Putting on the Ritz
For the first time since Ross has been in France, we woke to grey skies and drizzly rain. It was decided we’d pack up early and head off after breakfast towards our next destination, Lyon. We had a bit of time on our hands before our flight this afternoon so decided to look up some cool places to visit on the way. Ross did some research and found a medieval village that fitted the bill.
As we left Chamonix, it was a real pea-souper. The clouds were hanging low over the mountains, their peaks invisible through the fog. We were so thankful for the sunshine and clear conditions we’d had yesterday up the mountain.
Our first stop, the quaint little village of Pérouges, was established way back in the 11th century (making it a thousand years old!!) It was famous for its craftsmen and linen weavers in its hey day. The place is still so well-preserved, it was like entering a time warp, or being transported into a Hans Christian Andersen storybook. It almost looked too authentic to be real and I imagined not too different to how it would have been when it was built. Still a bit rough around the edges, the houses were literally cobbled together with whatever must have been around at the time - stones of all shapes and sizes, cut stone blocks, pieces of terracotta, skinny little bricks. They were as rustic as it gets. Not that we got any kind of memo but we assumed Mondays were “village day off” because aside from a few tourists kicking around with us, the place was all but deserted, every shop shut and not a soul around.
Pèrouges had all the essentials for a medieval village, including a big-steepled church, an arched stone gate, winding narrow streets, a fountain and a fortified wall surrounding it. Oh, and it was on top of a hill. It also had a gaolhouse and a square where witch trials had once taken place! Though the outsides of the buildings were ancient, a sneak peek through some of the windows showed all the mod cons inside. We were surprised to hear some voices coming through an open window and saw some bakers in their kitchen, whipping up some pizzas. In Ross’ never-ending quest for a good coffee, he enquired in French, whether he might get his hands on “du cafe?” They were clean out but suggested he might have some luck taking “to left, to left, to left” (make of those directions what you will) to find the restaurant that was miraculously open on the village day off. We eventually found the open establishment after, not surprisingly, walking in left-turning circles for a while, but alas they also had no coffee.
Pèrouges’ cobblestones were very unique, not in any way uniform, and sizeable - sticking right up out of the street - making them a tad tricky to navigate, especially since it had been raining and they were slippery. There were fully laden grape vines clinging to the cobbled walls, as well as window boxes of colourful flowers and some beautiful roses that smelt as good as they looked, so bright against the drab stone walls. We were glad we’d paid a visit.
Back on the road, we found there was a route to Lyon through Geneva, which barely added any time to the trip. Still finding it a major novelty to be able to simply drive from one country to another, how could we pass up a chance to do a little drive through Switzerland? We had to pass through a checkpoint on the border, where intimidating, tough-looking border control officers stared us down as we tentatively drove through, expecting we could be stopped at any minute. We exhaled as we made it through unscathed, entering into the land of precision watches, delicious chocolate, hole-y cheese and the chef from the Muppets (just to name a few of course). Since it was still raining quite heavily, we didn’t have any urgent desire to stop and have a walk around. Aside from a very tense moment when Ross accidentally drove up a one-way trams-only street and we nearly had a head-on collision with a tram, the drive-by visit was fairly uneventful. We should also mention that the traffic lights system is incredibly confusing, with a green light and a red light appearing simultaneously. It’s anyone’s guess which one you take notice of.
Before we’d even had a chance to buy a Toblerone, we had zipped back over the border and were back in France. Just like that.
Farewelling our little “HD” car, we boarded our flight in Lyon, winging our way across the country to the Basque coast and the beachside town of Biarritz. Rossco was snoozing before the plane even left the runway. Here in Biarritz, we’re staying at a very cute little hotel just a block back from the beach and after dropping our bags we were keen to have a wander around to get our bearings. It was such a contrast to be back on the coast after being around those huge mountains. Unfortunately, the rain had followed us so it was a bit of a soggy walk around town and as the sun began to set, people began to come out of the woodwork. We had dinner in a pub in town and what the place lacked in service, it more than made up for with the food.
The architecture here is so different to where we’ve been, with the buildings mostly white with maroon shutters and trims - great for Manly supporters. There’s such a beachy vibe, with gorgeous one-off boutiques, surf shops and trendy bakeries. The tide down at the beach was high tonight and the surf was big and the misty rain mixed with the salt spray reminded us of home. We are looking forward to more exploring tomorrow. With a bit of luck the weather will take a turn for the better.
