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  • Day 35

    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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