23.7.24 under the English Channel
Sitting inside the front carriage of the Eurotunnel train, passing under the Channel to France. But rather than on a train, it feels more like a wormhole from the UK to France. The gentle rocking, and occasional external noises sound like the workings of mysterious technology. The slight bumps and shakes feel like ripples in space-time…
The road to the Eurotunnel terminal through southeast London, the unlovely part of the city. Traffic good, even on the absurd contraflow on the M20, necessitated by Brexit’s self-harming madness. The journey through France is part of our annual transhumance to Italy, passing through rural France and the Mont Blanc tunnel, an experience in itself, especially after the very different tunnels in Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan.
First stop Carrefour by the French Eurotunnel terminal. Pretty grim, but makes me think of the Carrefour in Tbilisi, of all places - rather smaller, but more romantic just by virtue of its position. In Carrefour car park. Very windy - the three wind turbines nearby whirling around… Patches of blue in the sky. Since I am edge-on to the wind turbines, I can see them reposition themselves slightly by gyrating, as the wind shifts directions.
In Saint-Omer. A gentle carillon tinkles away. A bit of a nightmare finding somewhere to park - a bloke sitting in his car for 30 minutes - I ask if he is going, he says “no”, he is waiting for his daughter. Meanwhile, another place becomes free, but impossible to get to directly because of all the one-way streets here. I make a circuitous alternative route back and manage to grab it.
Our small square - Place Sithieu - is actually a triangle. Old buildings around it - some extreme prismatic roofs, like those in Paris, but less grand. In the middle, a bronze statue of Pierre Alexandre de Monsigny - a musician apparently, but not one I’d ever heard of.
On the way here, driving along the almost deserted A26, some fab French place names: Fréthun, Les Attaques, Ardres, Louches, Zutkerque, Fecques sur Heim, Éperlecques, Sengues, Tilques. They sound like the sort of place Proust would have visited and raved about.
Just noticed our Place is under the ever-loving eye of a fat CCTV camera, which rotates to view different angles and streets. Around the town. To the cathedral - beautiful aged white stone, with one of the biggest church organs I’ve seen. The Jesuit college - incredibly tall - a symbol of arrogance and aspiration. Built of bricks too. Crazy mouldings - coats of arms, and at the bottom a huge broken pediment a metre thick.
Sitting by the theatre, an interesting rectangular structure with a roof similar to Mole Antonelliana in Turin. Set in a square that would be rather grand were it not for the huge car park in the middle. The architecture of the buildings around the square very varied, but very French. Four/five storeys, steep roofs - very steep roofs. One opposite us with the inscription “Ludovici XVI Munificentia”. It has two rows of windows in its tall steep roof, with four statues perched on the top balustrade at the foot of the roof. Terrifying.
24.7.24 Saint-Omer
Up early, and onto the streets, the cathedral bell ringing out its one sonorous note, echoing off stone and brick. To the boulangerie, the smell of fresh bread in the air. Nobody about, even though it’s 8am now. This place is beautiful but so dead… As we return, the cathedral’s bell has become two, a tone apart, ringing with more urgency. I doubt whether many will respond and attend the imminent mass…
In Avallon - or rather back in Avallon, since we were here almost exactly a year ago. Our destination a huge living space near the clock tower arch and the amazing ancient church of Saint-Lazare. Quite weirdly created from a couple of rooms, with the dividing wall removed to leave only the supporting beams. Works, though…
Hellish journey here, took seven and a half hours. Two main problems. First, a big jam on the A4 by Reims. This is anyway my least favourite road section, where the A26 mutates into the A4 for no reason, and then turns back again. Totally trivial roadworks caused 30 minutes of blockage.
Then past Troyes - yes, as in Chrétien de Troyes - onto the D444 to Tonnerre. Beautiful villages along the way, particularly Chaource. Past Tonnerre, a sign saying “route barrée” - but without offering a workaround. We plotted a longer alternative route and turned back towards Tonnerre. Luckily, on the way we noticed a sign “Deviation” that was almost invisible. It was the official alternative route, down very small back roads. It passed through Viviers, Yrouenne and Poilly-sur-Serein, the heart of Chablis country - the town itself is nearby. Finally back on the D944, quickly to Avallon. It’s a nice town, livelier than Saint-Omer, but also more touristic. Knowing the place a little made it easier to find our lodgings, and park the car nearby. Always interesting going back, layering memory on memory….
25.7.24 Sallanches
Easy drive down from Avallon, along the A6, then A40 to here, Sallanches, chosen for its propinquity to the Mont Blanc tunnel. To avoid the insane queues, we need to get there early tomorrow morning. The hotel, Ibis Budget, lives up to its name: two-star, and everything minimally comfortable. Interesting: no key, just a code to enter. Very basic, but cheap-is (100 euros), and close to the tunnel.
As ever, the landscape nearby is stunning - great walls of stone glowing in the afternoon sun, which is strong now. 30°C+. The mountains look greener than I remember them: maybe more rain this year has made them particularly verdant.
20.8.24 La Thuile
In the Hotel La Thuile, in the village of La Thuile, in the Aosta valley, bordering France. This place is schizophrenic: popular ski resort in winter, and hiking centre in summer. In fact, my one and only experience of skiing was not far from here, in La Plagne. I’m glad I did it, but it’s not something that ever really grabbed me as it does some. I think skiing is popular in part because it is quite straightforward – you fall down a hill with a certain care – while accessing instant excitement in beautiful scenery.
In fact this place is more than a ski centre, it’s a kind of Butlin’s holiday camp in a stunning location. There are lots of mini shops here – including a butcher – as well as various games and activities. It’s easy to see why there are lots of families with small children here. Less clear is why there are so many older people. Most of them seem unable to walk very well, let alone go hiking in the mountains. Perhaps it’s the thought that counts. To be fair, the air here is great – we are at about 1500 metres. Nothing compared to Kyrgyzstan, but higher than the tallest UK mountains.
We chose here for a location near to the Mont Blanc tunnel, so that we could get there early and avoid the sometimes horrendous queues. We didn’t spot that it was not only among the mountains, but actually up them.
We turned off the main road in Aosta, to Morgex, then a positively Georgian road with nine rather steep and sharp turns took us up high quickly. Mountains stunning in the late afternoon light. The only problem I have with this particular beauty is that it is so neat and well-tended. In this, it is the opposite of Tajikistan/Kyrgyzstan. But I can imagine that one day both of these will be as popular as here, and just as neat. Something will be lost, but of course the local economies will gain, so I shouldn’t carp. And as with so many places, I have been fortunate to see them before this happened.
Driving through the village of La Thuile, it was striking how un-Italian it looked – all Swiss-style chalets and buildings. The hotel too has wood everywhere – not unattractive. Outside, the evening air is noticeably cooler here. One bonus: no mosquitoes, which were bad in the low-lying parts of the country.
21.8.24 Avallon
We arose early, in order to get to the Mont Blanc tunnel before the queues formed. Air markedly colder than in the other parts of Italy we had visited. As we drove down from the ski resort/summer station, the sunrise illuminated the mountain wall towards France with the topmost peaks picked out like towers along a massive fortification.
About three cars at the toll booths for the tunnel – we didn’t even queue for ours. The tunnel itself quite empty towards France, more traffic coming in the opposite direction – big lorries mostly. Out into France, and huge horizontal banks of low-level cloud lay alongside the mountains. This part of France with its huge swooping viaducts is particularly beautiful in the broken sunshine. So dramatic, it makes driving here such a pleasure.
Easy road today: straight along the A40, on to the A6, to here, Avallon. Not just to the town we stayed in before, but to the exact same place, by the clock gate, with the handy car park opposite. Coming back makes the journey a real joy, because I knew exactly where I was going, no stress. Ditto with the accommodation, which feels like a little home from home, since it required no effort of familiarisation.
Avallon warm and bustling with people. Mostly people with dogs, it would seem, oddly enough. Got to see inside the collegiate church of Saint-Lazare nearby. Amazing stonework around the door. Inside musty but atmospheric. A fine organ over the door. Outside, a carved inscription that starts fully legible, but becomes more and more eroded towards the end, a wonderful metaphor for time and loss.
Tomorrow, we go back up to Troyes (hi, Chrétien), then on to Saint-Omer. Not the same place, but nearby, so at least navigating the one-way streets will be easy.
22.8.24 Avallon
During the night, the big bell on the clock gate tolled the hours not once, but twice, with a distance of a minute or so. It also gave a quieter semitone tinkle for the half-hours. But it’s amazing how you can sleep through such things – I only heard a couple of them…
More bells – this time back in Saint-Omer. More precisely, in the Clos du Bailli hotel. This is barely 50 metres from our accommodation here a month ago. The hotel’s design is unusual. It was clearly a house of some local well-to-do individual. Today, it is kitted out with period furniture, prints and even tapestries: all rather impressive. There is a courtyard at the front, visible through railings, and the hotel entrance alongside – where the carriages passed, I imagine. The rooms lie in the house itself, which sits at the angle of Place Sithieu and the cathedral’s Enclos Notre Dame. We are in room 12, which has a great view of the triangular Place.
The journey here split in two: from Avallon to Troyes, passing through a series of picturesque villages, the best of which was Chaource. The downside of these charming villages is that they often have speed limits of 30 km/h – about 19 mph. The surrounding countryside is attractive, agricultural, with plenty of trees in same places, in others, vast open spaces. At Troyes we joined the A5 briefly, before turning north, on to the A6. Then a long and rather boring drive up here.
Saint-Omer seems busier than before – more tourists presumably. Lots of people smoking cigarettes here – I thought that was out these days. I saw lots of individuals limping as they walked, and others with knee braces. Weird.
In search of a supermarket we walked along Rue de Dunkerque, which seems to be the main shopping street. Found a small but decent Carrefour there.
Tomorrow, a short trip to Calais, then under the Channel and home. As ever, the journey back is easier than out, because the destination – home – is known. And the journey home has about it a sense of the inevitable, because transhumance by its very nature – a temporary transfer of residence - implies a return.
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