From Belgium we headed into the northern part of France. We cut across above Paris and headed south towards the French Alps. On the way we stopped in at the memorial to Australian soldiers in WWI. Next was a brief stop in Champagne. The actual region is quite small and despite it being a local holiday we found a winery open and proceeded to have a long but stilted chat in French with the owner who was the 3rd generation to farm the same land.
Next we headed down to Burgundy for some more wine tasting and a nice half day ride through the chateaux and vines. We also took a quick look at Dijon and got the gas struts for the rear hatch on the car fixed. It was all done quickly and promptly but it was a surprising thing to fail in a three week old car.
We camped that night in the beautiful old village of Meursault. Centuries of wine making had endowed it with a series of elegant Chateaux and we wandered through it in the evening before dinner.
Up early the next morning we headed for the mountains. We went through the pleasant lakeside town of Annecy and just made it to Chamonix by late afternoon. It wasn’t a promising looking place to stay as it was cold, windy and raining when we arrived. We got a weather forecast from the tourist office that promised better conditions tomorrow so we decided to stay. After putting up the tent the clouds started to break so we went for a spin on the bikes and watched as the veil lifted from the peaks around the town.
The next day dawned clear and bright so we headed for the gondola. We planned only to go part way up but as it was so clear we locked our bikes and talked our way onto the telecabine up to the peak. The views were magnificent – Mt Blanc was just across the valley and the surrounding peaks were sharp in the clear morning air. We got talking to the telecabine guy on the way down and contrary to what we had been told at the tourist office it was possible to take our bikes all the way up. So with his help we took the next cabin back up – this time with our bikes. A scenic fireroad descent followed and by the time we got back to the valley 1000 metres below our hands were cramping and I had toasted my front disc brake pads.
We jumped in the car (after a farewell croissant) and headed over to Switzerland and then over the Simplonpass in to Northern Italy. We started looking for a campground near Lake Maggiore but by now it was August and peak holiday season. We ended up in a pleasant hotel right on the lake and ate on our balcony enjoying the great views over the lake.
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