Today I was thankful we have a small car.
After our morning repast at the Le Royal Hôtel’s faded glory that is its breakfast room, where evidently old people come to dine, and a quick goodbye to Nice, we started our ambitious eight-hour drive to Annecy in the Auvergne-Rhône-Alpes region. I had concerns that this wasn’t going to end well but we had no recourse at this point other than to push through.
Why a journey that would usually be around 5,5 hours extend to 8 can mostly be blamed on a particular someone of the short, dictatorial persuasion. Teko wanted to trace the famous Route Napoleon, the journey Napoleon took after being exiled in Elba onto reclaiming leadership in Paris, a route which would take us over the French Alps, through small towns, and consequently narrow, winding roads. Those hairpin turns on barely two-lane roads up in the mountains were to say the least, unenjoyable, with lots of what-if’s flooding my brain at each pass.
Apart from a couple of gas station and rest stop breaks and lunch, there was also a slight deviation to see the Gorges du Cians, and a longer than intended hunt for the Napoleon monument in Prairie de la Rencontre. Safe to say we were mostly successful – though delusional beforehand and borderline depleted afterwards, we did make it in one piece. Just about.