Saturday 14th September 2024

Me and my big mouth!Me and my big mouth!

Yesterday, said on the was down through France we had no traffic, no delays. Well, Saturday, we had the mother of all diversions.

But did work out well, and we saw sights and experienced real Alpine motoring the way it used to be.

We woke up in the chateau at just before six. We had showers and while Jools went for a quick walk, I did stuff online, before packing so to be ready for Le Grande Depart after breakfast.

We had rolls with apricot preserve, cake and lots of coffee before we said farewell and loaded up the car for the eight and a half hour drive to Tuscany.

Down the mountain and onto the main road, which lead us back to the autoroute, and then eastwards towards the mountains.

At this point I should say we don't read French well, if we could, then we would have read the multiple signs that said the Mont Blanc tunnel was closed. But instead we powered on towards the Alps, and the ever-narrowing valley that lead to the tunnel entrance.

We thought we were making good time, and followed the line of cars as we headed through tunnels and into the deep valley of Chamonix.

And all was going well until we came to the entrance road, which was blocked off, instead we carried on into the village, where the weekly market was being set up the other side of the railway crossing.

We panicked, consulted our phones which said there was a pass, just keep going and up and up and up.

We turned back onto the main road, and followed the line of cars heading up the Col des Montets. From the holiday village of Chamonix, the road twisted up and through the trees, mile after mile after mile.

We did pass a sign pointing to Le Col du Grand Colombier, and thinking Tony would love to go and look at that, though not probably ride it, but I could be wrong.

We got past the learner driver in front, halfway up, and made good speed, all was well until we reached the top and we entered Switzerland at 4,400 feet.

There's a village, with shops and people walking around in winter clothes as it was just above freezing, we kept going, pausing to stop at the breath-taking view into the valleys below, where the road was taking up.

Down and down, round and round, endless hairpins, steep slops and heart-stopping sheers drops to the valley thousands of feet below.

Only problem was, of course, was that we were in the wrong country. We needed to get to Italy.

And Italy was via another pass.

The Col du Grand Saint-Bernard.

Having reached the roundabout at the bottom, we turned right and began the even longer climb to the top.

The road, in fairness, was smoother and less curvy than the previous, but the climb was relentless, sometimes through steep villages hugging the mountainside, and up still.

Above the treeline gave out, and soon began the snowline, we would get there in time.

At 6,400 feet, there is a choice. Further to the tp of the pass at 2469m making it the highest pass in Europe, the very roof of the continent. Or take the 5.8Km tunnel at €16.50 into Italy.

We took the tunnel, after queuing for the toll, we drove through the middle of the mountain, and three-quarter through, into Italy.

Out the other side, and under the shadow of a 10km long avalanche tunnel, before out into the sunlight, and down the long, long descent into Italy, through villages clinging harder to steeper slopes, but all the while the road got better and better, until the autostrada began in a tunnel 5km from the bottom, and so we put the hammer down.

The deviation had taken three hours, and we still had eight to go. Onto the autostrada proper, and so we and the car began to eat up with miles towards the coast. All the while in the rear view mirror, the mountains faded away, and the land ahead and to both sides was flat countryside.

Speed limits in Italy, it seems, are only advisory, and so we joined the speed kings, speeding through the countryside.

We stopped at a service area for lunch and supplies, then back on the road past Turn, Alessandria and onto Genoa.

Genoa is on the coast, so our way would be south along the autostrada. Once we reached the city, we joined the coast road by a spiral junction and ramp that went upwards and upwards, leaving the city way down below.

The road then passed through dozens of tunnels as it wound its way along the coast, when emerging we got glimpses of houses and condos clinging to the steep sides of the hills, and the ground falling away to the right with the sea glistening to the right.

The E80 is an engineering marvel, so for an hour we alternated between bright sunshine and tunnels, so longer than 2km, but in time the road dropped to sea level, the tunnels ended, and we began the last 200 miles of the trip.

Past Pisa, Lucca and south now in Tuscany itself, but not here the historic hill town, but an endless urban sprawl beside the coast.

We were now in an area, if not that we know well, the names of the towns are familiar. We turn off near Grossetto, turning inland now on the final push, into the last 50 miles.

Of into the countryside, we stop at the last town before our destination, Ribolla at the Co-Op for supplies to last us the weekend.

Cheese, guanciale, tomatoes, garlic, olive oil, bread are bought, and then piled in the car, now just 20 minutes from our rental.

I began this blog 16 years ago, just before our wedding and then honeymoon. We came here, to Caminino, and now we return, staying at the same converted monastery, in the same apartment, overlooking olive groves down the misty coast and Elba beyond.

We arrived at the gates, they swung open, and we went down the final 100m on gravel, where Emy was waiting in the doorway to his office, waving.

Emy remembered us, and the kitten we rescued, he hugged us, poured prosecco and toasted our return.

We were beyond tired.

We unloaded the car, took the bags and cases upstairs, I prepared Insalata Caprese, like the first night we stayed all those years ago. But much better this time, with Balsamic and basil.

We ate on the terrace as night fell, and traffic on the old Roman road below was like diamonds on black velvet. I opened the wine, poured, and we toasted ourselves. And ate.