The only trouble is... we still have not figured out the whole Chamelet train situation. So today Alex is arriving by train, and I have driven down to meet him... somewhere near the train station. I know, I know, you would think it would be pretty easy: go to the train station, get on / off a train. Not so much. Because France.
First, there is no-one there at the train station in Chamelet. There is also no self-serve ticket machine. The station is in fact completely empty inside, with a single OùRA card swipe machine outside (OùRA is a monthly pass for commuters that you must buy elsewhere). Colin and I had tried to take the train to Lyon last weekend, bought our train tickets on the internet the night before, gone down to the train station the next morning, to exactly the place we had debarked when we first arrived here in Chamelet... and waited... and waited... and waited... the train never came. We finally realized we were supposed to wait at some other undisclosed location.
Without tickets and without cell phones, i.e. no way to buy another ticket, we got fed up and returned to the gite, to spend time setting up a Skype account to call VISA and SNCF to try to set everything right. The lady at the other end of the SNCF help-line was very kind, and spent about an hour total on the line with us, trying to figure out what happened with the tickets, how to get new tickets for later, and where exactly to board the train in Chamelet (no-one there knows... she might have to call the conductor). However, she was pretty sure SNCF would reverse the charges on the second set of train tickets, so all we have to do is write out our story in French and mail it to "this address," and in 2-3 months we could get a refund. We also could buy new train tickets at a different train station (wtf?!?), or online and print them out, or "sometimes" we can buy tickets onboard the train, but that is at the discretion of the conductor and there is no way to know in advance which conductor would feel like selling us a ticket on the train. She laughed apologetically, "What a system!" In the end, we drove to Villefranche-sur-Saone to buy new cell phone plans and all the Chamelet-outbound train tickets we would need in June.
So waiting for Alex today, I start with the obvious, and park my car near the Alée de la Gare parking lot. Of course not *in* the Allée de la Gare parking lot, no no, because today there is a sign saying the parking lot for the train station is closed. Frustrated train-goers have scribbled on the sign: "Whhhyyyyyyy?!?!?!"
Having no real clue as to where exactly Alex will be delivered, I position myself with a view of: the train station (on the left in the photo below), the other parking lot across the tracks from the train station (on the right of the photo below--and where the kind lady on the SNCF helpline told us he would probably be dropped), and the bus station on the Highway (visible in front of the darker orange section of building on the left side of the second photo below).
There is no train, but I soon see a bus drive through town. Although it doesn't stop at the bus stop, I decide to walk over the little L'Azergues bridge to the highway anyway, just in case. Yep! There is Alex, with his giant hiker's backpack and a big smile on his face. "They let me off over there," he points. It's about a block away, near the first highway exit into town. Sigh.
As we drive up to the gite, Alex eyes Rue Le Cocon and comments he was right to select the "car pickup" option instead of hauling his huge backpack up this hill.
We arrive at the gite just in time for "cheese time," which gives Alex a chance to settle in and take a load off. He has been on busses and trains all day. I ask if he is ready hike the big hill *without* the packpack, since Colin needs the gite for his work meetings tonight, and we need to make ourselves scarce from 6-9:30pm.
Alex is surprisingly game, so after cheese time, we head back down to Chamelet on foot, to introduce him to La Valée de l'Atlas, the local Moroccan restaurant. He has been reading my blog, and wants to try the Tagine Kefta. lol.
Alex must be my good luck charm, because almost immediately, we see a barn owl (the first one I've seen here), then a Common Buzzard, and then a big new bird flapping its way over downtown. We quickly agree: it's some kind of heron! (An internet search reveals it to be a Black-headed Heron-- thanks http://www.oiseaux.net, you are fantastic!) Fortunately, Alex had a previous partner who was an avid ornithologist, so instead of being annoyed at my incessant birding, he is happy to help me try to identify the birds we see and hear.
Trying to stretch out our dinner time at the Vallée de l'Atlas, to give Colin the time he needs for work, we order Moroccan tea and sweets for dessert. They are great. The time passes quickly, as Alex and I have not seen each other for months, and have lots to catch up on.
After dinner, we head back up the hill to the gite. Alex is a good sport, trekking up the steep Rue Cocon, especially considering he thinks he is coming down with a cold. I can see the fatigue in his eyes. It's not too surprising that his system might be weakened, as he has just come through a relatively arduous part of his journey where he was afforded little sleep.
He has been travelling already for about three months, from Vancouver Canada, across the Pacific Ocean to East Asia on a cargo ship, from Japan to China on a passenger ferry, through China and along the Silk Road to Central Asia ("the -stans") by bus and train (and donkey!), across Iran in a tightly-controlled government-issued guided car, then around and around the Balkans in circles by bus (it is apparently difficult to simply travel straight through the Balkans, due to border disputes). The above links are videos, because Alex's videos are AMAZING (!!), but if you are reading this at work ;) you can also read his text-based blog on his website http://www.alexgoesaround.com.
In preparing for his trip around the world, he had packed all kinds of medications, but nothing for the common cold. Fortunately, it is the only medication that I do take with me on every trip, so I've got a big supply at the gite. ;) He is soon medicated and sleeping soundly.
The next morning, Alex is up bright and early, making us scrambled eggs with truffles that he picked up in Croatia.
He is raring to go hiking the countryside to see various pastoral animals. He lights up when we offer to take him to see some nearby goats.
So we plot a randonnée route that heads North on Le Cocon, to the junction of Le Cocon and Le Cocon, take the left fork onto Highway D157, and head to where it meets Le Tremblay. There is a farm near there with very friendly goats. Then, we backtrack a little by taking Le Tremblay back up to Le Cocon, where the llama lives. After that, we head North to Le Desert, and take the "yellow brick path" from Places Cocon up to the wheat fields near Le Veru, which yields a good view. Then we turn around and head back in time for lunch. It's a total journey of about 10 km, a gentle 125m elevation change up to Le Veru, then the same back down again to the gite.
As we circle back towards Le Cocon signpost, we end up at the house with the llama, this time, looking down at him from above. He is still not too sure about us.
From the llama house, which is pretty close to the Le Cocon signpost, we hike North to Places Cocon. We pass a farmer at Cret de Meltrue using a tractor to push his cut grass into piles and troughs, I assume to later roll it all up into hay bales. At Places Cocon, we climb the "yellow brick path" towards Le Veru and see... the ashes from the fire we saw burning 10 days ago are *still* smoking!! It's quite disturbing. We then wander through shady treed areas and across sunny hilltops to the gorgeous wheat fields near Le Veru. We enjoy the views near Le Veru, and then turn back: a perfect morning walk.
After lunch, I suggest we drive to Lac des Sapins to try "off-road gyropods" (better known in Canada as Segues). Alex is at first confused at the concept, but after I show him the brochure, he is psyched.
We plot the route in googlemaps and back it up in HERE maps on my cell phone. Alex navigates while I drive the camionnette the 25km to Lac des Sapins. It's a little scary for me, because much of the route is on the highway, and the little camionnette starts shaking wildly when it gets above 70 km/h. Most of the roads, even the tiny ones, are posted as 90km/h here, and the cars don't seem to be too concerned with the centre line... when there is one. On several of the smaller roads, when there are no other cars around, I drive 40km/h. At one point on the highway, I have three speedy cars piled up behind me, and I pull over to let them pass.
Getting to the Lac des Sapins, we park beside the pony-riding centre and try to figure out where the gyropods might be. I ask for directions from one lady, who sends us to the park's Info booth. The Info booth lady first sends us to the Cyber-base, then back to the pony centre, before finally pointing us to a tiny green cabin around the end of the lake.
As we approach the green cabin, two people are on the porch, stretching, or perhaps praying to the gyropod gods, because... surprise: the gyropod rental place is locked up tight. We stand there, staring morosely at the hours posted, which confirm they should be open all day today, and don't see any hand-written note to explain when they might be back. We are both pretty disappointed.
We decide to do a randonnée around the lake, which is a light and level 4.5 km.
We pass a herd of sheep that are for some reason all trying to cram under the picnic tables, and several rental shacks. The only two that appear to be open are for mountain bikes and sailboats, neither of which appeal to us.
We wander through the restaurant to the paddleboats locked at the adjacent dock. There are hours posted for the paddleboat rentals, claiming they are now open, right next to a closed ticket wicket, and no handwritten sign to explain why they are closed. It does, however, have the first "Je suis Charlie" sign I have seen since arriving in France. It reminds me that next week, I head to Paris to visit a friend of mine who lives within walking distance of the Charlie Hebdo office.
From the Guinguette's dock, we see a group of teens paddleboating on the lake. We wonder where they got their paddleboat. Reaching the end of the "rental shack" area, and seeing nothing promising, we decide to simply continue our walk around the lake.
There are some lovely ducks, and a series of rougher trails leading away from the lake, but we stick to the main trail, which runs right beside the water. There are a strange series of signs posted around the lake, with cartoon characters telling us various moral stories about the environment.
Reaching the opposite end of the lake from where we started, we see a lady washing off giant inflatable balls. I recognize them from the Lac des Sapins website. People are meant to crawl inside the balls and float around on the lake like some kind of aquatic hamster. It seems terrifying to me.
However, a couple metres later, we see a wonderful sight: paddleboats! With an open rental shack!! Alex hands over his passport in exchange for a 30 minute paddleboat rental. The boat owner asks us if we would mind telling the other group of kids that their time is up, and they need to bring their boat back. Of course we don't mind, but as we head out, we can see the other group already heading back towards the dock. We have a blast paddling around the man-made islands in the lake. Alex takes some video.
After paddleboating, a little girl runs up to Alex to give him back his passport, and we wobble around a little on shore before mastering the trail. It turns out that no amount of daily randonnée equips your thighs for a 30 minute paddle-boat. ;)
Rounding the far end of the lake, we cross over a cute little bridge and get to the bio pool, which is, you guessed it: closed. At 4000m², this bio pool is billed as the largest in Europe, able to accommodate 2500 people. It is fed by a river, and flushes toxins through a natural grass filtration system.
The rest of the trip around the lake is really quite nice and relaxing. We get back to the camionnette in time to see the ponies being led out for the day.
On the way home, I miss a key turn, and end up on a narrow gravel road that meanders through many tiny towns. From my randonnees, I know that roads can fairly quickly disintegrate into overgrown dirt tracks with waist-high grass, so I get a little nervous, but it never disintegrates past gravel, and soon enough we are back on pavement. Today was a real confidence-builder for my driving skills.
Back at home, we relax with "cheese time" outside, talking about life, the universe, and everything until the sun sets over the hills.
