A wafting mist gazed through our window from the mountain tops replacing the sparks and roars from the night before. A little chill in the air indicating the coming of mountain country enticed us out to walk. The large lumbering river had risen, then fallen half a metre since the storm, meandering through the village as it noisily tumbled over its man-made weirs.
Another dis-used railway track awaited our much-used wheels. The track taken however must have been just below because it passed 3 of the 4 track-list test. The 2 tunnels weren’t there, the river was too close, and there’s no way a train could have got up those hills that we climbed, but the 2 of us and the train emerged at the same point. And what a point, a loop in that tumbling river, La Loue, and, with a chair for lunch.
This was just short of another stunner, the river village of Lobs, like our previous home, nestled in a valley, and split by the water. The usually flat streets that have taken us around villages are now taking us up narrow curved lanes following no obvious structure, then down, and like the river, meandering in all directions.
There’s been a Swiss-ness in the air over the past 2 days when the first cow bell could be heard, and then a rarer mule bell. Then there’s a whole variety of small monuments, flowers in barrows, cute signs etc decorating lawns, houses and shops, and more of an energising chilled wind.
The Swiss border is only about 15kms as the crow flies, but 35kms as the people walk, so 2 more sleeps will have us there. Mostly our health is ok. My back is creaking, my energy flags a little at times and I sleep better on alternate nights, while Corrie is still suffering some from an incident where she walked into a very low road sign (!!*##*?) which messed with her nose a little. Apart from that our old bodies have held together well, though I have lost more weight than I can afford.
When we finish and you would like to spend more time with us, go to the icon below this one: ‘France and Holland 2018’
See you tomorrow.