Part 3
Saturday 25th July (20th day)
We got up at 8 a.m., fried chips and eggs, and rescued the farmer's little boy when Gordon's bike fell on him.
We followed the Isere valley, which is flat and quite wide, with steep mountain walls on each side. It was very hot. At the third attempt we found a roadside restaurant where we got a 300 fr lunch. It was quite good, with a generous fruit course. We sat in the garden at a table sheltered by bushes.
In Chambery, we were impressed by the many new shops. We bought milk, apples, ice cream, and a cake (pain d'epice). We began thinking about gifts to take home, and looked around a large store.
We followed the Isere valley, which is flat and quite wide, with steep mountain walls on each side. It was very hot. At the third attempt we found a roadside restaurant where we got a 300 fr lunch. It was quite good, with a generous fruit course. We sat in the garden at a table sheltered by bushes.
In Chambery, we were impressed by the many new shops. We bought milk, apples, ice cream, and a cake (pain d'epice). We began thinking about gifts to take home, and looked around a large store.
Leaving Chambery, the road continued flat, with a cycle track in places. The road ran along beside the Lac du Bourget to Aix-les-Bains. We asked at a farm-house which was right in the middle of a residential area. They were very helpful, and let us use their table and chairs in the garden. They even offered us the use of their stove, and tuned in English radio programmes. We fried eggs, chips and bread. Again we slept on the hay, and again had electric light. I went to sleep whilst still unfolding my sleeping-bag. We slept well and woke at 8. We fried pate de pore (from a tin) and had creamed potatoes, and tea. At lunchtime we had a long break beside the R.Rhone, which is wide yet very turbulent and fast-flowing. We had our "wash and brush up" whilst sheltering from the midday sun.
|
Later on, we bought a 'pure fruit juice' drink, grape juice. We discovered that the bus we had hoped to take from Frangy to Viry, over a high range of hills, did not run as it was Sunday. We decided to walk it. There were two fairly stiff climbs, about six miles in all, Gordon remarked that as his bike had not given any trouble in the 1000 miles so far, he would send a testimonial to Phillips when he got back. Little did he realise what was to happen in an hour's time! We saw a village fete, with dancing, a tea party, and shooting range.

We saw children (photo) with bright red paint on their knees, and we wondered what it was. We reached the summit, Mount Sion (2000ft) and started the long straight run down to Geneva.
We were coasting merrily down, with the road to ourselves, when suddenly out of a side road came a motor-car which stopped right across our path. We both jammed on our brakes, and skid nearly to a top. I hit the side of the car, denting it with my front wheel, yet not even marking my tyre or wheel. Gordon did not stop quite so well, and his front wheel caught in the back bumper of the car, threw him over the handlebars, buckled his front wheel, and twisted his forks and handlebars. So much for his testimonial to Phillips! We both sustained grazes, but fortunately nothing more serious. Gordon's grazes on the face, knuckles, and one knee totalled 16, and mine on knees, elbow, and arm, 8. This occurred in the small village of Maison-Neuve outside the hotel "Au Bon Coin" (the Good Corner). All the villagers seemed to appear at once to help us. They gave us brandy, bathed our injuries, and put on a modern (painless) form of iodine, the red paint we had seen earlier on the children. The people cleared up the broken glass from a bottle Gordon had been carrying in his handlebar-bag. Strangely enough, the thermos flask which was beside this bottle was undamaged owing to the shock, our French temporarily left us, and we were very glad when a school-teacher, M. Cudet, appeared as he could speak some English. He acted on our behalf in the discussions with the car driver. We were chiefly worried about getting Gordon's bike repaired to continue our Tour.
There was no doubt that we had had the right of way, and we gathered that the driver offered to pay "provided the police were not called in". We were taken into the Post Office house to bathe our arms and legs, and were offered a drink of rum. They tied Gordon's bike on the back of the car, and we all went to the cycle repairer in the nearest town, St Jullien-en-Genevois. The grumpy repairer did not want the job, but he eventually agreed to get it ready in two days' time. He though that French spares would not fit, so it was very fortunate that we were only a mile from the Swiss border, as British-made bikes are common in Switzerland. The cost was £4.15.0, which the driver paid. An old lady who happened to be near acted as interpreter as M Cudet did not come with us in the car. The driver, a man of about 25, stopped on the way back, and treated us all to a drink, a Vin Rose. In the hotel "Au Bon Coin" we all settled around a table and negotiations began. (The Little Geneva Conference!) M.Cudet got the driver to pay each of us £1 a day for our two days' delay, and £1 for Gordon's watch, which was damaged. Since we were actually living on less than 10/- a day, this meant four days extra holiday for us! The contract signed by all, the driver ordered another Vin Rose for us, and departed with handshaking all round.
Vers, le 26 Juillet 1953 M. Cudet was a school-teacher on the Ivory Coast on holiday in his brother's hotel. He asked if we would like some 'sup'. We thought he meant soup, but it was supper. We had soup, quantities of roast potatoes, cheese, fruit, and coffee. Then M.Cudet took us to the village school-room and we slept there on the floor.
In the morning at about 9 o'clock, the village school teacher's wife brought in breakfast, Continental style. This consisted of lovely brown bread, homemade jam, butter, and a big bowl of coffee each. We had not lost our appetites, and soon cleared that lot. We then washed, shaved, put more "red paint" on our wounds, and did some laundry. Then M. Cudet asked us over to the hotel for lunch, consisting of hors d'oeuvres, veal, green peas, potatoes, carrots, cheese, fruit, and wine. Sitting there, we watched the Frangy-viry bus, on which we might have been riding, go past. In the afternoon, M. Cudet took us into St Julien in his little 4 h.p. Renault car, and insisted on having us examined by a doctor. After a long time in the waiting room, the doctor looked over our grazes, which were all clean wounds, and prescribed more Soluchrom ("red paint") only. M. Cudet insisted on buying this and some cotton wool to apply it, and also bought us a whole kilo of grapes. |
In the early evening we went for a walk. We discovered that, in the village of Vers, less than half a mile from The Crossroads, a shrine was being built to St Christopher, the Patron Saint of Travellers!
That evening, M. Cudet invited us to dinner. We were shown around the cheese factory in the village and watched the people from the farms carrying their milk to the factory in specially shaped containers. Most of the cheese mad is gruyere (the kind with the holes in!) and we certainly enjoyed the piece we had at dinner. We also tried goat's cheese, but did not care for it. We listened to songs in the hotel and watched the villagers come and go. We slept in the schoolroom again, and did not wake until 9 a.m.
Once again we had breakfast brought to us, with the same or an even more generous quantity of rich home-made butter. We said good-bye to the schoolmaster and his wife, and promised to visit them if we ever were near there. We drank some Anis, and they gave us a lot of plums to take with us. We said good-bye to the people in the hotel, and to the postmistress. Finally, we bade farewell to M.Cudet, who had helped us more than we could ever hope to repay. We sent a present when we returned home. Gordon caught the bus into St Julien, and I cycled. We had another real-strawberry ice, and went to see the bike repairer. After a little persuasion, he finished the job. Gordon's bike now has a 27" front wheel and a 26" back one, and the very latest fashion in French curves for handlebars!
Once again we had breakfast brought to us, with the same or an even more generous quantity of rich home-made butter. We said good-bye to the schoolmaster and his wife, and promised to visit them if we ever were near there. We drank some Anis, and they gave us a lot of plums to take with us. We said good-bye to the people in the hotel, and to the postmistress. Finally, we bade farewell to M.Cudet, who had helped us more than we could ever hope to repay. We sent a present when we returned home. Gordon caught the bus into St Julien, and I cycled. We had another real-strawberry ice, and went to see the bike repairer. After a little persuasion, he finished the job. Gordon's bike now has a 27" front wheel and a 26" back one, and the very latest fashion in French curves for handlebars!
We cycled to the Swiss border post at Perly. Not many tourists use this entry to Switzerland, and the grey-uniformed official did not even look inside my passport when he saw the British cover. We went into Geneva, it seemed very clean, as did most other Swiss towns. We sat by the lakeside watching the illuminations, which were like those at any English seaside resort, and looked at the great fountain. The Jet d'Eau, 400 ft high, which we had seen from Vers ten miles away.
As in many French holiday resorts, there was a casino. We bought ice-creams from a stall which offered 12 different flavours. They were much cheaper than in France, but about the same as English prices.
A dear old lady thought our red paint was blood, and pleaded with us to go to a hospital. We left Geneva after dark, and called at a farm on the main road. The old farmer was of German stock, and not at all helpful. Nevertheless we did get a little of last year's hay to sleep on. The next day we ate chocolate for breakfast and made an early start. The weather was cloudy the whole time during our stay in Switzerland. We set out on the Lausanne road (no.1) through Nyon, and Rolle, to Morges. There we found a restaurant near the station. The meal was very good. The meat course was kept on the table, until we required it, on a little hot-plate heated by two wax "night-lights". We were given a second helping of the vegetables.
After Morges, the road became very hilly, with a rough surface. We stopped for the night at the Orbe Youth Hostel, the first hostel of our tour. It was small, and very pleasant. Nearly all the hostellers were German-speaking, including the two little boys aged about twelve, who are always found in Swiss Youth Hostels. They seem to have no luggage, and sleep in their clothes on the bare mattress. We fried chips and omelette for supper. It rained during the night. We woke at 8a.m. and continued towards Neuchatel. We had a picnic lunch near the lake at Yverdon: bread, cheese, lettuce, and fruit. Continuing alongside the lake, we reached Neuchtel at about teatime. We looked around the shops, and bought several souvenirs. Outside a pastry shop we met a man who said he was going to Birmingham soon. We talked a little, and bought us a pastry. He told us of some cheap restaurants, but we did not require a meal then. We looked in the camera shops with eyes bulging.
As in many French holiday resorts, there was a casino. We bought ice-creams from a stall which offered 12 different flavours. They were much cheaper than in France, but about the same as English prices.
A dear old lady thought our red paint was blood, and pleaded with us to go to a hospital. We left Geneva after dark, and called at a farm on the main road. The old farmer was of German stock, and not at all helpful. Nevertheless we did get a little of last year's hay to sleep on. The next day we ate chocolate for breakfast and made an early start. The weather was cloudy the whole time during our stay in Switzerland. We set out on the Lausanne road (no.1) through Nyon, and Rolle, to Morges. There we found a restaurant near the station. The meal was very good. The meat course was kept on the table, until we required it, on a little hot-plate heated by two wax "night-lights". We were given a second helping of the vegetables.
After Morges, the road became very hilly, with a rough surface. We stopped for the night at the Orbe Youth Hostel, the first hostel of our tour. It was small, and very pleasant. Nearly all the hostellers were German-speaking, including the two little boys aged about twelve, who are always found in Swiss Youth Hostels. They seem to have no luggage, and sleep in their clothes on the bare mattress. We fried chips and omelette for supper. It rained during the night. We woke at 8a.m. and continued towards Neuchatel. We had a picnic lunch near the lake at Yverdon: bread, cheese, lettuce, and fruit. Continuing alongside the lake, we reached Neuchtel at about teatime. We looked around the shops, and bought several souvenirs. Outside a pastry shop we met a man who said he was going to Birmingham soon. We talked a little, and bought us a pastry. He told us of some cheap restaurants, but we did not require a meal then. We looked in the camera shops with eyes bulging.
The selection was far superior to that in French of English shops. We went on to La Neuveville Youth Hostel. The little boys on bikes, who led us up the cobbled side-roads to it, cycled up the steep streets at great speed, and we dare no dismount for fear of losing them (and a certain amount of nation prestige!) On arrival we met a German lad who spoke very good English. No! American. Almost the first thing he said was: "Do you know Henry Jelinek?" Now, we were at school in the same form as Henry for seven years, so we knew him well. This German boy had been in his form when Henry spent a year at school in Germany. It is a small world! We also met a French lad, Jean (Rheimo 3339) who was very friendly with the German boy. The common language they used was English! We often noticed that. In Youth Hostels, the language second to that of the country concerned was always English. We slept quite well in spite of the crowded hostel. As at Orve, there were no separate beds, but one long straw-filled mattress, each person having his own blankets and cotton sleeping-bag. Again it rained during the night. The next day we proceeded to Biel (Bienne). We cashed another Traveller's Cheque there, as we found that Switzerland was draining our money. Coming out of the bank, two ladies began speaking to us in German, as they thought we were Germans on holiday. Luckily one of them could speak English, as she had been an interpreter. They were very interested in our story, and took us along to a cafe to hear about it. They treated us to coffee and cakes, and taught us the German sentence which we used more than any other: "Ich verstehe nicht"- I do no understand! We were now entering the German-speaking part of Switzerland, but most shop assistants could speak French also. The gradual transition was very useful, as notices and shop-fronts were printed in both languages, and so it taught us some German, as we knew very little, and could speak none. In fact, the only complete and intelligible German conversation I had was in Orve Youth Hostel, when a little boy, seeing that both Gordon and I had grazes on our arms, pointed to them saying "Beide"(Both?) and I replied "Ja"(Yes). After Solothurn we climbed a 3000ft. Pass over the Jura Mountains. It was quite cold coasting down the other side. The girl in a shop near the top had just returned from a stay in Scotland! We had a lovely ice-cream (at reduced price!) with many flavours.
Going down the other side of the pass we were rather surprised, as can be imagined, to meet a railway train coming up the road! The steam engine was like one out of an American wild-west film. All the main-line railways in Switzerland are electric, and we probably saw our last stream train in the country. Even this one will have gone by now, as they were putting in poles for electrification. We reached Basle and stayed at the Youth Hostel there. This is large (140 beds) and well equipped, including interior-sprung mattresses. This Hostel is really just one big transit camp, for Basle is a key railway junction, often called the "Gateway to Switzerland". The girl in the office speaks German, French, and English, in rapid succession, and she is hardened to all sorts of worries. As we were booking in, some-one came to her to say that the party of thirty-six girls from Grenoble had arrived. "Filles?" (girls), she said, "but we were expecting fils" (boys). "you will have to tell the boys in D3 to move to E4 and E1". We cooked macaroni for supper, and ate it talking to two students from the USA, and one from Cambridge. In another part of the room, they were singing, mostly in German.