So, as we were approaching our second to last weekend in Nice, Jon’s mom (and most of our other friends) asked us “So what are you going to do this weekend?” Likely question, but we didn’t have a definitive answer. Jon just wanted to see some mountains. After asking a friend if he would help us with a good place to go, and if he would like to join us, he was only able to provide some help with the former; apparently a thesis was calling him, poor guy. He did however, suggest Mercantour National Park. Well, Jon did some research and couldn’t find anything to get us into the park, despite its rather great size. So he went to bed suuuuuper late after doing some night photography (while I slept, because I thought he was crazy), which allowed me some time alone to do some research in the morning when I woke up a few hours before he did. Before Nicolas’ screams had a chance to wake him up, I found us train times and a village to see in one of the valleys that feeds into the national park. Sure, we weren’t actually going to be in the park, but they were mountains, and we figured that was good enough for us. Since Jon got so little sleep, I decided (after consulting the unpredictable weather forecast) against waking him up and saying “Come on, lets go!” and told him when he was awaken by the screams that I had plans for us the next day. I figured that might make waking up to a screaming 3-year-old a little less annoying.
Saturday went by with not much to say about it; just some homework, some eating, some screaming, and some reading. I finally finished Julia Child’s My Life in France and I loved it. I’ve now moved on to my list of classics that I never read as a child, and the first on the list was Lewis Caroll’s Alice’s Adventure’s in Wonderland. It’s definitely interesting!
Our plan Sunday morning was to get up early and take the 7:30ish train into Breil-sur-Roya. Well, apparently it took Jon 20 minutes to even get me awake (I didn’t sleep well the night before, probably because I knew I needed proper rest), and after getting ready and double checking the train schedule, I realized that the times I had remembered we backwards; the train that left Nice left at 7:21, and the train that left Breil left at 7:38. So on top of being late, we lost 17 minutes in my mistaken planning. Thankfully though (and I already knew this), there was a train that left at 9:05 and we considered this not much time lost. The train into the village was fairly smooth, mountainous views all about, and my ears popping like crazy the entire way.
Once we got to Breil-sur-Roya, we were met by a very tiny, adorable little village. It being Sunday, and the fact that its touristy season doesn’t start until its warm enough to enjoy any water sports (since theres a wide river that runs right by it), not much was open to get something to eat. We found one place were we had the most amazing fries, and Jon ordered something called the Americain and I ordered a kebab. The Americain is basically France’s interpretation of American food smacked between halves of a baguette; one or two burgers split in half, lettuce, tomato, some sort of sauce to your preference, and fries. Yes, fries in the sandwich. It was delicious, but he couldn’t finish it. After finishing our food, we told our server that we were looking to do some hiking and asked if he knew of a good place to start and how to get there. He beckoned another girl, and she rambled off directions in the fastest French I’ve heard yet. Thankfully though, we caught enough words, and I was able to follow most of what she was saying through her hands, and we found ourselves a path. And boy was it a path.
The original path we found came to a fork, and we opted for the one that looked significantly steeper. The name of the path was the Boucle de la Cruella which translates to the curls of Cruella (DeVille? Hehe). Given the nature of Cruella, this path was nasty. Really steep, really narrow, parts of it were extremely loose, and I was not doing well. Part of the problem is our inability to plan proper amounts of water. We ran out of water about halfway up the mountain, and had to take frequent breaks to combat the rest. Its the sort of hike that gets your heart rate going pretty hard, but then every time my foot would slip on the loose rocks, my heart would skip a few beats out of fear, which would send it into an uncontrollable heart rate. Not fun in the slightest. But when we made it up to the top where the old château and its ruins were, it was well worth the hike. The view was fantastic.
One our way back down the path, we ran into a mysterious dog that scared the living daylights out of us, but ended up being totally adorable and unbelievably happy. We also found his owners a few meters a way further back on the path. Nothing like some doggy lovins to make you feel great! As we continued to climb down, Jon insisted that instead of going back to the village (where there was nothing to do for a few hours before our train home, but there was water) we should take the other part of the path that forked off at the beginning and see where it takes us. He always wins.
After some convincing, we headed that direction, and noticed that the river that the mountains surround was getting closer and closer to us. Given our thirst, and how crystal clear the water looked, we decided to keep going until we could find a way to get down to the water. We eventually did, and found the most peaceful place to spend about an hour and a half of our afternoon. We filled up our water bottle, examined it thoroughly, smelt it, and then eventually took a sip. It tasted wonderful; just like the water that originally filled the bottle. Sure, in a survival situation I wouldn’t have done that without testing the water first, but we were thirsty, not lost, and not far from help. So far, its proven to not be a bad choice, as neither of us have come down with mysterious symptoms out of no where. Jon was wearing his FiveFinger shoes again, which are much better suited for water than my Nike tennis shoes, so he took of his shorts (don’t worry folks, he was wearing under armor underneath!) and got in the water to take some pictures of the little bitty water falls around us. It was too cold for me, so I stuck my toes in ever few minutes too cool off.
Even more interesting though, was there were quite a few of these little purpley-blue butterflies everywhere that insisted on landing on us. I don’t really know much about butterflies, but they were not shy like they usually are. They landed on our feet, shoes, Jon’s socks, our hands, watches, hair, everything. They were adorable and entertaining. So while Jon was off mid-thigh high in ice cold water, I was being entertained by a bunch of adorable butterflies. I thought that sort of thing only happened in Disney movies!
Once we started to feel a little too relaxed, we decided it was time to head back into town. We figured we had just about enough time to stop at the first place we saw that had ice cream, have a little treat, and head to the train station to take the first train back. Sure, it left Breil-sur-Roya about an hour earlier than we had intended on leaving, but we did a lot more in our 7 hours than we thought we would have, and did not regret our decision. We were exhausted, and didn’t want to push ourselves so far that the last couple hours just wouldn’t be enjoyable. Ice cream proved to be a wonderful idea, as I ordered possibly the best vanilla ice cream I have ever had in my entire life, with chocolate sauce and whipped cream on top! It actually tasted like vanilla, something most vanillas lack. With a Coke to wash it all down, which proved to be a good thing to order since it helped make Jon’s lemon sorbet and vodka a little easier to stomach when he mixed some in. Definitely a good idea.
Our walk back to the train station seemed longer than we thought, since we’d had time to relax while we ate our ice cream, and were growing more tired by the minute. The train ride home was the same as the one there, but with a lot more napping. We got home and basically went into zombie mode; we didn’t even have dinner. This was all made better by the absence of a screaming 3-year-old, since our host family is out of town until Friday or Saturday. Yay for silence!
I’d say, good day accomplished.
Oh of course, les photos.
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- Breil-sur-Roya
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- Water and mountains? Yes please!
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- This is how the river is able to widen so much. Cheaters :P
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- Just an adorable alley.
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- My lunch.
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- Jon’s monster.
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- Before we started our hike.
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- The arch that marked the beginning of our trail.
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- Earth is so cool
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- Pretty stream
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- The view from the top!
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- See the little building pretty much centered in the picture? Thats where we started.
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- The castely thing.
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- The mystery puppy!
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- Jon can’t resist a puppy.
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- Did I mention how cool Earth is?
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- Trying to find our way down to the water.
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- I sat on the little bridge while Jon investigated.
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- Butterfly!
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- Butterfly on Jon’s shoe!
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- Butterfly tickling my toes!
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- Butterflies on my watch!
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- Butterflies on Jon’s icky sock!
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- Jon pouring really cold water on his head.
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- Butterfly on Jon’s camera!
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- The view from where we sat.
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- Our “new” bottle of Evian!
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- The best vanilla ice cream on the world.
Parlez Lentement. 