Sometimes the more you ponder, the more there is no real answer
Tuesday 21st June 2022
Today we had more cunning plans that didn’t happen. We farewelled our nice pitch under the trees, after we had hit one of said oak trees. There are many things in life worth avoiding and one of them is an oak tree. We reversed out of our pitch onto the pitch behind and neither of us remembered that there was a small oak tree in the middle of that pitch! Rodney now had a bike with a buckled back wheel, dang! Mine looked okay, but the tears were prickling behind my eyes and there was nothing we could do, so we drove out of the campsite at Banon. The next shock was putting ¾ of a tank of fuel in Reggie and paying €109.48, about $165.00 for 52.15litres. Ouch.
After Sisteron, we were driving through the wide Durance Valley and on either side of us were rows and rows of apple trees plus a few other fruit trees, all under miles and miles of white netting. A sign informed us that this section of the D1085 was the ‘Route de Fruite’, very accurate for sure. “I’ve never seen so many apple trees” declared Rodney. Then I declared “we’re not supposed to be on the D1085 ‘Route de Fruit’, when did you turn off the D942?” Did we turn back to Tallard, 16kms behind us, or anxiously take the wiggly D3 ? We took the latter option, Rodney doesn’t like turning around, and it was a brilliant decision. We drove through a spectacular steep valley with a lake, tunnels, hairpin bends, craggy peaks and towering dark mountains. It was a very good result from our second mistake of the day.
Whilst eating our pique-nique lunch, just south of Briancon, the wind picked up the dust around us and then the clouds started to dribble, but the temperature still hovered around 30C. We re-checked the rest of today’s intended route, but the GPS now insisted that we drive via Bardonecchia, which we knew we couldn’t do, due to restrictions in the tunnel on that route. So I went back to my trusty Michelin French atlas and we chose to go via the Route des Grande Alpes. The showery rain turned to just a few dribbles as we drove through La Salle les Alpes. The Tour de France is apparently going through here on 13th -14th July; yet again we have missed being in the right place at the right time.
The views kept getting bigger and better; we could have taken hundreds of photos, even though the sky was so overcast, but it was time consuming and we were already looking like we wouldn’t make it to our planned destination.
By the time we reached the Col du Lauteret at 2058metres, it was refreshing to see ‘green’ and the air was so much clearer after the rain. Wildflowers hugged the roadside and in fields beyond, and the temperature dropped to 19C. Meanwhile I ran out of exclamations. But after the Col du Lauteret (2 star), we couldn’t get over the Col du Galibier (3 star) because it was closed for two days. Another cunning plan foiled. We considered camping up there for the night and waiting until it opened the next day. But then we thought about the fact that we were in France which might mean that it might not open tomorrow.
So we pushed on further through Le Grave and the Combe de Malaval, which again turned out to be a good decision. Tunnels, waterfalls and steep sided valleys enthralled us all the way to the Lac du Chambon. The road then changed again to a very steep-sided gorge studded with trees and we were clinging half-way up to one side of it.
At 5:30pm, tired and with cricked necks from looking up most of the day, we pulled up stumps at Le Bourg d’Oisans. After checking in for one night at Camping Coleporteur, Reggie displayed the transmission warning light again; this was definitely a better place to break down…… on a campsite driveway! Thankfully, after sitting and waiting in the rain for ten minutes, we managed to get Reggie to move to a pitch. When the rain had stopped after dinner, we walked into town to stretch our legs and to see if we could spot a bicycle repair shop in another ‘Tour de France’ obsessed town full of people in lycra and helmets.
Wednesday 22nd June 2022
We were both a bit glum when we woke up, having spent the night with nightmares about oak trees and woken by globules of rain bouncing on the skylight in the early hours of the morning. Plans were made and changed numerous times regarding Rodney’s bicycle. In the end we decided to go to one of the cycle shops in town, and if it couldn’t be fixed quickly, we would donate it to the shop for parts. We would then buy Rodney an E-bike somewhere, sometime. At 9:30am the rain, that had been on and off all night, stopped and by the time we drove round to the cycle repair shop, the sun had come out and clouds were lifting up the sides of the mountains. The mechanic looked at the wonky wheel and said “no, it cannot be fixed”. He didn’t think he had a replacement either. But, oh my goodness, he found one and quoted a reasonable price for the wheel and the work. Appreciating the fact that my more expensive E-bike was undamaged, we then decided to be sure to be sure, and unstrapped my bike to check it was okay. It looked fine, but it wasn’t. My back wheel was knocked out of alignment and the brake was stuck against the wheel rim. Fortunately, Monsieur Mechanic said he could knock the wheel of mine back into place and have them both back in working order before he closed at 7pm. We both put a smile back on our faces and decided to go for a drive to see more of the spectacular scenery surrounding Le Bourg d’Oisans.
The road up to the Col du Glandon was amazing. At the first of the three reservoirs we had to drive two hairpin bends up the dam wall and then drive across the top of the dam wall. After that it was a “wow” at every bend. We didn’t count cyclists today, there was just too much spectacular scenery to look at. The wide-open valley at the top was covered with lush green grass and wildflowers. White clouds created patterns which moved across the slopes and the sharp-pointed peaks behind.
We then drove round to the Col de la Croix de Fer and walked up to the trig point. There were layers and layers of mountains as far as the eye could see. It felt like we were on top of the world and it was the second day in a row with a brilliant picnic spot. The clouds built up while we were eating but the drive back was still very special. Fantabulous!
Approaching the village d’ Articol, we spotted smoke amongst the trees very high up to our left, so we stopped in the village and I pointed it out to a man in a van. He looked up, saw it, said “merci”, pointed to a badge on his jacket and said a few more “mercis”. We drove on hoping the badge meant he was a fireman and that it wouldn’t turn into a large fire in such a beautiful place.
It was too late to move on any further north, so we checked back into Camping Coleporteur for a second night and waited for our bikes to be fixed. Annoyingly they never did get fixed, so we went out for dinner at Restaurant La Romanche and hoped our two wheelers would be ready in the morning. Hey, this is service in France……
