Day 10 Last day in Jura

Today was the longest so far with the biggest ascent. Won’t get boring with details though. Let’s cut to late afternoon …

it’s about 6 p.m. and I’ve done 70km and over 1,400m ascent, my knees and hips are complaining a bit, thunderstorms are predicted and I have promised to reach my accommodation before 7. So I turn off just before reaching the top of this col, which is about 4km from “Le Grande Columbier” an “iconic” Tour de France climb, I have had half a mind to get there to top-off my final day in the Jura, but it is not to be, I turn off and zoom downhill.

Way down there is the shore of Lac de Bourget where I have booked a small apartment for tomorrow’s rest day. And ahead on the horizon are the alps rising up. I am at about 1,200m altitude here and the pass of Mont de Cenis where I am heading to get over the alps is at 2,400m, so there is a lot of climbing to come.
But I have to tell you about the evening. Here is the little harbour near my secluded residence on the shore of Lac Bourget.
This is the view from my table in the restaurant. It’s quite windy, the lake is a bit choppy. As I eat my Tartare of Beetroot and filet of Trout the sun goes down and the lake changes from blue to purple to slate to ink (wine dark) and finally all is black under a cloud-filled sky, barring the flickering lights of towns around the lakeshore.

I’m outside under an awning, it’s windy but I’m sheltered so ok. But the wind increases and the rain starts, lightning, thunder. The wind blows the rain in, people start to abandon their tables and head indoors. I stay put for a while but then the downpour starts, big flashes of lightning, great claps of thunder. The head waiter comes out and motions me to follow him, I grab my bottle of wine in it’s ice-bath, inside most of the tables are now filling with wet and wind-blown diners, much laughter and exclamations and shaking of wet clothing. I am found a small table in a corner.

Yes I have a three-quarter size bottle of local white wine, cote de columbier! This is what it’s like: it smells of peaches, it tastes of lemons, it finishes sour and stony. Interesting rather than exquisite. For the next hour I drain the bottle slowly, enjoying the chaos going on around. I can see outside through a glass wall to the front where I was sitting. Rain is pouring down through gaps in the awnings, flashes of lightning illuminate the surrounding mountains, a group who were having a picnic on the beach rush in with pizza boxes and bottles of wine (all purchased from the rival restaurant across the harbour, they spend the rest of the storm out there huddling in the drier areas finishing their pizzas and wine. Inside tables are being re-arranged for the legitimate diners in various size groups, eight in front of me are joined by three latecomers, everybody kisses everybody else elaborately on both cheeks (so, the greeting kiss is still in fashion here). Then the lights go out, a cheer goes up, some start to sing. people light up mobile phones, there are some emergency lights, candles are distributed. It’s still blowing a gale outside, the pizza-eaters are shivering and searching for the final slices in their pile of boxes, the lights come on, the waiters are delivering food, the lights go off, but through the door we see that the kitchen has light somehow, the food keeps coming.

So the evening progresses with alternating light and darkness, howling wind, pouring rain, lightning flashes and thunder claps. I think I have been forgotten hidden in my corner but eventually a waitress turns up and I explain that I’m waiting for the cheese.

Thom de Savoie I recommend. After a couple of hours the storm blows over, all is quiet and the lights come on properly. I pay my bill and thank the staff profusely and head off for the 20 minute wander along a deserted lane to the apartment, the street-lights are off, the sky is clear and full of stars.