During all the disappointment and resulting embarrassment of my little GPS mistake, I neglected to mention that Charly Page kept a vigil at the window of his apartment, wondering if his American guests had broken some Swiss traffic law and were now in the slammer.
His patience paid off and when we came through the door he was holding a picture taken in 2011, some four years ago. It was of Louise and me departing Romont on our mission to meet the MG’s new owner. At that time we’d planned to spend several days with him but were cut short by a need to be in Nidda, Germany.
Always the perfect host, Charly had prepared a dinner dish typical of Switzerland but with a modern twist. Raclette is a Swiss mountain-country staple but usually requires a huge hunk of cheese near a roaring fire. As the cheese melts, the diners use a wooden paddle to scrape the melted cheese onto potatoes or bread. It is a slow paced meal, ideal for conversation and drinking a hearty red wine. The pace of modern life doesn’t always allow the time needed so the clever Swiss have come up with an electronic way to replace the huge chunk of cheese and the roaring fire. It is a grill-like device where slices of cheese are placed on coupelles, little trays that slide under hot wires…much like a toaster. When the cheese melts, slide the trays out and use a wooden paddle to scrape it onto potatoes or bread; garnish with bacon bits, ham, gherkins or mushrooms that have been cooking on the top grill and you have a meal at your pace. It did take hours but we were able to catch up on the past four years.
Morning came all too soon and after breakfast we loaded the Audi for our drive to Briançon, France. Huguette showed up just in time to say “hello” and “goodbye” in the same breath. Charly and I had already worked out the route on a map just in case Schatzie carries a grudge. Another short but quality piece of time spent with an old friend was soon to be behind us. We left them with an invitation to pay us a visit in Woodland Hills and waved goodbye.
We skimmed by Lausanne and Geneva and were in France before noon. The Swiss highways (even the small ones) are nicely paved and well maintained. The speed limits (60 MPH) were slower than we’re used to but the scenery helped pass the time. Once in France (no border checks) we pointed the nose of the Audi toward the Alps, now looming quite large in the windshield.
Just as we were about to enter our first toll road, Schatzie suddenly came alive and ordered us to exit to surface streets. I looked down the National Route that she had selected and all I could see was mile upon mile of roundabouts, adding several hours to our travel time. Taking the bit in my teeth, I headed back for the “Peage” (toll road in French) and despite her protestations, pulled up to the toll booth. It only took a few exits to realize that she’d been programmed to avoid toll roads by the Audi factory and she was just doing her job. Rather than take the time to re-program, we just suffered with her constant chatter as the Alps grew larger and larger.
By now we were in tunnel country and spending as much time underground as in sunlight. We were approaching the Fréjus Tunnel when Schatzie suddenly came alive with urgency in her voice. “Take next exit and follow to roundabout,” she kept repeating. Of course we ignored her and headed for the tunnel. This one was unusual in that it had it’s own toll booth. $43 Euros s’il vous plaît,” said the toll taker. That’s roughly $44.30 in U.S. dollars. No wonder Schatzie was so insistent. Faced with a trip to the top of an Alp and back down again to skip the fee, we coughed it up. Best thing was, we lost satellite reception during the 8.5 mile underground trip and Schatzie was silent. It gave us time to reflect on the statistics. The tunnel was first bored in 1871 for railroad use. The companion road tunnel was completed in 1980 and they’re still paying it off.
We emerged on the other side of the French Alps, just kilometers from the Italian border. A swift right turn headed us toward Briançon, France…our destination for the day.
Bonne nuit from France.
Louise and Ray
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