Internetted at the local tourism office and researched my onward route through the Jura mountains. I found a halfway decent map and had a steak lunch at the shopping centre before leaving at 2:30. I walked along the Haut Saone canal for a few hours to Nammoy. No accommodation there so I caught a bus to Beliancourt and got a room at the Bristol Hotel. Bristol was apparently an English noble who travelled a lot in the 19th century. I spent my first night in Kuwait in 1973 in the Bristol Hotel. I've been plagued with them ever since, although luckily the one in Beliancourt was not next to a mosque.
Tuesday 12 June - Point de Rode
Some confusion in my diary. Was it really me in Pont de Rode, or was it some other walker? I made a bad choice for a hotel and found myself on a tiny but busy border crossing into Switzerland. I observed that I was eating a quiche lorraine in Lorraine. The local war memorial had about 50 names on it. Eleven named Gresson died in the First World War. There was a least one left: he died in the Second. I noted a wood on the map called Le Bois Banal: the banal wood. Was there any connection with La Rue Quatre Banal in Thionville? I could not resist some fantasizing. I remembered books from my childhood by Enid Blyton. After The Famous Five and the Secret Seven could there be a gang called The Banal Four? I wanted to be the leader.
Some confusion in my diary. Was it really me in Pont de Rode, or was it some other walker? I made a bad choice for a hotel and found myself on a tiny but busy border crossing into Switzerland. I observed that I was eating a quiche lorraine in Lorraine. The local war memorial had about 50 names on it. Eleven named Gresson died in the First World War. There was a least one left: he died in the Second. I noted a wood on the map called Le Bois Banal: the banal wood. Was there any connection with La Rue Quatre Banal in Thionville? I could not resist some fantasizing. I remembered books from my childhood by Enid Blyton. After The Famous Five and the Secret Seven could there be a gang called The Banal Four? I wanted to be the leader.
Wednesday 13 June - Trevillers
Six and a half hours in indifferent weather took me to Trevillers. A lot of traffic through town but very well regulated. I was impressed with the way huge trucks squealed to a halt at the pedestrian crossings. In fact it seems that pedestrian crossings are observed punctiliously in France. You have to be careful standing near them because all traffic comes to a halt even when you dont't actually want to cross. The valley of the Daubs is too narrow to permit a bypass. Brolly gave up the ghost. The telescoping mechanism could not cope with the constant use. We had been through a lot together: I had backtracked for two hours to recover it on the Luxembourg-German border. No commando ever had a more useful piece of kit. But I was ruthless about dumping it in the nearest bin. Fortunately while Trevillers was little more than a busy village it was also, for good reason, the brolly capital of the western world. I was directed to a shop selling handbags and such where I asked for an umbrella.The assistant was something of an expert and showed me a fine spring-loaded number but it was too heavy. I chose a lightweight one and was issued with an official warning that it could not be expected to cope with heavy winds or showers.
Thursday 14 June - Biaufond (Switzerland)
A day of smug self-congratulation. I congratulated self on purchase of Brolly II - it had a workout. Congratulated self on finding exquisite footpaths along the river and over the hills. Congratulated self on performance of new shoes, perfectly comfortable in the wet. Eventually I had to walk down from a high plateau towards
A day of smug self-congratulation. I congratulated self on purchase of Brolly II - it had a workout. Congratulated self on finding exquisite footpaths along the river and over the hills. Congratulated self on performance of new shoes, perfectly comfortable in the wet. Eventually I had to walk down from a high plateau towards
Friday 15 June - Viller-le-Lac (France)
Saturday 16 June - Le Gras
Sunday - Monday 17 -18 June - Pontarlier
Tuesday 19 June - Jougne
Wednesday 20 June - Source de Daubs
Thursday 21 June - Bellefontaine
Friday 22 June - St Cergue ( Switzerland)
Saturday 23 June - Sunday 24 June - Thonon-les-Bains
Monday 25-Tuesday 26 June - St Gingolph
Wednesday 27 June Chalets de Bise
I made an early start from St Gingolph where I discovered I had officially embarked on la GRAND TRAVERSEE DES ALPES and had a steep walk up a narrow wooded path, through some tick pastures to Novel where I had breakfast of chocolate and stale bread and a chat with Lois. Then half an hour's walk through woods so soggy my glasses fogged up. Then the walk got very steep indeed. I was climbing a mountain! I had somehow thought I could get through the Alps valley to valley without great exertion. This was not the case. After an hour I experienced some doubts over the whole enterprise. Would my smoke blackened lungs see me through? Would I be paralysed with vertigo? I had to stop for the occasional breather but luckily the path though overgrown was dry. The scenery was magnificent but I stopped appreciating it, looking longingly back at occasional glimpses of Lake Geneva.
After 3 hours I could see figures on the horizon - Col de Bise. I hauled myself to the top and all was forgiven. I was looking down on a huge green valley, steep sided and ringing with tick bells. There was some snow but none on the path. There were some day trippers who had climbed up from the valley but no-one on the path behind me. There was a long steep but easy walk to the valley floor 500m below. There were a couple of small farmhouses and decrepit outbuildings. The Club Alpin Franรงais refuge occupied the upper floor of one of the farmhouses. It was unlocked and unattended but clean inside with bunks and blankets. A girl from the farm was very apologetic: it seemed the toilets were locked and I would have to make do with the cow pasture. I was perfectly happy. I bought a lump of cheese and, after they had milked the cows, a litre of milk. I spent a couple of hours wandering the lowlands and checking out the next day's route, had a supper of the can of beans I'd been carrying since Pontarlier and a perfect night's sleep alone in the refuge. That was what I'd signed up for!
Thursday 28 June Chalet de Trabentaz
I had breakfast of cheese, three day old bread from Thonon and the last of the milk The milk didn't taste any different to any other milk, even though it was entirely untreated, but at least I had seen it extracted from the cows with my own eyes. I made an early start and a couple of hours later I was over another col and studying the map over a beer in Chapel d'Abondance, another ski resort. Half an hour on a quiet D road then I had another two hour lung buster up a steep path to Chalet de Trabentaz. No showers but plenty of water and beer. Madame was very welcoming. She pointed out my path for tomorrow: relatively gentle slope for half an hour or so and then what looked like ( to my cowardly and vertiginous gaze) a vertical assent over an intimidating patch of snow. "It's easy", she said. "I saw you coming up, you're a strong walker." I choked on my cigarette. I'd come up like a snail but I was grateful for the encouragement.
The chalet was satisfyingly isolated. The nearest motorable track was way down below. Supplies were brought up on kilometre long cable, a sort of winch powered flying fox. The owners bring their sheep up from their farm in Chatel every summer and used to send the milk down to be made into cheese. But none of their three sons wanted a career milking a hundred sheep by hand every day and now the sheep were bred for meat only. I wasn't hungry but forced down as much dinner as I could. There were eight of us in the dorm, including a little baby the father had carried up in a special backpack. It was very quiet after ten, except a little gentle snoring. I didn't know if my snoring was gentle but nobody said anything.
Friday 29 June - Refuge de Chesery (Switzerland)
Climb up to col was relatively easy as promised except the last few metres which were a bit of a scramble. Then I had a huge sloping prairie all to myself and the wild flowers. A couple of hours later I began to run into day hikers and found myself at the Col de Bassachaux. I had some lunch at the restaurant. The guidebook said it was 3 hours to Col de Chesery but a signpost said 50 minutes. An easy day. I dawdled over lunch and dawdled down the track. I was in full scale winter sports country with a spider's web of skilifts all around.
I stopped to watch mountain bikers and other suicidal types do their stuff. The mountain bikers take ski lifts up the mountains and then come hurtling down the tracks. There was some sort of special event on and hundreds of riders were enjoying the perfect weather. I only saw one ambulance.
I was the only guest at the refuge and had agneau d'alpage (mountain lamb) for dinner. Shower for an extra 2 euros.
Saturday 30 June - Refuge de la Golese
Had to share the track with mountain bikers for the first half of the day. Amazing where they go but I only ever saw them coming down. I asked a group of English riders if it was as terrifying as it looked. No, no. The biggest fear was the damage to expensive gear. But one at the back of the group, maybe a beginner, rolled his eyes and nodded his head most emphatically.
I got lost and added an extra couple of hours, mostly uphill, to my walk. I was passed on the track up to the col by two youngish men walking at a very fast pace. It was hot so I filled my hat with snow and made no attempt to keep up with them. I found them taking a breather at the col. They were on a two day hike and heading for Samoens. They passed me again as I was going down and up to the next col. Twenty minutes before the refuge I found one of them lying at the side of the track, prostrate with exhaustion. He had lost all strength he said. His friend had left him to it. Clearly a competitive friendship. I stayed with him until he was ready to walk again and then accompanied him to the Refuge de la Golese, where his smirking companion was drinking something cold.
After 7 hours hard work I gave up the idea of going on to Samoens and got a place in the dormitory at the refuge. Best meal in the mountains so far, and thankfully not ham but pork. The refuge is a large modern chalet, different from a hotel only in that accommodation is in dormitories. There was a four wheel drive track up to it so it was relatively easily supplied.
Tuesday 19 June - Jougne
Wednesday 20 June - Source de Daubs
Thursday 21 June - Bellefontaine
Friday 22 June - St Cergue ( Switzerland)
Saturday 23 June - Sunday 24 June - Thonon-les-Bains
Monday 25-Tuesday 26 June - St Gingolph
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| Lake Geneva from St Gingolph |
Wednesday 27 June Chalets de Bise
I made an early start from St Gingolph where I discovered I had officially embarked on la GRAND TRAVERSEE DES ALPES and had a steep walk up a narrow wooded path, through some tick pastures to Novel where I had breakfast of chocolate and stale bread and a chat with Lois. Then half an hour's walk through woods so soggy my glasses fogged up. Then the walk got very steep indeed. I was climbing a mountain! I had somehow thought I could get through the Alps valley to valley without great exertion. This was not the case. After an hour I experienced some doubts over the whole enterprise. Would my smoke blackened lungs see me through? Would I be paralysed with vertigo? I had to stop for the occasional breather but luckily the path though overgrown was dry. The scenery was magnificent but I stopped appreciating it, looking longingly back at occasional glimpses of Lake Geneva.
 |
| Refuge in the shade of Col de Bise |
I had breakfast of cheese, three day old bread from Thonon and the last of the milk The milk didn't taste any different to any other milk, even though it was entirely untreated, but at least I had seen it extracted from the cows with my own eyes. I made an early start and a couple of hours later I was over another col and studying the map over a beer in Chapel d'Abondance, another ski resort. Half an hour on a quiet D road then I had another two hour lung buster up a steep path to Chalet de Trabentaz. No showers but plenty of water and beer. Madame was very welcoming. She pointed out my path for tomorrow: relatively gentle slope for half an hour or so and then what looked like ( to my cowardly and vertiginous gaze) a vertical assent over an intimidating patch of snow. "It's easy", she said. "I saw you coming up, you're a strong walker." I choked on my cigarette. I'd come up like a snail but I was grateful for the encouragement.
Friday 29 June - Refuge de Chesery (Switzerland)
Climb up to col was relatively easy as promised except the last few metres which were a bit of a scramble. Then I had a huge sloping prairie all to myself and the wild flowers. A couple of hours later I began to run into day hikers and found myself at the Col de Bassachaux. I had some lunch at the restaurant. The guidebook said it was 3 hours to Col de Chesery but a signpost said 50 minutes. An easy day. I dawdled over lunch and dawdled down the track. I was in full scale winter sports country with a spider's web of skilifts all around.
I stopped to watch mountain bikers and other suicidal types do their stuff. The mountain bikers take ski lifts up the mountains and then come hurtling down the tracks. There was some sort of special event on and hundreds of riders were enjoying the perfect weather. I only saw one ambulance.
Saturday 30 June - Refuge de la Golese
Had to share the track with mountain bikers for the first half of the day. Amazing where they go but I only ever saw them coming down. I asked a group of English riders if it was as terrifying as it looked. No, no. The biggest fear was the damage to expensive gear. But one at the back of the group, maybe a beginner, rolled his eyes and nodded his head most emphatically.
I got lost and added an extra couple of hours, mostly uphill, to my walk. I was passed on the track up to the col by two youngish men walking at a very fast pace. It was hot so I filled my hat with snow and made no attempt to keep up with them. I found them taking a breather at the col. They were on a two day hike and heading for Samoens. They passed me again as I was going down and up to the next col. Twenty minutes before the refuge I found one of them lying at the side of the track, prostrate with exhaustion. He had lost all strength he said. His friend had left him to it. Clearly a competitive friendship. I stayed with him until he was ready to walk again and then accompanied him to the Refuge de la Golese, where his smirking companion was drinking something cold.
After 7 hours hard work I gave up the idea of going on to Samoens and got a place in the dormitory at the refuge. Best meal in the mountains so far, and thankfully not ham but pork. The refuge is a large modern chalet, different from a hotel only in that accommodation is in dormitories. There was a four wheel drive track up to it so it was relatively easily supplied.
