Alpes-Maritimes - September 7, 2000

We got up at 6:50 a.m., cleaned up and had petit dejuner with bowls of café au lait. I paid and thanked the Madame and we were off by 7:50 a.m. The trail led down past the lake beyond the refuge and down a hill for about 30 minutes. Then it climbed straight up over rock and scree to Pas du Mt. Colomb at 2,548 meters or 8,360 feet. The Refuge de Nice was at 2200 meters so after an initial descent we went straight up about 500 meters. We saw some Chamois near the refuge and on the climb and I saw a marmot bound to its hole under a rock issuing a loud cheep. We finally reached the Pas which was small in area; a notch between two huge amazing rock bowls of mountains. It was cold so we didn't stay long. But it continued to be cold going down as the wind blew up the bowl from below. Finally we arrived at the tree line for the first time in two days but we were still on rocky scree as it had been almost all the way up – frequently the trail was just markings and you hopped from rock to rock.

We arrived at la Madone de Fenestre, another refuge, at 12:30 p.m. passing through pastures of rocky grass and by clear rushing streams with waterfalls and turquoise blue pools – all this with the backdrop of rocky mountains on three sides. We had a celebratory lunch at the refuge restaurant of cheese omelets, wine and beer (I had both!) and blueberry tarts. Then we visited the Chapel of the Madone and saw the Madone (who would be transferred down to St-Martin-Vésubie later in the month in an annual procession down from the mountains into the town). Outside, I reviewed the map and realized we had a walk of 12.5 kilometers to get to St-Martin-Vésubie. We pushed on as it looked like rain, cutting across and down the grazed hillside to a winding road to save time. I asked one man for a ride who turned me down. Shortly, we saw a path marked for St-Martin and after looking at the map it appeared to be a short cut so we took a rocky woods road beside a noisy stream and soon we heard cowbells. There were seven or eight cows with horns ahead of us in the road, and many others near the stream next to the road. We passed them and again merged with the road to the town. Very soon a caravan came by and I stuck out my thumb. It pulled over ahead of us and the man in front offered us a ride to St-Martin. We took seats, Bon across from the women and two dogs at one table and I at another smaller table on the other side. The two husbands were in the front, one driving. They were pleasant retired people who questioned us about all aspects of our trip. We told them how much we loved France, which pleased them, and where we had been. They drove us down the Vallon de la Madone de Fenestre and dropped us off in the central square in St-Martin-Vésubie. We thanked them profusely and sat down on a bench in the square thanking our good luck and waving to them as they went on. We then walked to three hotels, rejecting the third which looked seedy for the second which was nice but not fancy. Our room was simple with a nice balcony from which the mountains could be seen.

After welcomed showers, Bon got into her only skirt and I into my clean shirt and we walked through the town. Both of us were a little stiff with sore and blistered feet. The main street of the village had a fast moving clear stream running though a gully in the pavement about ten inches wide and three inches deep. This ran throughout the town and must have been used for sweeping away the debris in the street. No one was in the town which we assumed to be due to the end of the summer season. So we returned to la Bonne Auberge, the hotel next to ours, and the only place where there was a crowd in the restaurant. There we learned that there was a strike on "essence" or gas due to fuel price increases in France and that the gas truckers had been blocking deliveries to gas stations and across the borders. No one was in town because of the uncertainty of getting gas and most buses had been cancelled. It was a great disruption for many vacationers but being on foot we were not affected. We had a pleasant dinner served by a very nice British waitress whose parents had moved to St-Martin. She told us that we ought to see Venanson, a nearby town. We went back to the hotel by 9:45 p.m. and to bed without several other people in the same room – a great luxury!