Waking in Lausanne, Andrew wandered off for coffee while I packed up the tent. The GPS showed 60 km to Geneva, plus the usual variation for sights, sites, and trying to re-find the cycle path.

We planned to follow Cycle Path 1, to stay off the major roads and increase the odds of Andrew’s survival. CP 1 should also follow the lake, which means it’s flat. We then continued to spend a lot of the day planning to follow CP1, with varying degrees of success. 

Our first unexpected castle/chateux today was pretty on the outside, but not open to the public.


We both enjoyed the next castle in Morges. An unfortunate explosion in the 19th century destroyed much of the interior, and the chateaux now serves are four separate museums: tin soldiers, gendarmerie, World War II in Switzerland, and a cannon display. Also a scale ship model. 


The remainder of the day we worked our way around the lake, with CP1 dropping us down to each town, and then back up the site of the mountain to keep us off major roads, until the next town. By mid-afternoon we mostly had a lock on CP1 and stuck with it. Mostly pleasant countryside cycling with occasional side of highway (with a cycle lane) more intense interludes.

Upon arrival at the hostel, I checked the kitchen for my poor, lost utensils, and found my fork. The spoon, sadly, nowhere to be seen. I also found that the kitchen, while having pots and plates, has no shared silverware. To the person with my spoon, take care of it; it’s likely traveled farther than you.

We picked up Andrew’s gear stored at the train station and dropped off Andrew’s rental bike, caught dinner at a local pub, and returned to the hostel. Much of the rest of the evening we reorganized gear between Andrew and myself, made sure I had all of the jars of peanut butter and nut bars, swapped out some gear, and gave Andrew a few miscellaneous things to carry home.

200 km around Lac du Leman, Andrew’s vacation of trekking in the Alps and cycling comes to an end; mine begins a new chapter in France. I next head to Lyon, down the Rhone to the Mediterranean and Montpelier, over to Narbonne and Carcassonne, then up to Toulouse, Pau, Bordeux, and then a ferry to Ireland.

All, of course, subject to change.


2 thoughts on “Spoooon!”

  1. I loved Narbonne. Carcassonne will be WAY BETTER if you spend the night there. The day is like Disneyland. It was overwhelmed with tourists but I will remember it forever. I adore that region of France as it is peppered with the dregs of battles between Simon de Montfort, my evil ancestor, and those hapless vegan, polygamous Albigensions who believed they didn’t need priests to talk to god. Oh, yes, and the French paranoia about the Muslims they expected to cone swarming over the Pyrenees from Spain, les by Saladin.

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.