After a posh breakfast and paying my substantial bill, I drifted down to the village and crossed the river into Switzerland.A nice gentle ride for 5km next to the river.Then back across the river to France again. The route guide said that today’s ride would include sections that are steep and vertiginous. I don’t like heights, so was a bit concerned.The path went up and up, and up. But the steepest drops, including cliffs some hundreds of feet high, were hidden behind screens of trees, so no worries.There is a walk along the cliff edge, highly recommended for the views up to the Alps, but I gave it a miss.I had a little peak.The path kept going up, no stopping until the top. There were walkers and runners on the path, it being Sunday, few cyclists. One young woman passed me, dreadlocks and pierced cheeks. Later as I was resting in a clearing, lying out on a bench in the shade, she passed again, in the opposite direction. Then after I got going she re-appeared, coming back down the path, as we passed I smiled and said “Hello again” she said “I am lost, I can’t find my friends” I offered the sat-nav so she could locate her position, or phone her friends, but she seemed to think she would find them. Eventually the path came out onto the plateau. These are limestone rocks, which the river cuts through in a gorge-like valley. It had been a really hard climb up to here and I had half a plan to take the road for the rest of the day, to make it easier.But the path through the deserted hilltop meadows looked so tempting that I stuck to the off-road route.And found a shady spot for lunch.Which was a pain-au-chocolat and a piece of cake saved from breakfast, since I knew I would pass no shops on today’s route.There was probably time for a little lie down and a snooze.The track went on for miles like this, through sleepy, hushed, Sunday afternoon sunshine.Big brown-and-white cows tinkling their bells.Then back into the forest, and more hills! Lots more.miles of great forest tracks, but forests are usually hilly, and I’m getting tired now.Finally I reach the road, next to this sawmill with very neat piles of orange planks. Now I drift on minor roads down to the town of Morteau. After a welcome shower at the hotel I find few places open to eat, but there is one advertising itself as a “pub”. Actually it’s a bit like a very modern, very large Wetherspoons, with table service only. I have a pint of Lager, Fish and chips and Trifle for afters! End of a hard day.
