Mountains and Wine
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Seems like a lifetime ago that I last updated you all, yet it has only been two weeks! We've done so much and there are so many photos! (Maybe I should start a gallery page on here?)
We Left Les Deux Alpes on a very hot Sunday morning and wound our way down the mountains and out toward Grenoble. We had wanted to try and see the city where arguably, the French Revolution started in the 18th century. The city wasn’t looking promising as far as places to stay were concerned however, and we had sort of forgotten how to handle bigger cities during our mountain exploits. That being, park in an outlying village and catch the train in.
As such, we weren’t really aiming for anywhere in particular, potentially we would end up in the mountains north of Grenoble for the night and maybe have to miss out on the city itself. But then I spotted one of those handy brown signs they have on major roads here in France. This one advertising the Chateau de Vizille, now home of the museum of the revolution!
Of course! It wasn’t actually in Grenoble that the Revolution started, it was at an assembly at the chateau de Vizille a short way south of the city of Grenoble. We’d completely forgotten this and so ignoring the sat nav, we followed the signs to Vizille.
After a good half an hour trying to figure where to park, we then spent the best part of a very, very hot day wandering around the grounds and the unexpectedly vast chateau museum (with notably skewed versions of events exhibited) and ended the day with a very large ice cream in the grounds.
Having walked back to the van we hit the road once more to go up into the mountains north of Grenoble. However, after some scary tight and steep roads through the northern suburbs of Grenoble and up into the mountains, the fuel gauge was dropping a lot faster than predicted. We had to make the decision to turn back and find fuel, as there were zero petrol stations up here. If we had continued then we’d have run the risk of not making it back down into the valley.
Weaving back down, we eventually found fuel in a small town east of Grenoble and then continued up the west ridge of the Isere valley to a large but essentially empty park up along the hillside high above the valley near a tiny ski resort that I can’t even remember the name of.
The next day we wound around the north of this ridge south of Chambery and up into the mountain range we had attempted the day before. This time approaching from the north and up into the village of Saint-Même.
Here there were some recommended walks up to some Cascades/Waterfalls that Ellen had found in our trusty Lonely Planet guide. The shelter from the sun provided by the towering pines was small respite considering the steepness of the climb, we were sweating regardless by the time we reached the top. The spray from the cascades were very welcome as a result. That evening we headed back down a short way in the van to a forest park up over night away from most people for a well-earned, quiet night.
The next morning, scorching hot again, we headed back down into the Isere valley and to an Intermarchè in Montmèlian. It was one of the Golden Geese of stops. Laundry facilities, groceries, bins and a van wash. The van was in dire need of a wash by this point, plus you can dump the grey waste at the same time! (A trick you have to use in the U.K. with its terrible campervan facilities). After a few hours milling about doing bits and bobs whilst the washing did its thing, we then headed onward up the Arc valley toward the Col de Cenis, an ancient route into Italy across the Alps.
The route up the first half of the Arc valley is not exactly the most picturesque part of the alps. It’s pretty industrial, a lot of quarries lining the sides of the valleys. However that changed as we reached the forts of L’esseilon.
We had to pull over and have a look at the lowest of this line of defences, “Redoubt Marie Therese”. A fascinating place and it also turned out we could stop here for the night! Which was handy as by the time we were finished in the museum, a storm had begun to roll in. Much rather not be driving in that! Even better was the light was amazing as the storm died down and I managed to get a rather moody photo of the Fort above, "Fort Victor-Emmanuel".
We continued onward the next day into more pleasant surroundings. After a brief stop in Lanselbourg-Mont-Cenis for some more wine & bread etc. we then headed up to Lac de Cenis. Once traversed by armies throughout history, as late as the Second World War, this ancient pass had been flooded and now housed a hydroelectric reservoir. The only hints of its former importance being the fort that overlooked the dam below.
That afternoon, whilst Ellen went for a hike up into the surrounding hills, I cracked on with my day skipper mock exam. Which went swimmingly I may add.
After a cracking sunset and picturesque morning, we headed back down the way we had come so as to continue along the Arc valley. We stopped for lunch at a camping car park and to do some services and then onward. The next hurdle was to be the immense, winding, 2700m high-altitude pass of the Col d’iseran. This would take us literally over a mountain, driving our monster van past the terminal stations of ski lifts and then back down the other side, into the aptly named ski resort of Val d’isere situated at the source of the Isere Valley.
A long windy drive took us down through the high end resorts and finally into Bourg-Saint-Maurice. As we had just passed through we had to turn back into the town. Ellen was feeling a bit ill from being a passenger the whole drive on those windy roads and we needed to cut it short.
We pulled into the only half decent looking spot in the town but it was short lived, if only for a couple of hours. The car park felt like an encampment. A group of noisy permanent residents in old truck conversions had fenced themselves in a gravel area and were playing loud music and letting their dogs run around off-leash and harass other people’s dogs. After a couple of French campers and motorhomes left, so did we.
A quick dash to the nearest McDonald’s as it was now dinner time and we wouldn’t get time to cook. Then Ellen, feeling much better by this stage, drove us on to an Aire near the edge of the La plagne ski area “paradiski”. Montalbert is a beautiful little resort village. Quiet and safe. We even ended up staying two nights at the free aire, parked on a precipice with gorgeous views across the Isere Valley.
After a couple of chill days we left Montalbert and headed round via Moutier and then south east down the next valley to the south. (Sort of heading back on ourselves). Off this valley spurred the 3 valleys ski area. At the end, a fourth valley contained the hiking resort of Pralognan-la-Vanoise and access to the Vanoise National Park. Ellen was in paradise, she had earmarked the Lac du Vache a while back and now she was finally getting to go. I jumped on the ski lift up to the start with her and whilst she set off on a multi-hour hike in the park, I headed to the refuge bar for lunch, which in my defence, I did follow up with a short walk up the path toward some waterfalls!
We didn’t stay the night here, but instead headed back along the valley and via Moutier once more. A quick Carrefour stop for supplies and then onward north through Albertville, and on to a little ski resort called Crest-Voland. The route here from Albertville has made it onto my list of must-see bike tours, I just have to come back here on the motorbike. Dense pine forest in narrow, deep, twisty gorges weaving alongside the rapidly flowing Arly torrent.
A not so quiet night was spent here however. There was a wedding at the restaurant at the top of the lifts a short way from where we were parked up. This meant cars were speeding past us along the gravel tracks until 5am! We’re pretty insulated in the van, but in the dead of night, that close… yeah it’s pretty loud.
The next day, feeling shattered after a poor night’s sleep we prepped ourselves with a hearty breakfast of bacon and eggs. Then set off toward the north east, Mont Blanc and, ultimately, Chamonix.
Obviously the road toward Mont Blanc is spectacular, I don’t feel like I need to explain that! Just see the photo...
In Chamonix we found somewhere to park for campers in the bus station which had a handy route to walk into town. Chamonix is obviously very touristy, it’s been a tourist attraction since the 1920’s when the railways opened it up to the world. But, it’s touristy and not much more in our opinion. The cable car up to the Mont Blanc viewpoint is extraordinarily expensive and rammed full of people. So we both agreed we’d rather spend the money on something else, especially with another storm closing in.
We left Chamonix after a few hours spent here and headed up out of the alps and toward Geneva. Before reaching the Swiss border however, we headed west. Here, overlooking the Rhône, (yes, we’re back at the Rhône again!) we found a nice spot to see out the end of our 2 weeks in the Alps. Tucked in the hills with the pass in the mountains behind us where we had left them behind.
Then, it was straight onto the toll roads for the long slog to Beaune (pronounced Bone) and an Aire with temperamental paying systems. Sometimes the barriers were open, sometimes you needed a ticket to get out. It was all luck of the draw. We got there in good time though and Ellen checked in with work that afternoon for a few hours.
The next day we walked into Beaune in the rain to visit the wine capital of Bourgogne (Burgundy). Here the famous Hotel de Dieu hospital and its marvellous coloured tile roof stood. The hospital being an innovative idea for its time. Free healthcare for the poor financed by a wealthy local couple.
After the Hotel de Dieu we headed to the restaurant “Ma Cuisine” in the village for some delicious traditional Burgundian food. The Bœuf Bourgogne here is excellent and despite two other attempts since, none surpassed this first round. After a stop at one of the wine merchants to add some more bottles to the van horde, we headed back for a quiet afternoon hiding from the rain back at the van.
Another morning in Beaune and the sun was shining once again as we wandered in for the morning mid-week market for a couple of bits. Then back to the van where I had to now sit my day skipper exam whilst Ellen walked to the supermarket nearby to do the laundry and some food restocking. A rather fraught exam lead me to believe I may have failed, but we had planned to get the train to Dijon for the late afternoon so I had to pull myself together and get ready.
Dijon was immediately gorgeous and the vibe was fantastic, chill, not too busy but lively all the same. A great distraction from the impending exam result, we followed the Owl walk. This is a series of brass arrows stamped with an owl and laid on the ground leading you round the sights of the city. It made exploring very easy, as we didn’t have to add to the usual van life decision fatigue by figuring out where to go. Instead we were led down various tight streets lined with half timbered buildings and later additions. Halfway round, we stopped at a cocktail bar and before we ordered I received an email. I had passed the exam! Well, we were now in the perfect place to celebrate! Mojito time!
After cocktails we continued the owl walk and eventually stopped for dinner at the Michelin guide “Bib Gourmand” listed DZ’envies. We weren’t blown away to be honest, bœuf Bourgogne number 2 had lovely pull-apart beef but the jus was too thin and lacked much flavour. The service was fast but we weren’t that impressed with the food generally speaking. We also made the mistake of being the only people eating inside! At least it wasn’t expensive is all I can say.
We had some time to kill before our train back to Beaune so went for a wander after dinner again. But then Ellen noticed we had been marked by a pickpocket as we walked past a bus stop. We took a couple of turns and confirmed the guy was following us. We took a quick last minute turn down another street toward busy bars and looked back and saw him stood there pretending to be looking around the street. Yeah we spotted you pal. We took another turn out of his sight and into a busy bar to wait it out. A bit of a shitty way to end the night, but it can happen anywhere and you just have to be alert.
The next day we left Beaune and headed south along the wine road and stopping at the lovely village of Meursault. Here we had a little tasting and bought a few bottles from the Cave of Domaine Bernard Delagrange et Fils after a walk around their gardens.
We grabbed a bite to eat in the village after ward (bœuf bourgogne number 3, ranked 2/3). Then we were eastward bound, back into Jura to work our way up toward Alsace.
We stopped for a brief overnight at Pont-du-Poitte near the riverside and then in the morning headed north to Beaume-Les-Messieurs near the famous Chateau Chalon and the home of Jura’s Vin Jaune (yellow wine).
We didn’t stop overnight here, instead after a wander round the village, we pushed onto Arbois. Famous not only for it's wine, but also for being the hometown of Louis Pasteur! However, we could not park anywhere and just restarted to the supermarket outside town to figure out what to do. We decided to contact the campsite in town and just ride out the bulk of the national day celebrations here.
Subsequently we spent this past weekend wandering around Arbois, joining the Celtic music festival and having a very nice meal at Restaurant Les Arches the next day. The latter involved my finding a beautifully light and fruity Trousseau red wine. Though, it would turn out it was not an easy one to find elsewhere as I was to find out the day we left. But that’s one for next time!
