This trip was first suggested to me by my brother, ” why don’t we go to Lake Como for  the bi-annual Moto Guzzi Open House weekend in early September.” He obviously possesses one of these Italian machines which he says is “full of character”.

For a variety of reasons the plan didn’t progress much further until we got back from our previous trip, in early August.

“Do you still want to go?” he asked.

Yes, give me the dates and I’ll arrange something

“OK, I want to arrive on Thursday 5th, and leave on Monday 9th”

I still had some holiday to use up, so I had a look at the map to see where I might spend some time with my wife and then opened negotiations.

Dearest wife, would you like to go on holiday to Annecy?

“What’s there?” she asked.

Well, it’s at the end of a beautiful lake which is surrounded by mountains. The old town is very pretty and has rivers running through it, indeed it has been described as the Venice of France.

“How would I get there?”

You could fly to Geneva and I’d pick you up from the airport, it’s not very far.

“Ok”

The stage was set.

26 Aug 2019

Early on Monday morning I set off for Folkestone to cross under the sea. I came out of the train at about 9:30 to a lovely cloudless sky and stopped a little way up the road to adjust my particulars and check the map.

I now became very confused - I had booked a (cheap) hotel that night in Troyes, because it was about half way to Annecy, and I was expecting the distance to be roughly 330 miles, but it was showing about 200 to go.

The fog of stupidity gradually burned off in the morning sunshine. It was indeed about 330 miles to Troyes. From home. So keen was I to get on my holibobs that I had discounted the UK part of the journey as it’s not very pleasant. Now, having ridden from home to Folkestone and made the subterranean journey I had travelled 130 of my 330 miles - leaving “only” 200 to go that day.

Idiot!

My plan had been to arrive at Troyes late in the afternoon or early evening, because I had no idea what it was like, now I had a surplus of time so what should I do with the day?

I looked at the map and considered various options, until I had a brainwave. It’s a lovely warm summer day with a perfect blue sky above, so instead of cruising along the motorway why don’t I stick to small roads, head across the country all day. If it were taking too long I could always go back to the motorway.

What a great decision that was. Riding along roads which were almost deserted through the gentle slopes of Northern France. Slow down for the little villages, enjoy looking at them as I passed through and then speed up a bit when leaving. I should have taken more pictures that day but I was just enjoying the ride.

I headed into Arras for lunch, where I had been only three weeks before, and then onwards as the crops slowly changed into grapes nearing Reims.

I went into Reims, not to see the Cathedral (I did glance at it going past) but to look at somewhere else.

After that I was bored, so I hopped on the motorway for the last 80 miles to Troyes, stopping only at the Golden Arches for some calories before going to the hotel and having an early night.

The next day I had the thick end of 300 miles to cover, but as I was close to the centre of Troyes I thought I should check it out. Just in case.

Next time I pass that way I think I’ll spend some more time there!

Another sunny day, with a lot of it spent on the motorway, but after lunch mountains began to appear in the distance, and then after stopping for fuel near Bourg-en-Bresse the road went into the mountains. 80 miles of breathtaking views.

The place that I had rented was out near the railway station, and had a parking space round the back. After sorting out the keys I unloaded the bike and went to the shop around the corner to get essentials and something for later.

That evening I went out for a ride, a 25 mile loop into the mountains, which was very pleasant apart from the two stupid drivers who tried to kill me. Fortunately they failed so I was able to enjoy the sunset views.

Back at the flat I called my wife to tell her about the place, views etc. and as we were speaking a massive thunderstorm started. Lots of lightning and the crashes of thunder echoing off the mountains. Lots of rain as well. Hopefully it will go away before breakfast time.

Wednesday 28 August

When I got up the storm had gone and it was another sunny day. I walked the short distance to the old town (5 minutes) and picked one of the cafe’s to sit outside and have breakfast. A pretty good start to the day.

Once I’d filled my face and brought my caffeine level up to “safe” I went for a stroll around the old town, because I knew that when she arrived the boss would want some basic navigational information, such as “where are the nice shops”

They’re everywhere mixed in with cafes and restaurants in streets like this

The rivers? They’re there too.

As my wife’s flight wasn’t arriving until late afternoon I wasn’t in a rush so I decided to go for a ride around the lake and up into the mountains.I went along the south side of the lake and then along the valley to Ugine, where the road turned south and I turned north up the smaller roads into the mountains.

I might have mentioned it in an earlier tale, but I’m scared of heights. I get scared looking over the edge of the newspaper (have I used that joke before?). It takes me a few days to get used to the verticality, and stop riding along the middle of the road!

This little loop was my breaking in ride, I stopped worrying about it for the rest of the holiday afterwards. The road climbed up until it got to some ski resorts, and then it climbed up some more. The road was very narrow, with a bumpy and broken surface (I presume the winters take a heavy toll). I would have turned back, but I was too scared to turn around.

Eventually I started to descend again and eventually enjoyed the rest of the descent - but the roads were still so narrow and twisty that I kept the speed down.

When I got back to Ugine I stopped and called my wife to check that her flight was looking to be on time, and then along the north side of the lake and back to the flat to make myself a snack.

It’s only 30 miles from Annecy to Geneva airport, and about 29 of those are on motorways, with one stop in the middle at the Swiss border. Because I was about to go onto a Swiss motorway I had to pony up 40 euros for a carnet to stick onto the windscreen. It is possible to get to the airport without using the motorway, but it’s another entrance completely and as I intended to traverse Switzerland twice the following week I thought that it was worth paying now and making this journey easier.

Not everything in Switzerland is expensive - the motorcycle parking at the airport is free. Although maybe not very well signposted, I saw the bike parking and went in - it seemed very popular, but I was able to find a spot to park in. It turned out to be the staff motorbike park. But there was no barrier and they haven’t sent me a begging letter, so I think that I got away with it. And the airport motorbike parking really is free - it’s just that it’s a little further along.

When my wife got to the arrivals hall she was pleased to see me - I think she likes going on holiday carrying only her handbag and a helmet bag and knowing that she won’t have to worry about driving in a strange place.

That evening we wandered around the old town, which was very busy with tourists, and eventually decided on somewhere to eat, sitting outside on a warm evening.

Thursday 29th August.

In the morning we walked back into town and had breakfast at the same place where I’d been the day before. After that my wife picked a different place every day (so I don’t have to mention breakfasts any more!)

We spent the whole day walking around town together, looking in the shops, stopping for coffee, going to the park by the lake. Regular boring tourist stuff.

Having looked at the information in the flat, and visited the tourist office, we thought that we would visit a mediaeval village that evening and maybe eat there.

But we didn’t take the direct route..

The village, Alby-sur-Cheran, is on the left where the Parking is shown, but we started by heading south and riding up Semnoz (les Rochers Blancs is near the summit). When I was planning another trip (which hasn’t happened, yet) I looked at the road up to the peak of Semnoz and it looked like a really fantastic ride. From Annecy it’s about 17k to the top. From down by the lake I had estimated that it was 500 or 600 metres high, but the road goes up to 1,660 metres, 40m shy of the summit. That’s about 350 metres higher than Ben Nevis with a wonderful ride up through the forest. Down the other side (the squiggles on the right) and round the end of the mountain and we came back to Alby-sur-Cheran.

It is a pretty village, but there’s not much more than you can see in this picture, so after wandering around and looking at it, checking the menu, my wife said “no”, so we took the direct route back to Annecy (“I’m not going back the way we came”), walked into town and had a lovely dinner together.

Distance for the day: 40 miles.

Friday 30th August

A lazy Friday.

After another outdoor breakfast we walked through the old town to the lake

The bridge at the end is called the Lover’s Bridge, with a nice big park running along the edge of the lake. We had decided that we wanted to see the mountains from the lake, and the man at the boat hire place had said that morning was the best time.

It was a pretty fabulous morning to be out on a lake with very few other boats.

Here we see Cap’n Ahab keeping a watchful eye out for marauding sharks. Of which there were none.

Back on dry land we did some exciting things such as lunch, sightseeing  and then back to the flat for a nap.

About 6pm we rode the 20 miles to La Roche-sur-Foron, a small town with a mediaeval centre, but there was a festival of sorts going on so it was pretty crowded. A nice view from the car park though

When we got back we left the bike at the flat and walked into town to eat. Sorry if that wasn’t a very exciting day, tomorrow has lots of nice pictures, and Sunday has nice pictures and excitement.

Saturday 31st August

Because it was quite busy during the day, I thought that I would get up early and walk into town to take some pictures while the light was good and there weren’t too many people around. There was an antique market being set up as well which added to the atmosphere.

Definitely worth getting up a little earlier for.

I called my wife and we arranged to meet for breakfast and then spent the morning wandering around looking at the stalls.

After lunch we visited the prison and the castle on the hill above. The castle had a very interesting exhibition on the local boat builder with some of his boats and the small boat (almost a model) that he had to build to be accepted as a master boat builder. Stunning workmanship, but unfortunately too dark for any pictures. You’ll just have to go and see it yourselves.

In the evening we rode the 20 miles up to the Glières Plateau. There were a couple of reasons that we wanted to go. The road…

The plateau is round the back where the red pin is. Going up that road, before we got to the hairpin section I couldn’t even work out how a road could get up there, it looked impossible.

Another, happier reason for going there was that my wife wanted to be filmed appearing running up an alpine meadow singing “the hills are alive”, as a joke for a friend in Patagonia. So we filmed that, passing walkers gave us very strange looks!

Just after the car park the road becomes a gravel track. But this is in fact the road down the other side (there is only one road on each side). I had been curious to see it because the 2020 Tour de France was due to come over here, so either they would be climbing the gravel road and going down the switchback, or climbing up the steep road and then racing down a gravel road.

The sun was setting so we rode back down the mountain, no heroics, and parked the bike back at the flat so that we could walk into town for food.

Sunday 1st September

What could be nicer on a sunny sunday in September than laying in bed with the one you love? Instead, as I was with my wife we got up and went out for breakfast. Well, truthfully, I went out early again to take some pictures.

As it was now September it was much quieter, lots of holidaymakers must have been travelling home that day.

After breakfast we had a gentle stroll through town towards the lake. The “sheep” were in a park which ran along one of the rivers.

My wife had expressed a desire to cycle round the lake. An excellent idea, there’s a lovely path for walkers and cyclists that goes most of the way. But there were two things I knew that she didn’t - the distance, the lake is 15k long, which makes the ride round it a bit longer - 27 miles (to mix units). The other thing is that it’s not flat all the way. If you go round anti-clockwise (which somehow seems the obvious way from the old town) then about three quarters of the way around someone has carelessly left the end of a mountain running into the water, which means there’s a bit of a climb - about 150 metres I think, complete with hairpin bends. She's not a regular cyclist so....

Please Monsieur Bicycle Rental Homme, may we rent two electric bicyclettes? Bicycles and electric motors, two things that were destined to go together like rice and pudding.

That’s the path at the bottom.

The tourist info says that there is a “steam” train to remind you that the path was once a railway. According to google’s translation of the sign, it dates from 1905 and is “without hearth”, operating on a mixture of hot water and compressed air.

It also adds that it was used in ammunition depots.

Towards the far end of the lake people were flying paragliders from the mountain, across the lake and then landing near us. A pretty constant stream of them, I think I counted 11 or 12 in the air at any time.

When we got to the aforementioned hilly bit I almost felt sorry for the serious cyclists struggling up the climb, almost. I’ve paid my cycling dues, ridden up much bigger climbs.

At the top of the climb there was excitement (I promised you excitement), there was paragliding at this end of the lake, but instead of going across the lake (it was about the widest point) they were jumping off the steep mountain and flying parallel with a vertical bit then landing near where we were. Except for the one who wasn’t. He/She/they had got a bit too close and managed to “land” in the trees a long way up in a very steep part.

The helicopter had been flying up seeing what was going on, and then landed down near us.

I’m not sure whether it was because the paraglider pilot was beyond saving or just that it was close to lunchtime and this was France after all, but after chatting on their radios for a bit they got back in and flew away, blowing everybody’s hats off in the process.

Seeing as how it was lunchtime, when the road got back to water level we found a restaurant by the lake and had lunch.

Later I went out to ride up Semnoz again.

Not quite at the summit. Here’s my top photography tip for scenic photos like this - pay very careful attention to the slopes on the surface. It was a nice hard surface, but with a gentle slope, which wouldn’t have been a problem except for the little hill behind the back wheel. I had a sweary few minutes wondering whether I would have to wait for someone else to stop for the view.

Head in the clouds. This is about the highest point on the road, on the right the mountain is a bit higher, maybe 15 or 20 metres, with the top station of the ski lift on it.

I extended my ride back a little to take some pictures of these big balls. There were 5 of them I think. I’ve no idea why I didn’t shoot a panorama.

Monday 2nd September

You’re probably bored with pictures of Annecy, I’m getting quite bored of them, I want to get to Italy.

That will do as a final picture of Annecy.

Well, perhaps one more picture. Outside the town hall with this thing that reminded me of The Little Shop Of Horrors.

I have no idea either.

We had decided that today we would go and visit Chambery, have a look around, eat lunch. Regular tourist stuff. Oh, and visit the main tourist attraction in the town.

We took the scenic route on D roads along the bottom of the mountains and between them. That led to the inevitable question “Are we nearly there yet?”

The centre of Chambery is a very pretty,

There are streets leading away on either side of the junction (or maybe the next one). With nice shops everywhere to make my wife happy.

Do I make her visit motorbike dealers? Do I make her watch me try on scores of helmets, waving my head around and pulling faces in a mirror for each one? I most emphatically do not! But we’re on holiday so I quietly watch her trying on hats and doing all the other things that she does when she goes shopping.

At the end of that street is the town's major tourist attraction - a fountain. The Fontaine des Éléphants colloquially known as les quatre sans culs which translates as “the four without arses” for obvious reasons.

All four of them spend their days and nights squirting water from their trunks.

We wandered around looking for somewhere for lunch, my wife reading the menu carefully for each of them, but I don’t think it was the food the made her choose the restaurant in front of the Chateau des Ducs de Savoie - it was the waiter. One of the waiters was very good looking (very), and she made sure that we were at one of his tables. He was also very nice, she engaged him in conversation, I could see that I had lost her, and he gave us a suggestion for a place for lunch the following day.

His favourite place he said, the lake was even cleaner than Lake Annecy as they had been conserving it since the 60’s.”Right”, my wife said when we left, “we’re going there for lunch tomorrow.” Fair enough, it’s our last day on holiday together so somewhere extra special would be great.

“Also”, she said, “can we go back on the motorway”

Tuesday 3rd September

To ensure that we didn’t spend too much time journeying and miss lunchtime we went on the motorway down to the lake that was our destination - Lac d’Aiguebelette. It’s a good job that the waiter had written it down for us, I would never have remembered that accurately.

It’s probably less than 10k from Chambery, but nature stuck a mountain between them, so the direct route goes through a tunnel.

It’s a very pretty lake, although access seems to be well controlled - no rolling up, parking, going and having a barbeque and leaving your litter. At all the places I saw where there was a beach there was also a fence near the road and you had to pay (not much) to go in. I suppose it helps keep it clean and fund the work.

We parked and went for a walk, scoped out the restaurants in the area that we had stopped at. We had to wait a little for a table at the one we chose, so while my wife enjoyed the bar I went for a walk to see if there was anything to take a picture of.

If you are going there, we chose Restaurant Les Belles Rives at Le Port, there are two restaurants there, but my wife chose that one as we could sit over the lake and feed the ducks and the fish as we ate. It was that clean. The fish that we ate didn’t come from the lake.

That was it, our final lunch together of our holiday finished.

As we didn’t have to hit any deadlines I got permission to take the scenic route back. We rode along lovely country roads on a hot and sunny afternoon, gradually climbing until we crossed the top of the mountain and then descended down the other side heading south around Lac de Bourget, following the shoreline into Aix-les-Bains and then back into the countryside.

Aix-le-Bains is on the other side of the lake, on the right hand side is Chambery airport. Semnoz is the mountain at the far left furthest away.

Tomorrow I set off for Italy, via Switzerland, France and Switzerland.

Wednesday 4th September

My wife’s flight home wasn’t until late afternoon, and we didn’t have to leave where we were staying until the afternoon, so there was no need to rush in the morning. Have breakfast, finish packing, tidy up. I went and filled the bike up, checked the tyre pressures etc. Then a gentle ride to the airport.

We said our tearful goodbyes, and I headed off again, round the confusing one way system at the airport. I was heading north east, to go through Switzerland and back into France at Mulhouse where I was meeting my brother.

It was another lovely sunny day

This was in one of the swiss motorway services. Switzerland varied between scenic and boring. I can't now remember which dominated.

After crossing back into France, I passed Basel-Mulhouse airport and then went through Habsheim - the name seemed very familiar but I couldn’t think why. Later on I remembered that was where one of the very first A320’s, on its first passenger carrying flight, got parked in the trees at an airshow.

After having a tootle around Mulhouse I got a message from my brother. We were staying at a (cheap) hotel near the airport and he would meet me there, so I went and found the hotel and checked in and waited for him. And waited some more. I looked on the phone to track his position and his trail was like a drunk ant.

He eschews the use of modern devices and his preferred method of navigation is to write directions on a piece of paper and put it in the top of his tank bag where he can see it. Or not when it gets dark. Eventually he called me when he was nearby and I told him how to find the hotel.

When he got to the room he had a strange “aroma” about him. “Sorry about that” he said “the driveshaft seal at the back of the gearbox is leaking slightly and the gearbox oil smells like cat piss”. If my cat smelled like that it would be off to the vets! Fortunately he hung the oily rag out of the window so that we didn’t have to “enjoy” it.