La Fête des Mères (Day 275)

Trip Start Aug 25, 2010
Trip End Jun 15, 2011

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Flag of France  , Rhône-Alpes,
Sunday, May 29, 2011

On Mother's day in France I woke up very early to begin preparing a 'canadian breakfast' for the family. It was the whole spread - toast and beans, bacon, ham, sausages, eggs (scrambled and fried) hash browns and, of course, pancakes... with blueberries, raspberries, strawberries, whipping cream and maple syrup!... I feel like I'm forgetting something... Well you get the idea, it was a large undertaking! It was ready around 10h30, so we ate outside at the table in the garden. The sun was shining and the birds were singing and I shared with them a good old Canadian brunch, which made them all very happy. 

After our large meal (and after digesting), Veronique, Pierre and I drove about an hour minus a quarter (as we'd say in french) to go hiking for the afternoon. On the way up we passed the strangest group of people in full-body suits, with all sorts of wheels attached to them and helmets and kneepads strapped tightly on, who were hurtling themselves down the paved road going up to the hiking trails. It was some kind of contest. At the sharper corners they had set up old gym mats and pillows tied with rope to trees, or old skis and ski poles holding up a little plastic fence. We also passed a big hippie campout, where exhibitionist old men stuck their bellies out at us as we drove slowly past. 

 Finally we found the start of our trail, a hike my host parents had done together, but not finished, a few years earlier. We hiked all afternoon, mostly upwards but sometimes flat and occasionally even downhill. At the 2/3 point, there was a cabin where we took a bit of a breather but then continued steadily onward. When we at last reached the end, there was a beautiful view of the valley, and an adorable house or warehouse or some kind of cabin perched right at the tip of a large hill.  I would have loved to live there, alone except for the paragliders and adventurous hikers who I'd invite in for tea and cookies if they stopped by....  Well that was my little fantasy for the rest of the trail, which led us to a large valley within the mountain, which dropped into the most crystal clear piercingly blue lake I've ever seen. It was supposed to be very pure water and apparently some people hike up to put some into vials or something to drink or to save for luck. 
   In the pictures, it looks maybe like a puddle but actually a human would be the size of one of the boulders. But it was getting late and Pierre had to work that evening, and it would have taken another 20 to get down to the water, then to climb back up the valley would have been 45 or so. So we stopped, decided to call it a day, and turned to head back the way we'd come and go back down the mountain. 

 Something about mountains, I don't know, they just stir something deep inside of me and I love being around them, climbing them, looking at them. Now that I think about it I am so glad to have been in the part of France that has the Alps! Maybe for my next adventure I'll head off to  Nepal, Tibet, or Peru... 
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