Last day of the camper!

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Geo: 45.8996, 6.12846

We were meant to return the campervan at 10 am. In Lyon. Which is a good 3 hours' drive from where we were. So we were up by 6:45, hand-washing the sheets & towels before we return the van. Though I was able to wash the stuff by hand, we didn't have the luxury of time to dry them on the line, so I needed to get a token from reception for the dryer. They weren't open yet, and with hours posted, I wasn't sure how long it might be. We had a little breakfast before taking the dishes over to the utility room to wash them (remember that hot water thing? Makes a difference with dishes, too). Dishes done, laundry washed, and the reception was open, so I got the token and threw stuff in the dryer.

By the time we got everything packed (in 2½ weeks, we had accumulated and scattered a lot of Stuff around the van), it was 9:00. We definitely weren't going to make it to Lyon by 10. Probably not by 12:15, when both the bike rental and the van rental places closed for lunch. So, we stopped panicking, and resigned ourselves to a late return, and started formulating a slightly revised plan.

The quickest way to Lyon (from here – which helped us avoid the Tour and its associated traffic) was going through the Frejus tunnel. This meant we needed to drive into Italy ever-so briefly. We were only within the borders for about an hour, most of which was in the super-long, super-expensive tunnel (€54 one-way, for the camper!). But we saw enough of Italy to know that we'd need to drive slower to try to read their road signs completely. Such long words! (said the girl with German heritage and the 10-letter maiden name).

We made it to Lyon around 2, and decided to drop off the bikes first. They wouldn't return from lunch until 3, so we locked the bikes to their truing stand, and to each other, and left a note in the helmets apologizing for not being there at the right time. Since the "shop" was essentially the kitchen of someone's home, and the “warehouse” being their garage across the alley, all of which was well off a main street, we felt it was a fairly safe option. I should e-mail them to make sure they got the bikes okay….

Over to the campervan rental place by about 2:30, where they scoped out the van, and asked if there were any problems. Other than the back window that wouldn't open far enough to close again, the gas that wouldn't work, the overflow valve we had to fix, and the persistent annoying rattle in the window, no, not really. And whether they didn't see it, or it didn't register as anything worth mentioning, I don't know. But the Gap Gash didn't show up on the report, and they gave us back our deposit, so I didn't question it.

A taxi was called to fetch us, and we got ourselves onto a train to Annecy, where I had pre-booked a homestay with AirBnB. The people whose room we were letting had been in communication with us via e-mail, so they knew what train we were due on. Marc met us at the station (an unexpected pleasantry) and took us to his flat, about a block-and-a-half away. His wife Marie met us there, and they welcomed us like old friends. We shared a lovely glass of homemade pear sirop, diluted with water (so, essentially like pear juice) while they offered suggestions on where to go for dinner, where to wander around the town, and where we might find a duffle to buy. The room was a 2nd bedroom in their flat, sharing the bathroom with them. And a bed that wasn't super-soft, but a sight better than the campervan “mattress” we'd been putting up with for 18 nights.

Even though it was raining (not a downpour, but enough to make a lovely walk less lovely), we walked down toward the old town, and took their suggestion on a place for dinner, ending up at l'Estaminet, a Belgian beer restaurant. The building was full of character, and the menu full of yummy choices. If it had been just a little warmer (or we'd brought jackets), we could have sat on their terrace, overlooking the canal. But inside, with a view to the canal, was just fine for us. When Dejo's crème brulee arrived with a garnish of a fruit we'd never seen, we asked the waitress what it was. She said it was a “physalis”, and when I really didn't grasp that, I had her type it into my iPhone. A quick Google lookup, and we found it was not anything we probably would have encountered before. Similar to a gooseberry, in the same general family as a tomato, it was a little bit tart, but otherwise sweet, and nice accompaniment to the dessert.

After dinner, we were pleased to find that the rain had stopped, so we wandered around the streets of old town Annecy a little. This is the kind of setting that Hollywood works so hard to recreate. Just adorable, with authentically old & crooked buildings, romantic lighting, enough people to feel like it was a happening area, without being obnoxiously busy.

As quietly as we could, we let ourselves back into the flat, and gratefully conked out on a bed that was not attached to 4 wheels and a diesel engine.

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Photos

One last scenic view for our camper
This was outside of Briancon

The river in old town Annecy
The lights on the right are the terrace of the restaurant where we had dinner