La Dolce Vita

 Continuing east from Pralognan la Vanoise, we made our way over the Little Saint Bernard pass into Italy, and the Aosta valley. And for the first time on this trip, we were in places I'd been before! Four years ago I drove these exact roads with my family, staying in Courmayeur at the foot of Mont Blanc. We were headed the opposite direction this time, tonight our home was a campsite in Aosta town. 

Adam messing around on a climb in the hot sun

Also in Aosta, we met our friend Max from Östersund! Some types are crazy enough to travel 20 hours in trains for some wankers in a van and he's one of them. A happy reunion at the campsite followed, and a good dinner. But frighteningly: we were parked right between campers from The Netherlands and England. Adam and I were on our tip-toes all night of course. 

After a little shopping and walking about in the city, we found a crag and climbed for the entire afternoon and evening. It was blazing warm, but of course it always is. This spot was fully of short, technical routes and tiny holds in the rock. A sweaty day out, and we certainly earned our pizza at the end of it. 

Another long drive brought us to a mountaintop somewhere in the mountains west of Arco, near Lake Garda. I have no idea where it was exactly, except that it was on the edge of a ski-station and the stars were incredible. The pictures don't do the place justice:

Stars, seen from the back of a van, somewhere up a mountain.

I'm told that it's OK to park up on the side of the road like this if you're above the tree line in Italy, which we certainly were. And very lucky with the weather considering! 

The greasy old climbers and their breakfast! 

The Alps are also convenient in that you can take a bath in just about any lake, so of course we did before continuing on to Trento. This would conceivably be our last big city for a week, so it was time to stock up on groceries before heading to the villages high in the Dolomites. Also a good opportunity to take an affordable gelato: the standard GPI (gelato price index) here is €2 for one scoop, 3.50 for two, and three for €5. Throw in a €1.80 cappuccino and The Netherlands could never imagine this...

Not Lake Como, but just as clear and blue.

A diabolical picture of us and our gelato in Trento.

We rolled into our next campsite pretty late but still made a nice dinner, and savored the cool air back at altitude. We were in the Val di Fassa, pretty much the heart of the Dolomites and still chock full of Olympic swag leftover from this February. Since Camille would be leaving in a few days for work in France, we took the opportunity to go off on our own for some bonding time. Translation: 17km (10.5 miles) of hiking up a mountain!

"old man style" walking helps on steep slopes.

Travelers in the clouds!

1,400 meters (4,600 feet!) of climbing from the campsite got us some pretty amazing views!

The summit: Corno Nero, elevation 2439 meters. We could see countless glaciers and pale pinnacles of limestone on the horizon. Foreshadowing for all the climbing later this month!

Suffice to say we slept really well that night- the next morning we were on our own to first travel to, and then explore the village of Pozza di Fassa, where in the evening we'd rendezvous. I was again with the French as the others climbed some massive tower of limestone a half hour up the road. A rest day after our trek, eating gelato, pasta, and browsing touristy shops in this town. 

A bridge, some flowers, some mountain in the background, and the ambitiously named "Hotel Alaska" in the background. There was also "Everest", "Monte Bianco", "Siberia", etc. Luxury meets adventure eh! This was certainly the most touristy place we visited on the trip.

At night we met Stefano, yet another friend from Östersund, and stayed at his friend Lorenzo's aunt's apartment. (new record for most distant connection that got us a place to stay!) This was all part of a grand scheme that Ste had concocted for Adam's 21st birthday; we were really just the passengers. Stereotypically, we ate a lot of pasta and stayed up late yapping around the kitchen table.

The 21st was the last day for Camille and Émilie, both headed back to France via FlixBus. So we all did a farewell hike, up to an overlook on the town, and had a final lunch together. (we won't be apart for that long, Brussels in September will be our next meet-up!) Regardless I was pretty melancholic... it helped a lot to bake a cake with Frida for Adam, in semi-secrecy. Which we managed to transport all the way to our next place for the night, a mountain hut in a secluded valley! 

The view inside and outside this house! It was built by Lorenzo's grandfather and very generously trusted to us for two nights. The road in and out is restricted to residents only, so the solitude was unreal- just us and the hikers coming down the pass!

And of course the hiking opportunities were unparalleled.

Ste and a horse, walking through many green pastures.

A crazy couple of days indeed! Only Ste and Lorenzo knew the finer working of this plot, the rest of us were in the dark until we rolled into the driveway. Even now, looking back at this, I can hardly believe the things we got up to on that trip... a round of much-needed showers followed, and then a trip to the best pizzeria in town. Max left us as well on an evening bus, off to an internship in Slovakia. So now it was just myself, Adam, and Frida in the van.

Amazing pizzas and the origin of the "Aaron looks like a younger Jude Law" joke. With sunglasses and hat to hide from paparazzi.

Next we returned to Trento for some easy climbing in the hills outside the city. Pretty much everywhere you look in the Dolomites this is the case- it's climbing heaven! So we took a slow day by at the crag, doing simple routes and napping in the shade. Though back at the van, it was another story:

A smash-and-grab! My first experience with thieves ever, and I remember being in shock for the first part of this whole ordeal. They'd only taken Frida's bag, containing her passport and wallet unfortunately. After getting everything in order with the police (who were rather indifferent) and insurance, we drove down into town to find a place that would replace auto glass.

Adam does paperwork on Ste. A plot twist struck as we were sat in the parking lot of this industrial estate: the police called and said they'd found Frida's bag! It seems the thieves were only interested in cash, and finding none, chucked the bag in a bush where some hikers found it and turned it in. So less that two hours later, everything was recovered. We really are the luckiest people, this could've been a lot worse! With the exception of the broken window, but that's pretty superficial in the long run. We celebrated with bad Chinese food and excellent gelato in town. 

So, situation stable, in the morning we found a pretty cool via ferrata to occupy ourselves. It's an alpine specialty, sort of a fusion of climbing and hiking. Involving scrambles up cliffs on ladders, railings, cables, and bars driven into the rock. It was a hot day, but this had to be one of the only routes in Italy with natural air conditioning: it ran into a canyon so deep you'd think it was a cave! 

A monstrous canyon, and completely invisible from the outside! We followed this stream all the way up to its source, hopping over waterfalls and mossy boulders. 

The whole time I was hearing the theme from Jurassic Park in my head! 

Ste and his surprises weren't over yet, for Saturday night he'd found a free music festival where we could camp! The only catch being that this was a mandatory (well, or pay €5 for a shuttle service) hike-in event. I saved money and walked up, a sweaty one and especially taxing after the via ferrata of the morning. The festival was hard rock and metal, which I didn't particularly enjoy, but it was a free camp spot and in a beautiful valley. (just like in Sarzeau, nobody took pictures! If they're out there, you'll see a lot middle-aged Italians smoking and swaying to riffs and drums in the forest)

And then it was time to part ways with Stefano; the van feeling strangely empty with just the three of us. The smell, however, absolutely remained. It really was the end of an era, the next two weeks of van life would have a completely different energy than the last month. So on that note, Part 1 of the Italian adventure is finished. 

France, part III

 Having left France in the middle of one heatwave, we returned just at the beginning of another. How lucky we are. Even as we watched the coast grow closer and closer from the ferry, it was easy to feel that hot, dry air which would be the hallmark of the next week. Fortunately the A/C in the Caddy was working well enough, so it was no trouble at all getting to Rennes for the night on July 7th. Let the couchsurfing begin...

Irish Ferries, traveling in luxury!

We also stopped at Mont-Saint-Michel again, because why not! Here we find some shade beneath a bridge and feel like trolls. The place is much more impressive in summer. 

Again, a in a single picture, a very good summary of what this trip was actually like.

Most of our time in Rennes was spent hiding from the heat indoors, though we did go out to the Sainte-Anne district for some drinks once it cooled off. In the morning we drove west, towards Lannion, Émilie's town, to stay there with her family. (this trip included a stop at IKEA for ice cream and charging cables, which I remember the most for getting my fingers pinched in the door of the van. Incredibly this was my worst injury of the trip!) Lannion is small and definitively Breton city, and much cooler than Rennes thanks to the sea. We spent the entire evening at a lovely concert venue in a restored manor enjoying local food, traditional Kurdish music, and an unexpected DJ set. 

We split up the next morning, Adam and Frida off to climb, and myself with the French to go sailing.  Feeling very privileged and a little nervous, I stepped onto their sailboat not knowing what to expect. It was a special voyage, the very last outing for the boat before its sale to new owners. There's a pun in there somewhere. The port was up a river about 5km (3 miles) from the actual sea, so we took a long time cruising with the motor to get out. And when the sails went up I was given the task of steering! Such trust in a Midwesterner, though a fast learner as well. It's simpler than I expected, and soon we were zig-zagging out way into the wind!

Sailing the high seas and trying really hard not to fall overboard.

Despite how nice that water looks, we only stayed in a few minutes. Featuring Émilie's dad, our captain.

After a short stop to swim in cold, clear water and eat some lunch we were quickly headed back to port. The tides were somewhat against us, alas, so it was mostly motoring. Back in town we waited for Adam and Frida, who had been climbing on an island and were also trapped by the tides, albeit temporarily. This gave me some time to submit some documents for that internship I did in Sweden and finally complete the school year! So summer really began right there. We said our thank-yous and goodbyes to Émilie's parents and drove a few hours to the south coast of Britany, where we stayed the night at Camille's house in Sarzeau.  (Where, I'm afraid, nobody took any pictures! We were too focused on not succumbing to heatstroke.)

The next day was the hottest of the entire trip- the "sunburn in 20 minutes" sort of hot. I was up early to buy pastries for everyone and go for a swim, then took a long siesta until sundown. And another swim of course, why not when you're so close to the sea! It's marginally cooler in the evenings, so we took a couple of hour to drive to our next spot for the night, near La Rochelle. It was the beach house of our friend Vassili's grandparents- a distant connection to say the least! The premise was that Vassili happened to be there for the weekend with some friends and we sort of hopped on the bandwagon, making this quite a party.

A sundown walk with coffee and Camille.

Sunset on the beach with friends, is there anything more magical?

Of course, a picture with Vassili and the Caddy. In my opinion, one of the best pictures of the entire trip. "Erasmus Reunion". We did a couple on an Instax camera too, keepsakes for the van and our driver. 

But that didn't last long, just 14 hours later we were driving again, headed southeast for Auvergne and some cooler weather. For financial reasons we avoided toll roads: a lot of this trip was planned before this current energy crisis came about! Diesel for at least €2 per liter was the standard. Anyways, after a lot of sweaty miles through parched countryside, we at last found cooler weather in the mountains. 

Lunch in a small town in middle-of-nowhere France. The landscape was baked to a golden brown color and we drove through more than a few blackened fields from fires. Every message board warned us "ABSOLUTLEY NO SMOKING".

Arrived to Auvergne, so of course an apéro in the parking lot!

A basic formula is that for every 100 meters (330 feet I guess!) of elevation gain, the temperature will typically decline by 1℃. Probably there's a Fahrenheit equivalent for this. So, having found some elevation and exposed rock, it was time for me to join Adam and Frida on a climb. And it was "la Dent de la Rancune", the "Tooth of Rancor" in English, which was our target for the day.

The less-glamorous part of climbing, hauling everything from the car to the base of the crag. The Tooth is the one on the right; a hundred meters of the finest French andesite.

It was a pretty long approach to the base of this thing, 45 minutes walking under a pretty hot sun. This was where the trouble of the day started: we had brought only a liter of water each, which is just fine for a cool and damp Irish climate. But for the middle of a French summer, it wasn't half as much as we should've had. The first two pitches were just fine, easy enough to climb, but it was the third where the heat caught up to us. Dehydrated and sweaty, we were led up a route of 6b by Adam. Which is 5.10c in the American system of climbing grades, though even to me these numbers don't mean that much. What I know is that the hardest I've climbed is 6a and this route kicked my butt. (meaning I got pulled up past the hardest part of the pitch, ope) We all summited this pinnacle, but it was a tough situation at the top. 

At the top of the first pitch (one pitch is typically one half-length of rope, in our case 30 meters/98 feet)

Our view for the entire climb was amazing: for once no burnt-brown grass!

I belay and Adam leads the 6b pitch. Notice the two-rope setup, convenient when climbing with three people. Myself on the end of the red, and Frida on the blue. This was the classical route up to the top- there are many other ones which are among the hardest on a pinnacle in France! 

At the top, pretty barbecued after three hours in the sun. Climbing in Sweden and Ireland didn't prepare us for this! The view was exceptional though- this is what makes climbing great.

Essentially it became a race back to the car for water! It was easy enough to get to the base and de-rig the ropes, but the the descent back to the valley took another half hour. No delirium, hallucinations, or calls to the mountain rescue team, but a close call regardless. 

Camille and Émilie on the other hand had been hiking all day and had no such worries except for being filthy with sweat, dirt, and sunscreen like us. A quick water-fountain bath rectified this and we all had a nice supper, our usual camping fare. This trip taught me many things, and perhaps the most valuable is that you can store parmesan cheese in a hot car for a week and still not get sick from eating it! 

An average morning when driving through this country...

When I say this was the great Euro road trip I should really place more emphasis on road- this was most of what we saw! Another 8-ish hours in the car brought us further east, deep in the Alps proper, near the town of Pralognan la Vanoise. Émilie's grandparents have a summer home here and we planned on spending a few days with them. But there was quite literally a roadblock to our route there: landslides on the only route in and out of the place...

Of course we're crazy and took a hike! We parked the van where the road was closed, and did around 7km (4.3 miles) and quite a bit of climbing to get up to the village. 

One of the cooler hikes of the trip, despite hauling all our stuff!

I certainly couldn't complain about a long walk after being trapped in that car for the whole day. Despite the sweat, the mountain air was cold as the sun went down and the stream was roaring down past us as we walked uphill. On our arrival we were very spoiled with a nice dinner, showers, and warm beds. It's not a stereotype, they really do eat cheese at the end of each meal here!

This was a good opportunity to sleep in; which we did until 10:00 the next day. A short trip to town for bread and cheese followed, and by noon I was beginning a lovely hike up the valley with Camille and Émilie. (Adam and Frida climbing, as usual. I was still recovering from The Tooth two days earlier. And with a crag not even five minutes walk from the front door of the house, who can blame 'em!) We ate simply: cheese, baguettes, fruit, and sweets. The perfect combination with such an amazing place! 

We also stopped for a coffee on the way, quite a perfect day out!

We did more or less the exact same thing the next day, though scaled up. Lac des Vaches, "Lake of Cows", was our destination for the morning. Setting out at 5:00AM, we didn't see much for a sunrise, but indeed we had the paths to ourselves and arrived at this lake by 8:00. A huge day of elevation, but our legs were well broken-in by that point, and we were back for lunch. For the afternoon it was raining on and off, in light thunderstorms, hence our haste to get out-and-back early in the morning. A good opportunity to nap, watch French TV, and play board games, living slowly for once on this trip.

At the lake! Notice the snow, my closed eyes, and crazy view behind us. Glaciers everywhere you look, and I'm glad I got to see them. Crazy enough this picture was taken by a kind Swedish guy from Stockholm who was largely indifferent that we'd all met in his country. 

No cows, not that much lake, but a cool path going across it and amazing views on glaciers above the pass! Worth getting up early a thousand times over.

Mid-hike snack, mmmm!

On the last day I opted for a quiet hike with Camille on the slopes above the town, where we found tons of wild blueberries and strawberries. Our lunch wasn't so glamorous, only canned beans imported from Ireland. Something which I'd never have considered eating before this trip... but hey, people change! It's really not bad when your hungry and good craic to eat for the uninitiated. We found ourselves in a pretty good rain shower and hurried down the mountain, where Adam and Frida were waiting with the van for the next stage of the adventure. Italy! Europe is a strange place, where you can drive over one mountain and find a completely different culture just a stones throw away. But that'll be for the next post...