Nearly Normal.

At last I have good news!  I think my knee is nearly normal, and how good that feels!

As I told you previously, I caught the bus to Vercelli, where I was booked into a hostel.  I nearly cried when I found I had to walk close to 2kms out of the town to get to it, but resignedly made my way there.  I am so thankful I did, ignoring the temptation to stop off at a hotel and pay the bank breaking prices required!  In the last post I said that I had a feeling that it was odd accomodation, and how right I was!

The sign on the outside of the Vercelli Pilgrim's hostel.

When I got there I was greeted by Angela, a real character.  A chain smoker, glasses so thick that I couldn't see her eyes, though she could read my passport number with them, and wearing a pink T shirt, not only inside out but also back to front.  This was a hostel (true pilgrim accomodation) like no other!  In the foyer of the building, next door and attached to the church, Angela and a man were sorting "things" - I was whisked upstairs so quickly that I didn't quite figure what it was they were sorting - food or clothes, or both.

The building was a convent or monastery in a former life, and it was perhaps still because there were obviously some people still living there.  It was HUGE.  I followed Angela down a long black and white tiled corridor to the pilgrim accomodation which consisted of 2 rooms with a double bunk in one and 2 in the other.  She called for translation assistance from a fellow pilgrim who spoke English and then painstakingly wrote down all my details.  Then pilgrim Frederico, a young man from Milan, took me on a tour to show me the bathrooms etc.  The clothes washing facilities were a short walk away, just around  the corner in the next corridor, but the body washing ones were a water bottle hike at the other end of this long corridor.  This corridor was filled with furniture, so much so that one would think it was a second hand shop - "Vinnies" eat your heart out!.  Some of the pieces of furniture were quite lovely, while others were very kitch.  Every nook and cranny was crammed with "stuff", and I have no idea for what purpose it was there, though Frederico made use of one of the sofas during the night when he could stand the roar of the snoring of one of the cycling pilgrims no longer!

I went next door to the Church and had a lovely sing, only to find that I had a large audience when I turned around.  Frederico tells me he recorded me and he was off to Colombia for a deal!  Because of my singing one of the nuns (at least I think that is what she was) took us aside and opened the chapel for us.  There were frescoes inside dating back to the 1400's.

Some of the frescoes in the little chapel dating back to the 1400's.

Frederico and I compared injuries and he produced some mircale gel that he used for tendonitis a few days ago.  He shared it with me and after 3 applications of it I could walk with relative comfort, though I now had to find some for myself as we parted ways after brekky.  Brekky was provided by Angela, and consisted of dry bread rolls and biscuits, olive oil, but no butter - it wasn't good for us - and either melon jam or Kiwi jam with cafe!  I skipped the olive oil!

Vercelli is really quite a beautiful city.  I really liked the Cathedral, which is more modern - only a few centuries old, and is very grey and white, making it quite light and airy, despite all the marble.  It looks a bit odd from the outside because it still has the original square tower and then the more modern bits added.  It was obviously undergoing some form of restoration as there were 6 lots of scaffolding with 8 different people that I could see, scraping, patching and painting among other things.  It has a very beautiful silver leaf Cross, made around the year 1000, hanging in the centre nave.  It had to be restored after some vandals tried to steal it some twenty odd years ago, which is why they can date it with some accuracy.

The tower is the oldest part of the Cathedral in Vercelli, the more modern part is the domes behind the tower - a real mix of styles!

The inside of the Cathedral

By contrast the St Andrew's Basilica was much older, not undergoing restoration, and built from red terracotta bricks.  This church too is large and airy and appealingly plain.  The cloisters were particularly attractive.

St Andrew's Basilica - from a distance, the cloisters, and the interior.  

After my wander around Vercelli I then caught the train to Pavia.  The train was a little one carriage one, stopping at all the little stations along the way - collecting and offloading school students along the way.  For me it was reminiscent of the little red hens winding their way through the hills, the difference being that this one wound its way through the rice fields, populated by herons and other water birds.

I had to follow my direction finding instincts (which were pretty accurate) to find the tourist office.  They were helpful in finding the hostel for me.  This is a wonderful new hostel for which I paid  20€ a night.  Last night I had the three bed room to myself but tonight there is another young girl from Rome sharing it with me.  She is here for a big conference being run over the next 4 days called "The Crossroads of Europe", which has all sorts of interesting things happening, much of it about pilgrimage and the Via Francigena.  

Sadly, a number of buildings, such as the Cathedral,  are having work done on them and so I won't be able to go in.  This is a city with many interesting differences to the others that I have visited.  The piazzas a not very large, the streets are quite long, though the one thing that is the same is that they are narrow and windy, and unlike towns like Aosta there does not appear to be many seats for people to sit on - other than the restaurant chairs!  I have walked across the reproduction Covered bridge a number of times as it is on the way to the hostel.  Reproduction, because the orginal was destroyed several hundred years ago by fire.

The Ponte Vecchio - the covered bridge in Pavia

As I was walking to the hostel yesterday a man stopped me and chatted about the Via Francigena.  I was told to follow him, and when I hestitated (I wasn't quite if that is what he had said) I was told firmly "come, come!".  I dutifully followed him, crossing the street at his command, looked up to see a little angel on the side of the building.  He then took me to show me the name of the street and told me that many walking the Via Francigena don't look up and therefore miss this little delight.
 


Taday I had lunch in one of the larger paizzas.  I had "the menu" - a set menu for €10 with about 3 choices.  I had ordered what I thought was pasta salad - which was warm pasta, not what I would call a salad, and then pizza - or so I thought!  What I got was a beef schnitzel with a tomato topping and fried cheese!  All very nice, and all part of the fun, and I might get it right by the time I get home.

I have now bought cream, which has an ingredient called "Devil's Claw" in it, and is the thing that is really working at getting my knee cleared up!  I have walked into town today almost pain free, and have had several rests.  All of this augers well for when I meet Carol and Elizabeth tomorrow and for when we all set off on Saturday.  The only snag is that I now feel very unfit.

Still trundling along with Napoleon!

I caught the bus from Aosta in order to rest my knee.  I deliberately chose that mode of transport because it more or less follows the path of the Via Francigena and indeed I actually got off at several villages and then caught the next bus.   I was constantly seeing the Via Francigena signs on one side of the road or the other.

I hadn't realised it, but the Valle de Aosta, the valley through which I was travelling was actually a glacial valley - though when I thought about it it made complete sense, because I had already noticed how steep the sides of the valley were and how flat the floor of it was.  The Balteo Glacier cut a swathe 5 kms wide and 600 metres deep through this region, and with the snow capped mountains behind the valley sides it makes a very picturesque sight indeed. 

The Valle de Aosta, from the Bard fort - flat floor, and steep sides.

Note the haze.   

Leaving the city of Aosta, the sides of the valley are soon taken over with terraced vineyards, similar but different, from those on the shores of Lake Geneva.  These vineyards seem to be far more precarious. The vines grow up on a vertical trunk, reasonably high, then splay out horizontally on a wide wooden lattice, one end of which is supported at the front of the terrace by conical stone columns.  The vignerons use the terrace stone in this area to help with the growing of the vines, as it absorbs heat during the day, and releases it slowly at night, thus keeping the soil warmer for longer.

I stopped at Pont St Martin to admire the Roman bridge.  This is a single span bridge built by the Romans in the years 142 - 22BC!  It spans the Lys Torrent - note that it is not the River Lys! This is quite a fierce river as the blue / green water bubbles its way down from the mountains to the even bigger Dora Balteo Fiume.  Saw fellow "Pilgrim Steve" here for a chat.

The Pont St Martin, with the Lys Torrent flowing underneath it.

Unfortunately, there was a haze throughout the valley which made photos rather unimpressive.  In fact it seemed to swallow up the mountains, making them almost invisible. 

I decided that rather than stopping again at Bard I would go into Ivrea and then come back the next day.  Bard has a fortress - a VERY impressive fortress at that, and it was one that I wanted to spend some time in.  This was where I came across Napoleaon again!  It was here that, for 14 days in May 1800, 400 men with only 20 cannons managed to hold off Napoleon.  I presume They eventually got overtaken, but not a bad effort nonetheless.  There is a bulding near the fort that still has cannon dents in it! 

The fortress at Bard

The house next to the fort, complete with gunfire damage - don't think ti would be standing with today's gunfire damage! 

My experience of Ivrea was interesting.  The tourist office booked me into a hotel which was VERY odd.  The man locks it and then goes to his residence on the other side of the building.  I didn't understand at first, but the phone he showed me in my room was for me to call him to come and let me out!  We really had a communication problem - I didn't understand that (and didn't like it either!), and then when I told him - so I thought - that I didn't want breakfast I got a call to say it was ready!  Needless to say, I had an evacuation plan ready if needed!  Yesterday I spent the whole day lying down trying to rest my knee and he kept calling me to tell me that if I wanted to go out I had to dial 9!  I kept telling him I was reposing, but he didn't get it!  Today when I tried to pay with a credit card he didn't take it and I had to ferret around to get enough cash to pay him.  I was thinking very dark thoughts about the place, but then, when I went to leave he presented me with a special pen, showing me proudly that it has a pull out calendar, and then shook my hand and gave me a kiss goodbye.  I then had to try and lighten my dark thoughts!  

A cobbled stairway in Ivrea, with the cobbles worn flat from the traffic going over them.

Tonight I am in Vercelli, again with strange accomodation again I think - have yet to see it, but I am beginning to think "this is Italy", and am trying to go with the flow!

Aosta

What can I say about Aosta?  This is my first big Italian town and thus far I have been most impressed.  The people here seem to be multi lingual.  I was served by a waiter the other night who chatted about all sorts of things with me in English, he then served the people next to me and did the same in French, and a little while later I heard him switch to German, though not quite as fluently.  In between I could hear him talking to the locals in his very fast native tongue!

This is a city that has a long history.  I have already told you how Napoleon crossed St Bernards Pass (but I didn't tell you he had 40,000 soldiers and 5,000 horses in tow), but before him Hannibal crossed - with his elephants!  The Romans were here long before them, and probably the celts before that. There are many Roman monuments here, and there is an active archeological dig going on every day, right in the centre of town, which passers by stop and watch. 

The Cathedral in Aosta

One of the Roman monuments

There are a number of churches and a Cathedral - all very different from what I have seen previously.  There are a lot of frescoes in sight, and the churches have a lot of stone / marble in them too. 

A frescoe in the Cathedral

The people are wonderful.  I have had a lot of help - from the man who sold me a new pair of walking shoes today, to the Lory at the laundromat who rode her bike home to pick up her car to drive me back to the hotel, because my feet were so sore!

Here in Aosta I have companionship too.  As I was walking to my hotel on the first day the first person I saw was fellow pilgrim Steve, and we passed each other a number of times in the few hours he was in town.  Then, last night, I had the pleasure of the company of a former Via Francigena pilgrim and his wife.  They come from Perth, and Jim was showing Angela some of the territory that he walked through last year. Jim has filled me in on a few things - such as the limit for the ATM machines, how to catch the ferry on the River Po, and what adapter works for the battery charger!  Very useful stuff!

The Italian people like to go out at night sitting and chatting, dressed in ther best.  In Spain this is called dar un paseo, and I think that it is called passegiata in Italian.  I have just passed a group of people sitting outside and one of the blokes had a button accordian entertaining his friends. 

A street in Aosta, with the people starting to congregate. 

There seem to be pizza shops and gelati shops everywhere, and the locals (I assume they are locals because they have dogs in tow!) walk along munching on them just as much as the tourists!

I must fly as I am meeting Jim and Angela for dinner.  Tomorrow I am going to take the bus on the same journey that I would have wlaked:  I am hoping that my new shoes will settle in and that within a few days I will be able to walk freely again,.  Today I am much better than yesterday, so if I keep improving I will be right for walking again very soon!

Like Napoleon .... I crossed the Alps!

I am now in Italy, having walked, bused, trained, and travelled by boat!  I am stiff and sore from the steep mountains that I have ascended and descended, and unlike Napoleon I did the last part on foot - I think he had access to a horse for some of his adventures! 

Leaving Martigny Bourg was the the start of the assault!  Following the guidebooks advice I caught the train from the next village for the 10 kms of dodgy path.  Dodgy, because it was advised that one needed to be agile, and by no stretch of the imagination can I be said to be that, especially at present!  I arrived in Sanbrancher to a race of some sort.  I say of some sort, because people were obviously running, though many had walking poles with them.

 This village, and most of the villages to come, were examples of very old Swiss villages.  Here again I got lost.  Again not because of the guide, but because there was a barrier across the path.  My translation of what the sign said was something along the lines of "do not enter here, on pain of torture!" Obviously I didn't want that, and so I retraced my steps and went up the mountain to another village. Only to find that I was further away from Orsieres than I was originally!  The road was exceedingly quiet, and so when a car came along I put the thumb out and got a lift down the mountain.  My driver was very keen to tell me that there was bus to Liddes if I wanted to catch it.  More fool me - I should have taken the advice!

Sanbrancher

The narrow path which changed from this ......

.......to this!

 The first part of the path was steep, but pleasant enough.  The last part though nearly broke me.  It should have been a narrow path through a shady forest.  Yes, it was narrow, yes it was through forest, but no the forest wasn't always upright.  I think that there had been many tress cut down through forestry, but there were also trees that had fallen down.  It was a real obstacle path, and part way through I became rather fearful, as I slid on my backside around tree stumps, hoping that I would not slide further down the slope to the raging torrent far below me!  No one knew I was on that path, and I had seen no-one on it either, and so I was especially careful as I negotiated each obstacle.  I was absolutely bushed by the time I got to Liddes and decided that I wasn't going to hunt for a cheap room, but would take the first one I got. Fortunately it wasn't too expensive, only 56 francs, and it included breakfast. 

I crossed Alpine pasture .....

...... and raging mountain streams!

The next day was the final assault!  I left reasonably early, debating about taking the bus to the first village 6 kms futher on, however I really wanted to walk it and so I did. I walked through lovely mountain pasture lands, with trees on the steep hillsides around the valley, and lovely alpine flowers in the meadows.  The temperatures were pleasant for walking - warm but not too hot. After Bourg St Pierre the ascent really began in ernest, first passing a big dam, and then the tunnel entrance that goes through the mountain into Italy.  I climbed to, and walked through a  high alpine pature land passing a fascinating old farm house.  It was just after this that I found my first snow, though I had been surrounded by snow on the mountains above me.  This was snow that I had to walk around or through.  Fortunately I was able to walk around it fairly easy which brough me out onto the road which I then had to follow all the way to the pass.  The path was mostly under snow, and so instead of having only 2 kms to go I had the hardest 4 kms I have ever walked. Hard, because of the steady climbing (the road was a real zig zag), but also hard because by that time I was very sore - with a painful knee and painful feet.  

On the last 4 kms climb!

I have arrived!

I walked those last 4 kms through walls of snow.  I had to keep stopping not only to draw breath, but to admire the extraordinary views before me, and of course to take photos!  The road was closed to vehicles, and so I did not have to worry about traffic, but that also put the option of hitching to the top out of reach! There was obvious signs of avalanches near the top, and in fact I had to walk through a small gap that had been cut in what must have been one.  At times I was walking through walls of snow several feet taller than me.  The road was in the process of being cleared and except for the avalanche it was clear all the way to the hospice. 

What can I say about the Hopsice at Gran St Bernard Pass?  Anything I say would be an understament. The care and attention I received when I got there were wonderful.  I was told to sit down and had a jug of tea put in front of me and told to relax.  Then dinner was served (there were about a dozen guests that night), and following that I was wisked off to the infirmary where a Anne-Maire gave me Arnica pills and gel for my aches and pains, and she dressed the bad blister on my right foot.  After that the priest carried my pack up to the 4th floor where I had a room to myself, and after a hot shower I collapsed into bed with a luxurious feather doona and a lovely feather pillow.  I stayed there 2 nights in order to recover, before descending.  The motto of the hospice and the monks / priests who run it is "Here Christ is fed and loved"  - they live up to that.  

Looking at the Hospice from the Italian border.

Most of the guests had walked from the start of the tunnel, though Matilde, Michael and their little 2 year old Charlotte, had driven as far as the second air chimney for the tunnel and parked there.   During the rest day I had at the hospice there were people coming and going all day.  Some passing through on their way down the other side, and some who had just walked from the tunnel to come up to the Hopsice, have lunch or a cuppa and go back down.  It was in the aftenoon that I saw another (Texan) pilgrim - Steve Cooper.  We chatted for a while sharing our experiences, and when he gave me his card I realised why I recognized his name.  He is the authour of "Six Months Walking the Wilds (of Western Europe)".  He was quite surprised that not only had I read it, but owned a copy which was loaned out regularly!

I only went outside to take a few photos, but the beauty of the place is extraordinary.  The surrounding mountins were covered in snow, and in fact the main entrance to the hopsice is on the first story, because in the winter the ground floor is covered in snow.  There is a lake in front of the hopsice, most of it still frozen, and the road form the hospice to the Italian border was still blocked by snow.  There was a hive of activity about the place though as this weekend (June 2nd) the road is open for cars, and so the workers were out in force clearing the road, and replacing windows in the restaurant and hotel etc - all of which close for the winter period.  The people who live in the hospice live there all through the winter, just on the off chance that they are visited by cross country skiers etc.  The only way in and out is by ski or, I guess these days in an emergency, helicopter. 

Napoleon ordered that a tombstone be built for his friend General Desaix, who was killed in one of the battles, and he chose to desginate "as its guardians the friars of St Bernard".  This tombstone was carted to the pass by mule carts "each cart being trained by 30 mules"!  The manager of this event said that the road was "only 2, 3, 4 or 5 feet large, and it had slopes of 45 degrees, coasting frightful precipes".   This tombstone resides in the foyer of the hospice, along with a massive granite plaque - and a lovely grandfather clock! 

About to begin the descent.  The beanie an jacket soon came off and the sun hat on!  I had to walk/ stumble through the snow on my Left side (that's where the road is) for about 500 metres, sometime sinking into it up to my knees and once faling over - quite tricky getting up as there is nothing hard to push against!

Just because I was over the border the snow didn't vanish!

Eventually though the grass started to appearand the mountains grew more distant. 

That descent has left me with aches and pains in muscles I didn't know I had!  It took less than half the time to get down the same distance that it had to get up, though I had just as many stops to admire the view - of where I had been, and where I was going!  It was when I got half way down the mountain and found that my knee was too sore, that I decided to hitch to Aosta where I have been for the last 2 days. I have to give my knee and foot time to heal properly and so I am going to have to bus it for a few days, otherwise I will not be able to keep up with Carol and Elizabeth when they arrive! 

A propostion declined!

I am not complaining, but now I have a knee that is caput!  I have been nursing it, rather unsuccessfully, for the past week, which is why there have been bus, train and boat trips, as well as walking, in my journey across Switzerland. 

The church in st Croix

In an effort to keep moving I caught the train from St Croix into Lausanne.  Here I met another pilgrim, Giogio, form Rome.  He was just beginning his journey and was very fresh, though like me I think he was a bit dissapointed that there was no one at the cathedral to speak to us. 

A view of Lausanne from the Cathedral

I was not in the mood for a big expensive city, and I didn't have the fitness to travel back and forth from the suburbs so that I could stay somewhere cheap and so I decided that I would follow my guide books advise and travel by boat along Lake Geneva to Villeneuve immediately rather than stay in Lausanne.  Travelling on the boat meant that I got to see the landscape from ground / lake level, and I must say that I was rather glad I made that decision.  This boat trip follows the coast of the lake, and from the boat one can see the terraced vineyards of Lavaux.  This land was originally owned by the church but gradually the state took it over and sold it to enterprising farmers who terraced it and turned it into vineyards.  It is intensive farming at a high level.  Vineyards are nice to walk through for a while, but these vignerons don't waste land by planting trees for shelter - it is all vinyards and it would have been VERY hot walking through it!  The whole area is now a UNESCO world heritage site.  It is also a very expensive tourist region!  This is where Charlie Chaplin, among other famous people, lived out his days and where the Nestle factory was established. 

Just some of the UNESCO protected terraced vineyards!

I managed to get a hotel for 55 francs that night, and though I had to share a bathroom, my room was like a palace, a double bed in a room large enough to hold 2 more!  What was especially nice was that it was just across the road from the church and so I could hear the clock strike all night!  Being on the road means that I miss such luxuries as chiming and striking clocks!

Again thinking of my feet I decided to catch the bus for a little way up the road and then walk - except I got lost!  I spent so much energy walking around in circles that I decided I had none left to walk, when I eventually found the path (it was my own fault I might add - not the guide book!) and so leapt on the train to St Maurice. 

One of the signs decorating the town of St Maurice - ready for the festival. 

I drew the short straw here too, as there was a festival on that weekend (I was there on the Thursday night) and so the Abbey where I wanted to stay was booked out, which meant that I had to go to the Fransican hostel.  It was here that the Swiss attention to detail was in evidence.  The room was very simple (at 50 francs), but there was obvious attention to little things.  This is a place used as a conference centre and so people needed security of possessions.  I couldn't work out how to open the cupboard for a while, and when the handle came off in my hand I thought I would try putting it back and turning it - lo and behold it opened, but if I shut it and removed the handle, it was locked!  Nifty detail I think! 

The tourist offic eassisted me in getting a room in Martigny - but she failed to tell me that it was in the next part of the town (Martigny Bourg), and because this was the first day I had walked the full day for a while, I was a bit shattered and so failed to see some of the things in the town.  I did however get to see the Roman Amphitheatre, and the outside of the Dog Museum!  I didn't see the St Bernard dogs, but I could hear them barking!  This is the town where they live in the winter time, only going up to the pass in the summer.  They are no longer used as search dogs because, according to my excellent guide book - they are too heavy to fly in the helicopter and too hard to train - German Shephards are lighter and easier to train. 

This was also the town where I was propositioned!  It still brings a smile to my face.  I stayed in a B & B here, and thought I had it to myself as no-one had put in an appearance when I went to bed at 9.30.  I left my door open and had the tele on when a bloke came in.  I sat up, had a bit of a chat, and told him he could turn off the tele but he wanted to watch it so shut my door and off he went.  A short while later there was a knock on my door and I responded with "oiu" - though not in the imperious way that french woman manage to say it - and he opened the door and asked if I wanted him to stay!  The exchange was brief - "No!"  " No?"  "No!"  Even now the comedy of the situation brings a smile to my face, though needless to say, I sneaked out of bed and quietly locked the door after that! 

Into Switzerland ......

As I was leaving Pontarlier I chanced upon a notice explaining about a fire that destroyed one of the absynthe distilleries in the 1730's (it also destroyed other buildings at the time too).  Anyway, one enterprising employee, realising the risk of an explosion, emptied the containers of  absynthe into the River.  Downstream at Ornans they had free aperitifs for a day or so!  This was how they discovered that the River Loue which flows through Pontarlier and Ornans was actually part of the River Doubs system which, if you remember from previous posts, flows in a big horseshoe bend around most of Besancon, because several days after their free drinks in Ornans, the river Doubs smelt strongly of absynthe too!

This area of France is known as the French Comte and is famous for it's clock towers.

  

I had wild thoughts of catching a bus from Pontarlier, There had been steady rain all night, and very heavy showers at breakfast time and I had thoughts for my poor feet!  After waiting though for 20 minutes for someone to come to the counter at the station I decided that I could walk it anyway!  And I did - except for the last 4 kilometres.  The first part of the walk wasn't the most pleasant as it was along a busy road, but the rain had stopped and just as a heavy drizzle started I arrived at a bar and stopped there for a hot chocolate. 

One of the sights on the road from Pontarlier - a wayside chapel

It was here that the walk really became enjoyable.  As I was walking up the hill my views were of lovely pine forests (not radiata though!!!!) ahead, and when I stopped to look back I could see the chalet perched high on a hill on the other side of the valley.  This, though I didn't stop to look at it, is now a museum of ancient weaponary.  I could hear the birds singing, and best of all I could hear the little streams running, and a couple of little waterfalls.  It is such a novelty for some Australians (probably most) to hear running water in the fields. 

I stopped near the top of the hill for lunch at a little layby area.  On one side of the road I had a herd of brown and white cows all watching me eat, and behind me was another herd all busy eating.  I didn't even have to look to know that because there was a cacophony of cow bells ringing the whole time!  I was still some kilometres from Switzerland, but the bells were well and truly sounding. 

This was the day that I saw my first ever ski field - no snow though - only the brown and white cows grazing on the grass. 

Crossing the border was interesting.  Though there are no longer any border guards, the cars still have to slow down and drive through a covered area - presumably so that in the old days the border guards were protected as they checked documents.  It was here that I noticed my first signifcant difference - the road!  There are narrow roads in France, but usually there is some kind of verge that you can at least stand on to avoid oncoming cars, but not here.  The road was narrow, and I had to be very careful when stepping to one side that I didn't continue down the slope.  After dealing with these conditions for a few kilometres I decided to hitch the last 4 into St Croix where I had a bed booked for the night.  

The border post - no longer manned

This was where I noticed the next big difference between France and Switzerland - the cost of everything!  I had been lulled into a false sense of security by the cost of my hotel room at the Cafe Hotel, which was only 40 swiss francs.  It was when I went to buy some food that it really hit me.  The prices were double and more in some cases, and this was to be the last cheap hotel room for my time in Switzerland. 

Yesterday started off a pleasant summer's day, though quite humid when climbing hills, and ended with a huge thunderstorm.  At 5.00 it was quite dark even though the sun would not be setting for another 3 hours or more!   

The first climb, on leaving Besancon!

My feet held up well yesterday as I walked up and down, but the last few kilometres on the hard road surface finished them.  One dear lady saw me walking, turned her car around and came back to give me a lift - she thought that things were "dificile" for me!  How is that for kindness!  She then drove me to the little town of Ornans, where the only accomodation I could find was a three star hotel, despite the fact that Madame insited on driving around the entire town checking that there was not another one open!  Even the hotel owner finds it strange that on the one day when tourists are out in force the Office of Tourism, is shut and therefore unable to give advice.

Yesterday's journey took me thorugh some pleasant countryside, with some wonderful views looking back at Besancon, and through yet more forests.  I think this part of France must be the lungs of the country there are forests everywhere.

Looking back over Besancon, with the Citadelle on the right.

Ornans is, to use my rescuer's phrase a "très, très, beaux village"!  It is right on the River Loue, and the houses sit right on the edge of the river, which is a reasonably fast flowing and wide one.  There are numerous bridges crossing the river - some car and some only foot bridges. The main road is very narrow with the footpath only about a foot wide in several places! So narrow that cars, truck, buses etc are continually stopping to allow vehicles to get through!

Houses on the rivers edge at Ornans

More chimney pots!

Because of the fragile state of my feet, I decided that with the rain of last night, and the projected downpours over the next couple of days, that I would be foolish to try and walk today.  The path would have been either very muddy and slippery, or it was on the busy main road - and neither would have done my feet any good.  Instead I caught the bus to Pontarlier, where I am booked into a single room in the Auberge Jeunesse (youth hostel).  The bus trip more or less followed the path, and I don't know which would have made me more nervous, as the driver swung the bus round corners and speeded up on the straight!  Some of the corners were so tight that he held the horn down for quite a few seconds as he went round them.  It was a beautiful road nonetheless, looking at the river as it rushed over the weirs in the villages, going through villages that clung to the hillside, and seeing the mist roll down the clefts in the cliffs, almost like a waterfall.  Finally the road broadened out from the river valley and the approach into Pontarlier was through forest and pastureland.  Pontarlier is an attractive town, the home of Absynthe - not that I will be trying any!  Its altitude is 840 metres.

The entrance to "centre ville"Pontarlier.

I keep forgetting to tell you about the weather.  Yes, the summer has arrived - on some days, but there are still days when it is quite cold.  Today it is only 11°, and last week in Besancon I had to get out my down jacket again!  There are downpours expected over the next 2 days, but then it is meant to fine up!

Tomorrow  ..........  Switzerland, and only 18kms for the next 2 days so the feet should be fine!