Mountain passes, marmots, more of France

The mountains beckoned again and the Gran Paradiso National Parc in Italy rates well so we headed up one of its valleys for a couple of nights. The driving was on snakey narrow roads with rock overhangs jutting over our path. On the way Stuart had a ‘what if we don’t have enough diesel moment’. He had put a dribble in at the motorway service area. “Not paying those prices”, the gauge continued to drop the further we got from civilisation. Finding a local self serve pump saved sweat and worry. The aire was lovely with snowy mountains in the distance and a glacier-fed river running in front of us.

Camping spot 

Contestants in a 330km endurance race passed by us. None of them looked happy, leaning heavily on their walking poles. We followed some of their footsteps in a circuit walk that ascended 1000m and took about 5.5 hours across alpine meadows. On a scale of 10 it must have been a 9 for loveliness. I have done a few mountain walks and that one had all the criteria for a good one. There were lakes, waterfalls, small stone dwellings, clear pools of emerald water, house sized boulders, fat marmots, small marmots loping around calling to each other in a high pitched warning. The pleasantness evaporated a little on the descent through a coniferous forest which seemed longer than the ascent. The leki pole Stuart made me from a pine branch was a perfect for a cripple. 

In France, photo stop, spot the photographer

Gluttons for punishment, we packed up the truck after the hike and pressed on toward the French border, stopping just short of the Mont Blanc tunnel in our quest for a LPG refill. There was an aire near the Mont Blanc cableway so we stopped for the night. An almight icy blue and grey glacier hung from the side of this massive mountain and I craned my neck trying to take it all in. It loomed above the motorway thick with traffic. We had pizza at a nearby restaurant and emerged to find Chausson dwarfed by huge articulated trucks. The aire obviously doubled as a truck stop.

Never mind, everyone was sleeping, the drivers were up early though – warming up their diesel engines for an unseemly long time before setting off at 7.00am.

Top of the Petit St Bernard Pass

Perfect clear weather and roads graced us the next morning as we travelled over the petit St Bernard Pass to Bourg St Maurice in France. It was a real mountain pass with wide open windy spaces and ski lifts at the top. Mad people cycling and doing that Nordic roller blading thing. Lots of zig zags going down before we set off for a recommended camping spot near a little hamlet overlooked by Mont Blanc. It was perfect – no fees, beside a river, mountains all around, and a few others to share the spot with. We spent some time with a Dutch couple, a retired fireman and teacher Chris and Carla. Chris shared a file of the map of France he had created, something we will use for route planning.

Wooden marmot, border between Italy and France

Annecy

Others had told us Lake Annecy was worth visiting so we set off, again over another mountain pass. I can’t feel smug about New Zealand having great scenery after driving past the lakes and mountains of the French Alps, too perfect and unpopulated. Annecy is a very old town, the pre-Roman bits have been built over, as have some of the Roman bits, however there is a lot of sixteenth century architecture of covered passages and arcaded houses divided by the Canal du Thiou. Its clear waters move quietly past the petunias and begonias hanging from bridge railings. We had taken Howard and Hilda from the campsite to the town centre as the traffic and parking is OTT.

The weather is starting to turn in Europe, the season is coming to a close. We have seen notices of camps closing and the tourists are starting to tail off in the moutain areas and Stuart is hankering for some warmer weather. One campsite we arrived at had closed the day before, but it was up a long curved drive overhung with trees and a little stream. The large turn around spot outside it proved to be the ideal wild camping spot – ‘wild’ but close enough to walk into town, access to the dump was a bonus as well.