Torino to Nice

I did it! I survived the tour of the Alps!

I switched my plans around at the last minute in Torino and decided to head south towards Nice. I arranged couchsurfing for several nights along my path and then headed off towards the mountains. After riding through the Italian countryside, my first stop was the eensy-weensy town of Dronero. I was the first foreign couchsurfer to visit Dronero, and everyone asked me: "why?" but I was happy to be there. It is a beautiful small town, and I rode around it on my bike. On my second day there I woke up feeling kinda crumby and low. I oozed around the apartment for a while before realizing I had to do something to kick my mood. So I begrudgingly put on my riding shoes and headed out into the village. I rode around in circles, deliberately getting lost to see what I might find. I ended up finding a small winding road up a mountainside. I thought I would take it only far enough to obtain a picture of the town from above, but I kind of ended up going all the way to the top. On a sopping little dirt track. In the rain. And a lighting storm. There is nothing quite like reaching the top of a soggy mountain on your touring bike in a lightning storm to kick a crappy mood. After ascending for an hour and a half, I descended in about 10 minutes.

The next day I headed out to attack the real hill in my way: the Alps. I hooked onto a road that went to the town of Limone, which is famous for its skiing. The grade was good and the going wasn't too tough. This was to be my first time actually crossing the Alps, but I had actually been riding through them since Vicenza. I guess that's what all those hills were. Anyway, my legs were prepared. Except for one thing: at the top of the road was a 3 km long single lane tunnel, impossible for bikes to go through. To attempt it would have been to ask to get smooshed under a really big truck. So instead I opted for Door #2: over the top. I rode right into the ski village and then started to ascend the service road. I counted 15 switchbacks, each of them steep and almost 1 km long. It was stupid hot out and I got many looks of wonder from people passing in their cars. But I made it, after many stops for water in the shade. At the top was a little restaurant. You can buy good coffee even on top of a mountain in Europe. All in all I ascended about 1.5 vertical km in a day. My ears popped.

And then I was in France. Just like that. A winding dirt track wound its way down the other side of the mountain like a very well done spaghetti noodle stuck to the fridge. I went back and forth, back and forth, my breaks squealing at every 359 degree corner. As always, going down took a fraction of the time of going up. Then I got onto the main road and really turned on the juice, riding in the lane of traffic to maintain my status as a legitimate vehicle. That night I found respite in the home of a lovely french family deep in the Alps. They fed my, gave me a comfy bed, and even provided me with maps for all of France to help me on my way. Couchsurfing strikes again!

Then something surprising happened. A friend from couchsurfing sent me an email and told me that she was traveling close by with her Slovenian family. They were on a vacation through the south of France to celebrate the dads birthday, and they decided to come and pick me up! So the next day I rode my bike to meet them and the next thing I knew I was packed into a rented caravan traveling with a new family! Life never ceases to take me in new and unexpected directions!

Travel by car is... surprise, surprise... much faster than by bike and we covered hundreds of km in a matter of hours. Wow. We stopped in Cannes for a look around before heading on to Aix-en-Provence for the evening. Beautiful towns with an adopted family! We spent the night in a truckstop on the side of the highway. The next day we drove down to the small town of Cassis, near Marseilles. I have realized many advantages to traveling by bike, the best of which is not having to find parking. And being able to travel anywhere. And not stopping at gas stations or paying at the tolls. Amongst many others.

I decided to get left behind in Cassis as the others took the caravan to Marseilles. I went for another ride up the biggest hill I could find, which afforded me some amazing views. The next day I headed East, towards Nice. Its funny how things work out, I thought I would be riding west along this road, but east was just as good. Right away I chose the road less traveled and found myself heading through the forests away from the coast. I turned off onto a paved forestry road. Half way up the steep hill I came to a gate, notifying travelers that the road was closed to reduce the risk of forest fires in the dry heat. If they had put the gate at the bottom of the hill I might have obeyed the sign, but since I had already invested so much in the ascent I ignored it completely and pushed my bike around the barrier. And then I found myself completely alone. It was wonderful, riding in complete silence and stillness except for birds, crickets and the wind. Of course I was careful not to start any forest fires.

I eventually came back into civilization and, while trying to stop for a picture, fell over sideways with my foot still in the clip and swore loudly in French. I got up and made my way through the cities of Southern France. After being in real wilderness, it was a shock to all of a sudden find myself in what looked very much like Hollywood. I kept going, moving again with the traffic. I eventually turned off again onto another secondary road and found myself in wine country on a peninsula tipped with a castle encrusted island. I made dinner on the beach and went for a swim. Then I rode around until I found a silent place in a farmers field and set up my tent. I am a travel ninja.

The following day was my longest ever (136), but I couldnt stop - there was too much to see around every corner. I passed through St Tropez and Cannes, following an abandoned railroad that I came across accidentally. The track was rough, but there were no cars and it followed the cliffs above the Cote d'Azur. I kept on and on, eating breakfast, lunch (twice) and dinner on the road. It would take another entry to describe what I saw and did, how it felt, but I dont have time for that. Check the pictures for some of the views.

I made it almost all of the way to Nice that night, finally stopping exactly 12 hours after I had left that morning. The 5th campsite I checked wasnt full and I finally laid down to sleep. But by early the next morning I was in Nice, finding my way to my CS host. Ever since I have been "stuck" here, not really wanting to move. They have roughly 340 days of sun here, so that doesnt leave a lot of room for rain. Every day is a beach day. My CS host showed me some climbing rocks above deep water and lent me a pair of shoes. Every day I go to my playground, along with other CSers staying here, and boulder until I fall off while others jump off the rocks or just soak up sun. Gab, the Québécois guy staying at the same place as me keeps saying "Pas facile, la vie!", roughly translating to "life is hard". And it sure is.

But in a few minutes I am leaving the hard life and heading back into the mountains. I didnt get quite enough of them on my first pass through, and I need to go back for more. I am borrowing a backpack and leaving my bike behind in favour of plain old feet. I will hike through the mountains and camp in the trees. And then I will come back to my trusted steed and head west, as I had originally intended. But for every plan there is a detour, and you will just have to wait until my next entry to see what I really do!

Bonne chance mon ami!

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