THE TORTOISE-STRADA

Ali and Grete do a lap of the lake then we set off for Italy.
It’s only a few miles of dual carriageway before we climb the sinuous but wide and smooth road to the start of the Mont Blanc tunnel.  The cashier looks up at Mary*Lou’s roof  and comes out  to measure our height with a pole.  We are under 3m high so we get charged Class 2 €60.40.
We are given our receipt and a tag with the do’s  and don’ts of driving  safely through the 11.7 km long underground passage.  The barrier rises and we plunge into the base of the highest mountain in the Alps.   Traffic is spaced  out and monitored along the two way route.  In addition to the overhead lights the ‘waistbands’ are lit with orange markers which are supplemented with blue distance guides to keep vehicles at least 150m apart.  Deep in the tunnel the temperature rises by 4C.  Driving at just under the 70kph limit it is over 10 minutes before we emerge on the Italian side of what is now Monte Bianco. 
We pull into the car park and are shortly joined by Nick + Grete.  Everyone is awestruck by the view.

Behind us the towering mountain, capped with white.  Dirty glacial ice clings to the sides of the steep rock.  Over the ravine a chapel, Santuario de Notre Dame de Guerison is perched beside a steep track.  White water cascades down a boulder strewn channel, what looks like a tiny stream is actually spewing hundreds of tonnes a minute from the small hydroelectric station above the chapel.
Away to our left the Aosta valley spreads out like a geography lesson, a deep and wide glacial valley with mountains forming interlocking spurs as they fade from dark green near ones to hazy purple distant ones.  Little clusters of buildings and two main roads flank the valley floor.

It’s time to get moving so we exit the car park and descend to the intersection of the Autostrada.  Snoopy tells us if we took the A5 Toll we would reach Ivrea in just over two hours, but we are keeping to the adjacent SS26 which is predicted to take over twice as long.
But the ‘Tortoise Strada’ ,as Nick names it along the way, proves to be a lovely drive.  Much of it is limited to 50kph [30mph] and hardly any is above 70kph/43mph] meaning the drivers can enjoy the scenery a much as the passengers.  There are many small towns to pass through, woody valleys, plains at the feet of arid escarpments and vineyards arranged on terraces of pergola like structures creating the impression of pigeon holes.  A few promontories  are topped  with castles or forts.

Often we are beside the milky green river, foaming where as it tumbles over boulders and weirs.
We stop frequently to take in the scenes.  At Bard we stop by the river to look at Napoleon’s mighty fortress rising in terraces from the river bank.

Just outside Ivrea we find the camperstop but typically for Italian pay points it needs a diploma in the unexpected.  Card doesn’t work;  put in cash of a note and two coins but the price goes up; press cancel and receive the correct refund but all in coins.  Look for alternative parking.
There is a small aire in the centre of Ivrea which we expect will be full but we will try anyway.
After the gentle trundling of today Ivrea centre is like First Night at the Colosseum.  Tea time traffic is busy and impatient, lane markings are faded and roundabouts are not for stopping.  Then comes the old cobbled centre, rutted, undulating and uneven, totally unsympathetic to Mary*Lou’s soft and bouncy rear springs.  It’s like Biscay in a Mirror dinghy surrounded by whale sharks.

During one of the times gravity returns us to our seats we see the entrance to the aire and are relieved to see only three of its ten spaces are occupied.  We park and pour a beer.
Ali is heading for the nearby river but the Italian campers stop her and offer her tea, Darjeelng, while they practice a little English.
A huge French van comes and takes two spaces and before long its driver and the Italian are chatting like best mates.  Mme calls hm for ‘mange’ but he carries on chatting, beers all round.
Their chatter gets louder and more animated as the French beer lake is consumed then at 22:00 all goes quiet.
We are abed and asleep shortly after.

THE ROCKY ROAD TO - - - ROSCOFF?

It’s a nipsome 11C before the sun rises but soon feels warmer.   A football match is in full swing on the adjacent pitch as we prepare to leave.
We start as planned, along the main road with light Sunday morning traffic and views of the mountains we are heading for, but in Ugine we are confronted by Route Barre and Deviation signs and our day and route takes an unexpected turn.  The deviation takes us out of town on the D109 which the map shows as a scenic route but Snoopy illustrates as a plate of spaghetti.  With a jagged rock face on our right we climb steeply around the narrow hairpin bends with little view of what might be coming towards us.  On many of them we look down on top of Nick and Grete’s van as it approaches the bend we are leaving.  As we wind along  with precipitous drops on the other side a a log rail we occasionally get into 3rd gear.   Through the trees we get glimpses of mountain peaks and deep valleys.  We pull in wherever possible to allow traffic to pass, often getting a wave or toot of thanks.  Motor bikes overtake with impunity.

What goes up must come down and after a long time but only a few miles we start the inevitable descent, also rarely allowing Mary*Lou into 3rd, mostly holding tight in 2nd gear.  Finally, after ears have popped, we reach Flamet and have a white line in the road to guide us.
We stop in a layby for coffee, looking across green pasture towards wooden alpine chalets.  Fir trees range up the distant slopes and the white peaks stand out against blue sky.
The D1212, a main road, is still fairly adventurous and as we turn one corner and start down a steep hill there are fabulous views ahead with a layby just right for lunch.  Beside us small headed, mottled cattle graze with their bells clanking.   Ahead Mont Blanc towers in the distance, snow peak glistening, upper rock faces peppered with the last of the snow and bare rock slopes of tans and pale greens.  Way below is the town of Megeve spread out on the valley floor, traffic barely visible on the snaking road towers Chamonix.  Across the valley are little hamlets of chalets with pockets of green pasture and in other places swathes of forest have been cleared for the ski runs.
We set off towards Megeve buts it’s miles away yet and first we come into the little town of Praz sur Arly which the sign tells us is twinned with Roscoff.  We have to stop.  Unsurprisingly a ski resort full of wood chalet style buildings is nothing like our favourite stony Breton port but there on the roadside is a red and orange steel sculpture instantly recognisable as one of the series of 20 or so similar pieces set in Roscoff by sculptor Richard Brouchard.
Later we get through Megeve and onto a faster road towards Chamonix which is mostly on concrete piers and through a tunnel until we turn off for les Houches.  Our stop is just out of town on the edge of a lake surrounded by the mountain peaks.
We park and g to the lakeside cafe for a drink.  Across the park climbers are learning their skills on a steep rock wall.  One girl is only 8 or 9 but completely happy climbing then abseiling back to her dad on the ropes.

Walking around the lake gives us wonderful views of the mountains while silver birch rustle in the wind and the occasional  fish breaks the surface for a fly.
Ali, Nick and Grete walk away from the lake and about 2km into les Houches centre.
Nearly all the town is built of wood with only small stone detailing.  Ski rental shops are closed until winter, everything else shut for Sunday.  Timber balconies are decorated with flowers and most of the shops and cafes have icicle style winter lights hanging from their gables, it must look very attractive after dark.

We visit the Tourism Office and look inside the white chapel with its copper lantern style spire then as it chimes 6pm we make our way back to the car park.  With the sun going behind the mountains the temperature drops quickly from the 23C we had earlier.
Darkness falls as we enjoy our meatball and pasta supper.

SWISS ROLLS WITH ICING

We spend a bit more time with Graham and Helen from Salisbury and discover Graham is half Cornish and that they often visit our home area.
Today is going to be  short and leisurely journey along the east side of Lake Annecy, starting with a drive through the busy outskirts of the town.  There are scores of crossings and traffic lights for a couple of miles, always with the vivid turquoise waters to our right until we are at the top of the lake and turn south.  Traffic thins out, then before we get going properly a minimarket hoves into view at Chavoine, and it’s grocery time. 
From there the route gets increasingly beautiful with craggy mountains across the water, neat little communities, parks and tidy private gardens.  The road has climbed gently, almost unnoticed, to Menthon St Bernard, where there are plenty of shops and restaurants in the centre, but then descends steeply on a switchback until we are back at the water’s edge with only a cycle path between.  We meander along the edge enjoying the views and stopping a few times to take in the scene and record it with photos.
Near Angon we find a layby with superb vistas in both directions and pause for lunch. 
On the far shore houses are tucked under trees and appear tiny but their styling suggests they are really quite substantial homes.  Further up, the tree line gives way to rippled rock faces dappled with shadows.  A power boat speeds past with a water skier almost hidden in its wake and to the south parascenders launch themselves from high peaks, circling and gliding before lining up to land on a low paddock, their wings changing from shadows to fluorescent yellows and oranges as they catch the sun.  We wonder if this is the spot nephew Andy has told us is one of his favourite flying zones.
The road is well used; cyclists, motor bikes, cars and motorhomes all cruise past, then comes an elegant 1950s Rolls Royce Silver Wraith with a CH number plate.  Swiss Rolls, says Nick.
We continue lakeside for a few more miles before picking up a main road to Faverges and find the aire with mountains around it on three sides.
There is a Carrefour store with a laundry just up the road so A+G walk across to do some dhobi while the Nicks fix one of Mary*Lou’s brake lights, the bulb of which fell out on one of the many, many speed humps in the lakeside towns.
Ali phones and tells us to look in a certain direction and we will see……..  snow on the mountains!
We’re not sure, but we believe it might be the peak of Mont Blanc, and if it isn’t, well we plan on seeing that one soon.
In two days we’ve driven 29 miles.  If we go much slower we’ll get snow on the vans.  But if we go too quickly we’ll miss all of this beauty and that would never do.
We pour G+Ts, pop in their very own ice caps and settle for the evening enjoying the beauty around us.
As the sun goes down shadows form low on the bases of the hills creating myriads of colours in the trees and stone,  Pockets of the hillsides glow as if hit with spotlights while billowing clouds turn pink over the summits.  The distant snow cap turns ever whiter then starts to dapple with steely blue shadows.

Stunning.

STAR ANNECY

The occupants of the five vans that arrived just before midnight are all up early and gathered talking loudly in the car park this morning.  We service the vans and head for Annecy, stopping for fuel on the way.  Traffic is busy and aggressive but we find the large open car park in front of the Basilique.  NW goes on the motorbike while Ali Nick and Grete head down the steep roads to the old town.  We are amazed by the number of flower borders still in bloom as we make our way to the edge of Lake Annecy and meet Nick W.
Crossing the road brings us to the first of numerous little bridges that span the canal, all decorated with iron railings and flowers.  Pastel coloured buildings with shutters and bright awnings and tables and chairs line the pedestrianised area of the town as the restaurants prepare for service.  We find a table at a restaurant opposite the island and enjoy various salads and a bottle of rosé, which N+G insist is their treat.  Nearby the market is finishing and one by one white panel vans squeeze under an archway to load their stalls.
The old town is so picturesque; archways, narrow passages, crystal clear water in the canal, iron balconies and heavy stone construction around doorways.  Walls are plastered in ochres and pale greens and windows are geometrically and uniformly spaced.  Arcades shelter ice cream shops and souvenir shops.  After wandering around together for a bit, N+G  go their separate way and we agree to meet later.
It’s late season and nowhere is crowded or bustled like it must be in high summer.
We’ve wanted to visit Annecy for a long time and it’s one of those places that exceeds it picture postcard image.
Later we climb the steep hill to the imposing white stone chateau but the cobbled courtyard deters us from buying tickets to go in so we teeter our way back down the hill and go out to the lakeside.
As before, postcards don’t do it justice.  A range of high jagged mountains - white stone and green coverage - provides a backdrop to the turquoise lake.  Boats of every description flit across its surface, adding colour and movement, while others are tied alongside the promenade waiting for sightseers to board them.  None appear accessible.
The park is shaded by mature trees and most of the flowerbeds are finished but scores of people lounge on the benches and grass.  We meet N+G in the park and head back to town for ice creams, enormous and delicious!
By late afternoon the terraces are busy with people eating, drinking or having ice cream.  Ali and Grete visit a patisserie for some bread and nibbles for this evening, before we wend our way up the hills to the Basilique.
An English couple from Salisbury have parked beside us and we chat and exchange travel info.

LUNCH IN THE SAVOIE

The Robinsons [Swiss family] decamp and kit up to explore the bird park before we set off.
There is some rain, but our route from Villars les Dombes is beautiful right away as we drive flat roads between lakes, poplars and maize fields.
From Amberiue en Bugey the hills begin, with alpine houses clinging to impossible ledges high among the trees.  High terraced escarpments of ochre sandstone are partly hidden by low misty clouds.  We reach the old alpine town of St Rambart en Bugey.  A river runs right through the town in a canal or stone culvert, flanked with iron railings and flower baskets.  The buildings are solid stone, and there is a tall, simply built church.  We climb on out of town, past more rocks and trees  before descending into Tenay and meandering to Cluse des Hopiteux.  Shortly after, we see signs for a lake, lac de Virieu and decide to stop there for lunch.
Parked beneath tall maple trees, we look across an emerald green lake nestling in a rocky wooded bowl.   The autumn colours are rich despite the mist around the hills. Rings and ripples on the lake’s surface suggest the presence of big fish.  We joke that Nessie may appear at anytime!
Looking at the Aires book we find Annecy is small and sloping and 24 hour maximum stay so we decide to find something close but outside the town and go in early tomorrow morning.  We chose La Balme de Sillingy 8 miles from Annecy.
The route continues along the wide road through little towns of white stone and fields of sunflowers.  We cross the Rhone at Seyselle then Snoopy, accidentally programmed for ‘shortest distance’ takes us well off piste onto the D57 towards Droisy.  It starts steeply but there is a 16 tonne weight limit sign so we should be fine.  It’s never quite single track although the Hairy Bikers would ride line astern, but it’s very steep and very twisty with a couple of bends featuring nothing but sky beyond the tarmac.  We climb and climb and climb and climb, Mary*Lou’s new clutch doing its work, to the high point at Clermont, last of the tiny farming towns only just wide enough to pass through.  There are fabulous views but the lack of barriers focus the mind on closer horizons.  The descent is much easier on a wider road with white lines, but that is 3rd gear and frequent braking for the twiddly bits.
We rejoin the D910 at Frangy and then after descending some more we follow the valley floor to la Balme de Salligny and find the aire.
Once the clutch, brakes and nerves have cooled down.  Ali and Grete head to the tourist office to get info for Annecy, then go for a walk around the adjacent park and lake.  There are flowers, sculptures and little model houses and a fountain in the lake spraying fine mist high into the air.

A GOOD DEVIATION

The weir is rushing well this morning.  We plan our route avoiding Lyon and set off just as rain begins.
Grete says over the radio that their satnav is showing road closures on the N7 and sure enough as we exit the dual carriageway after Roanne we have deviation signs.  We pull  into a layby outside L’hopital de Rhins and set a different route.  Despite the rain it’s very attractive; from Perreux the D504 is a good two lane road with plenty of twists and turns and hills.  We pass Montagny, a beige town high on a hill, as are many of the towns.  Amplepuis is fairly busy then we are on some very winding woodland but still wide roads and occasional vistas towards the massiffs or alps.  Valsonne is full of pinkish buildings and there are still lots of floral borders around.
Lunch is in a quiet layby approaching Le Bois d’Oingt but shortly after we resume our journey, now in sunshine, we get stuck behind a tractor for 8 or 9 miles.  At Gleize on the outskirts of Villefranche sur Saone we stop for N+G to get fuel and Ali to get a little shopping then it’s a transit through the big town centre in busy traffic.
East of Villefranche the landscape opens and flattens with many maize fields, some vineyards and lots of epitome trees along the roadside.  We glimpse the chateau as we pass through Savigneux then on through the wetlands to Villars les Dombres.  A mile out of town is our nightstop in the car park of the bird wildlife park.  Grassy parking areas under shady trees.
After coffee Ali and Grete walk across to one of the lakes where they see flamingos and pellicans.
A Swiss family arrive and park opposite in their adventure wagon; a white four door Toyota pickup with rear canopy, bike racks, a deflated dinghy and a roof mounted tent.  The tent unfolds upwards and outwards with dropdown ladders.  Mum, dad and three children under five years play outside for a while then get into their second floor bedroom.

NICE RUN FOREST

We wake to heavy rain but it’s good to be travelling and there is no rush to get up.
Today we originally considered going to Villefranche sur Saone, purely as a convenient stop, but after breakfast we plan a route which will not take us as far but should be enjoyable.
The rain as we we leave St Eloy les Mines diminishes to showers as we drive through a mixture of woods and open farmland.
At Chantelle we stop to buy lunch from a boulangerie, pizza slices and sandwiches.  The town has some elegantly proportioned Napolenic houses and masons are constructing a complicated decorative wall near the boulangerie.

We eat our goodies in a layby near St Didier then skirt north of Vichy onto our scenic drive along the D25
It soon becomes apparent we are in a mountain region;  climbs and hairpins the like of which we haven’t seen since last year in the Pyrenees.  We run through deciduous woodlands and forests of tall firs, at times we are looking at the tops of firs with their trunks stretching below for a hundred feet.  Progress is leisurely as we go slow enough to enjoy the views which sometimes span vast expanses of lowlands towards more mountains.
Climbing steeply into  Chatel Montagne we pull in to view the huge Romanesque church across the valley. 

A noticeboard tells us it was founded by Romans in the 3rd century and the current structure dates back to the 1400s.  The Nicks drive the vans  around into the church square to let Ali and Grete walk across.  Around  the square are modern carvings of animals and fish.  Inside the church is a large skeleton clock in a glass case, with wires reaching up to high pulleys countered by enormous granite weights.  Unusually there is no stained glass but the columns are grey granite with Corinthian tops and roman arches.
We continue along the narrowish D25, never level, rarely straight, through beautiful autumn woods.  Nearing our destination we drive above the valley of the River Renaison finally descending into the town of the same name.  The aire is a quiet spot next to the river and a small weir.
Ali and Grete walk along to a wine shop at Domaine Desormiere, a small vineyard with vines on the roadside.  The grapes are very small.   During a tasting session the owner says they are ‘Gamay’ variety grapes smaller than usual from lack of rain, but good flavour and good wine next year.  They try four wines and buy a couple bottles each.  Not a France Passion but very enjoyable.

ON TOUR AGAIN

For so long all of our journeys have been mostly functional “commuting” to our house in France or shopping.  Even the times we have made “scenic commutes” we have been beset with mechanical issues.
At 14:40 we set off leading N+G on our first proper tour in nearly a year.
We immediately start to enjoy the scenery as we pass the lake and drive through le Grand Mothe.  The roads are bouncy but the scenery is colourful with autumnal trees and turning ferns along the woodland roads to La Souterraine.  The town is busy and there a few changes of direction until we join the dual carriageway for the next 38 miles.  We stop at Aire de Persac for coffee and a few miles later we join the D20 for a pretty conclusion to our journey.
The road is winding and full of ups and downs  through gorgeous autumn woods, past herds of white cattle and dry pebbly riverbeds.  There are rocky towns like Eaux les Bains.  We take a short break in a layby to settle everything down as Nick says he feels like Tigger has been unbounced.
Nearing  journey’s end we reach St Eloy les Mines but have to follow a deviation around town before we can get to the aire.  Ali and Grete go for a walk along the lakeside before they cook pork chops and saute potatoes for supper.
We are all tired and disperse just after 21:00.  Lights out comes soon after.

NEW READER WELCOME

Travels with our motorhome Mary*Lou.

We have been travelling since 2013, visiting much of Europe.

Previous travel diaries can be found at the following links:

https://www.offexploring.com/marylou

https://www.offexploring.com/marylou2015

https://www.offexploring.com/marylou2016

https://www.offexploring.com/marylou2017

https://www.offexploring.com/marylou2018

We hope you'll enjoy sharing our journeys.  Feel free to comment as long as it's polite.