy bed.

      No sooner had our heads hit the pillows when the region was rocked by a series of loud explosions which reverberated around the surrounding mountains for at least 20 seconds. Maggie sat up and said "What was that ?". "I think it must have been a plane" was my sleepy reply. A couple of minutes later the explosions repeated and I realised that we were in the middle of a spectacular alpine thunderstorm. In these surroundings such storms take on a whole new dimension where you can feel the vibrations right through your body. Several times I had experienced similar storms in the Himalayas, and they are experiences I will never forget. I threw the windows and shutters open so that we could get a better view of the spectacle. For the next hour or so we were treated to a mighty free pyrotechnics display. Every minute or so the sky would blaze with lightning and then the mighty thunder would follow soon after. How much better than watching TV !!!

      Finally, the storm passed, and we were able to settle back into a deep sleep. This morning, over breakfast, the owner and his wife showed us pictures of this house taken last October when the snows arrived early. The pictures showed everything in sight buried under a good 2 metres of snow. Apparently the snow did not melt until May this year. That’s what I call a real winter.

      Today we are going to have a quiet day exploring the local ski fields and small villages. Tomorrow will be another big day when we head off to climb the famous Alpe d'Huez, scene of so many famous cycling exploits in the Tour de France.
      Read more

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