Almost once around Lake Geneva where the rich and beautiful people live. We didn’t meet any, but it was varied to drive on low-traffic roads and beautiful dirt roads, through vineyards and small towns, sometimes in Switzerland and sometimes in France. Mostly with a view of the lake and the mountain range panorama behind it. Once again we catch a glimpse of the white giant called Mont Blanc (over 4800m high). In this area everybody speaks French, you don’t really notice anything about borders. The pavements are slightly better in one country than in the other and the brands of supermarkets are different and have different prices.
It has been over 30 degrees celsius these days. Actually, we had thought that Switzerland would bring convenient temperatures in the high season, among other things. Thank God, it’s going to go to the mountains soon. Almost circumnavigated, we turn our backs on the lake before Montreux to top the Rhone Valley.
Last year we cycled down the other part of the river to the Mediterranean in autumn. It is the ViaRhone or Eurovelo 17. Now we cycle towards the source or better towards Rhone Glacier. But somehow it doesn’t go up. We cycle and cycle. The wind comes from behind. The wide fertile valley is framed by mountains, often covered with snow. We pass Aigle, just like the rubber boot brand. The UCI (race bike organisation) is based here and announces the World Cycling Championships for the end of September. It is a pity. We are too early, but we already test the route to Martigny where we stay at a campsite.
The next day it continues in the heat. Desert wind hits us in the face. We drink tons of cold water. Rolf’s T-shirt is also dipped. But after half an hour it is dry.
Towards Furka Pass it should go, but we are still in the plain.
Then comes Brig. The Glacier Express stops at the train station. Street signs indicate the status of the surrounding passes. The valley is getting narrower, the Rhone is louder and the sky is getting darker and darker. At a sign to a camping meadow directly at the Rhone we decide to stop and pitch our tent: Moerel. Report who has ever heard of this small, original place. In the village, the cable car goes up to the largest glacier in the Alps: the Aletsch Glacier.
