KatieTheKat

Part 1: Paris to les Alpes

I arrived tired. Somehow I managed to make it to the hostel at which I was to meet up with Brenda on only vague recollections of metro station names and an address. I was relieved when Brenda arrived that, like me, the first thing she wanted to do was to take a nap. The extra few euros for a non-dormitory room were entirely worthwhile for that hour and a half of much-needed rest. Later, feeling much refreshed, we headed into town to buy a couple of CDs for the road, to eat some fantabulous gelato (I forgot how good it can be, as I hadn't sought out gelato in Montreal nor had I - amazing though it is - eaten much in the way of ice cream for close to 2 weeks), and to chat before our dinner rendezvous with Ian and Melinda. It was great to see a distinguished-looking Ian and a very pregnant Melinda. Dinner was very tasty indeed -- particularly the perfectly pleasing potatoes (no, that is not what they were called on the menu).

The next day Brenda and I used some Velib bikes. It is a great system! Bikes were available all over the place. We pedaled along the river in the hopes of picking up a few treats for the road at a morning Marche, but unfortunately it was no longer morning by the time we got there and everyone had closed up shop. Instead we found an open grocery store (rare on a Sunday here in Europe) and picked up a few things there for a picnic in the park. The marinated artichokes from the deli were pretty tasty but failed to satisfy a growing craving for a REAL artichoke that started while discussing favourite foods with friends in Montreal. Finally it was time to pick up the rental car and to experience the thrill of driving out of Paris... which was rather disappointing really. It wasn't particularly difficult, even after missing a turn and having to invent our own route out to the Peripherique. Well, there was that point when I had to reverse to avoid taking the wrong onramp - but there was hardly any traffic and it was certainly the manoeuver that any real European driver would have done. The rest of the day consisted primarily of driving driving driving. I also realized that I had forgotten to buy any travel insurance prior to leaving Montreal and started to have some concerns about that fact. Brenda had the brainwave that I could probably just buy it directly online, and it was that thought that led us to dine late in the evening at a fast food joint somewhere between Lyon and Grenoble. Apparently the majority of McDo's in France have free WiFi, and we were hoping we might find the same service at the Quick we stopped at. This was not the case. Though I must admit my tandoori chicken sandwich didn't taste all that bad.

Though dinner was quite late, it was not the end of our adventures for that evening. We spent a considerable amount of time in the quiet streets neighbouring the fast food restaurant practising Brenda's standard driving skills. By the time we figured out which highway we were supposed to be taking to get to Grenoble it was very dark. And it was then, after performing an about face after taking a wrong turn, that we had the incident of the headlight-flashing. It was a large blue-and-red truck. We passed it, following the speed limit, and it started to flash its headlights at us. At first I thought maybe it was just bouncing a little on the road (I have been deceived by this perceived headlight-flashing before). But the road was smooth and straight and still it continued. Brenda and I worked through a list of possible reasons: speed - too fast or too slow? no - we were going about the same as others; lights - not on? nope, they were definitely lighting our way in the front, and I could see a red glare on the road behind us in the rearview mirror; something on the roof? no, surely not; maybe something was sticking out of the trunk a little? I thought I had checked for that when we last stopped. We started to get anxious. We scoured the instrument panel for a clue as to what might be wrong. We started to imagine that we smelled our engine smoking. I decided to pull over on the shoulder so we could take a look at the outside of the car. The truck passed by without transmitting any further information about why he had been flashing us. We could see nothing amiss. We began to suspect that the truck driver was playing mind games with us. Maybe he was just bored. We hopped back on the road and soon passed the truck again. AGAIN, the flashing headlights. Now we were really quite concerned. We pulled in to the next rest area for a thorough inspection of the vehicle. When I went to get out, I noticed, as I had noticed at our last stop though I had then dismissed it as being unimportant, that the car was beeping at me in the same way it does if the headlights are left on -- and yet, the headlights were off. FINALLY, the clue we needed. I looked through all of the buttons and switches and eventually found one that, if I pressed it, stopped the beeping. The symbol on the button looked like it had something to do with lights, but neither Brenda nor I recognized it. Brenda stood behind the car while I pushed it a few times, but she saw no effect. We pulled out the instruction manual and, though it did not make it easy, eventually found that this button in fact controlled the "feux de brouillard" - the fog lights. We were finally able to resume our route. I think we both harboured a hope that we would pass the same truck again just to show him that we finally figured it out, but that was not to be. By the time we found a campsite at the edge of Grenoble, we were both exhausted and quickly fell asleep.

The next day we had a pretty late start. We had some supplies to acquire. We did, in the middle of the day, find a McDonald's where we borrowed some Internet access in the parking lot and I bought myself some travel insurance. Just in case. We had a beautiful drive through the mountains in the afternoon. We made it to the parking lot near the small town of Abries near the French-Italian border probably around 7pm. From there we started our hike, but the map wasn't entirely making sense until we realized that there was, in fact, a farther parking lot (the one we thought we had parked at) - but given we had already covered half the distance, we left the car where it was. It was dusk by the time we reached the actual trailhead, and we didn't get very far before we were in desperate need of a stop for a sandwich (we hadn't really eaten since breakfast that morning, other than a few little snacks in the car). We ended up camping that first night on a grassy patch on the banks of a roaring stream. We were still about 4km from the actual route of the "Tour de Mont Viso" which we were planning to hike.

next installment: the hike itself, and how a loop became a figure eight.