Switzerland and France

The train ride from Luxembourg to Geneva is really beautiful even with foreboding grey skies threatening rain. It stops in beautiful alpine villages and towns like Interlaken and Basel small and charming among the backdrop of the steep, pine covered mountains. Laurence (Lolo) met me at the train station. She was as friendly and warm as I remembered, making me feel welcome immediately. Laurence is very much into all things organic and healthy and has her own line of soaps, lotions and shampoos that she makes without any chemicals. Her flat is on the third floor of the soap factory, filled with plants, decorated in earth tones with furniture and items collected over the years from her travels in Africa yet had a distinct European flair. I loved it and it was home for the next six days.

One of the things I like best about Lolo is her energy. In the Chilean desert she and I kept a similar pace whether walking or cycling. However, overall she has a lot more energy than I do and even though there are only four years between us, I found it difficult to keep up with her all day long. But what fun we had! We cycled along the canal and Rhone River to Lac Leman a.k.a Lake Geneva where she bought me lunch of delicious Swiss specialities which involved bread or potatoes and lots of cheese. We went for spectacular hikes in the mountains, took in a castle, toured tiny, traditional, alpine villages, went to awesome hot springs surrounded by the Alps with a speedy snail pool and another that played classical music that could only be heard when your head was under water. In return, I helped her in the soap factory and at one of the picturesque markets where she sold it. The evenings were filled with too much food, Swiss cheese (meaning cheese from Switzerland, not hard, bitter, hole-y cheese) and Swiss wine (who knew!). It was a great time! Lolo said she was sad to see me go so we made plans to meet in a week in Lyon for the summer festival. But first I was off to Nice to see my honey.

The last three weeks leading up to Nice, Clay and I talked most everyday on FaceTime. He was occupying a lot of time in my head. Feelings were mutually strong and we were both very much looking forward to being together again. Our hotel was on the promenade and he had reserved a top floor hotel room with a large balcony. I showed up dirty with matted, sweaty hair and bicycle in tow. I love checking into fancy hotels looking like something the cat dragged in. It's my subtle way of reminding people not to judge a book by it's cover. But other than the doorman who didn't like me parking my bike inside, they seemed unphased. Nice is nice, on the azure Mediterranean Sea. The beaches are small rocks, painful to walk on without shoes despite their smooth, roundness. The town is easy to navigate, filled with beautiful parks, wide shopping streets, an abundance of restaurants and infinite tourists. Clay arrived the following evening. We had 43 hours together. We made the most of it: drinks and dinner on the hotels' rooftop terrace restaurant with a great view of the promenade and sea, walked hand in hand through the cobblestone streets with their lace-curtain windows, exploring the cafés, parks and churches. We ate pizza in Cannes and I sipped pink champagne in Monte Carlo. Clay enjoyed all the docked yachts and schooners but I loved the casino best. It is breathtaking! €10 just to walk in but it's worth it. And a peek in the high-roller room made my jaw drop. Unfortunately photos are only allowed in the morning so the best I could do was take a few of the lobby. I know Clay and I must be kindered spirits--we are probably the only couple that goes to the French Rivera and never touches the beach! Just as I am probably the only person who goes to Florida and comes back less tan than when I arrived.

During our last hours together Clay picked up his son from a nearby hotel who had spent the last two weeks travelling in London and France with a school group. When we parted they were going to continue travelling for another two weeks through Eastern Europe. So the three of us had breakfast together then Clay treated us to a Segway tour of the city. I'd never been on one before and at this point in my life there aren't a lot of things that I haven't done so I really enjoy something new. Once I got the hang of it it was a blast!! A fun way to spend our last moments together so when we parted no tears were shed. There were also no doubts that we would see each other again.

I continued alone onto Cassis via train. Research showed that about half the route was on busy roads and I wasn't too keen on that, especially since we had seen a woman laying in the road in Cannes that had just been hit by a car while on her scooter. There may be an alternate way but it would have to be through the mountains and that wasn't going to happen either. It seemed like such a great idea at first but the reality was the bike was becoming more of a burden than joy. I had to buy a bike bag to avoid paying extra fees on the train but it made the bike very cumbersome, started to rip and gave me bruises on my legs from where the bike kept banging into me. Not to mention it was entirely too hot to be riding, hauling 17 kilos. On the downhill from the Cassis train station the Panniers got caught in the spokes and ripped open and broke a spoke. I didn't worry about it at first, choosing to enjoy the lovely hostel and this charming town on the Mediterranean. I watched the sun set from atop the mountain, hiked to the first three Calanques, splurged on a fish dinner and strolled through the market. After three days, leaving my bike and bags at the hostel, I caught my BlaBla Car ride to Lyon to meet Laurence.

Lyon is like Paris but better; smaller, fewer people, easy to navigate and it even has it's own mini Eiffel Tower. It is also home of Antoine de Saint- Exupery, incredible murals, Roman amphitheatre ruins and Basilique Notre Dame de Fourviere--one of the most beautiful churches I've ever seen. I met Laurence there for the summer festival. Lyon celebrates the first day of summer with music on literally every other corner. Every genre of music can be heard and the streets are packed until midnight, even on a Sunday. But this was Friday, our first night there, and we had been invited to a party on a boat. So there we were, at one o'clock in the morning, dancing to '80's music played by a DJ in the hull of the boat on the Rhone River, the same river we rode our bikes along a week ago in Switzerland. We left at 2:00 because I couldn't stay awake any longer and I was amazed at the queue of people waiting to get on. My home for the next five days would be in the Croix Rousse district where her friend lived in a small one bedroom apartment. I loved it though...it was a real French apartment! The pull-chain toilet, beautiful moulding in the living room, tiny refrigerator, solid wood doors and flower boxes in the windows. It was also in a great location, literally around the corner from the daily market. We went a little crazy our first day there buying about €70 worth of organic fruit, veg, olives, cheese and bread. I still managed to need something from there every morning...usually olives. :-) Lyon was a wild time...saving the details for the book...and I left feeling even more conflicted. I loved meeting Laurence's friend and her friends but I also decided I'm kinda tired of this. Besides, I've become disenchanted with France and perhaps Europe in general. It is very expensive, every meal I'd splurged on was mediocre, the French no longer hold the title for fashionable, and again, the entire country seems inundated with tourists. It was hot and with few exceptions, I really wasn't meeting people at the hostels. Not to mention, as crazy as it sounds, so many beautiful churches, art pieces, cool museums...I am getting burned out. I miss my mountains! Backpacking through Patagonia was such a different experience...I really miss it!

I stopped in Avignon on the way back to Cassis. A charming walled town that was built by the Pope at a time when there were two Popes. Nine Popes in all lived there and built a Palace for themselves that was certainly not modest or austere. Now however there is little to do other than eat, drink, shop and take photos. I was a week too early for the three-week long theatre festival that draws hundreds of thousands of tourists and over a thousand performances can be seen. Instead I found a small museum that housed some Van Gough, Mattise and Cezanne paintings among others. And another that was a home filled with period furniture and accessories.

Back in Cassis I relaxed for a few days since I'd already seen and done everything. I read a book, relaxed by the hostel infinity pool, got my panniers repaired and worked on my journalling and blog posts. Twice daily I'd walk into town to buy groceries or an ice cream, peruse the disappointing shops then go back to the hostel. It was very hot, there was no way I could cycle through France in this heat. Plus the Belgian post office never delivered my backpack to the hostel in Biarritz so I had another problem on my hands. Sweltering temperatures or not, I resolved to ride the bike to Sete where I would meet Graham. He would take the bike back then I was off to Spain. After all, The Running of the Bulls in Pamplona is a bucket list item!