We are at the Portland airport waiting for our flight to Geneva. We'll spend a night in Geneva, a couple in Chamonix, and then we'll begin our hike of the Tour du Mont Blanc.
Our first day on the trail is spent hiking to Miage.
We didn't do the full TMB route. Instead we stopped for a night in Champex and the next day took a bus to the train and then on to Paris.
We met in Geneva, hung out in Chamonix (i) for a couple days, which was just time enough for another visit to Aiguille du Mid, then we took the train to Finhaut where we began our hike. Here we are in Finhaut, stoking up for the days ahead.
Yesterday I woke to the sad news of Oliver Sacks. It wasnt a surprise; he had written earlier in the year of his diagnosis. And of course he wrote as he had written on many other topics - like the mysteries of the brain, recreational drugs, and being gay clearly and rationally. He lived an interesting life, made many contributions to the human condition, and was always a pleasure to read.
Sacks was in my mind yesterday as I hiked part of the Juan de Fuca Marine Trail, a damp, grey trek accompanied by the crashing of the cold Pacific. The Juan de Fuca Marine Trail is one of two long trails on the southwest coast of Vancouver Island. The two trails - the other being the West Coast Trail - would be one if it werent for the bay of Port San Juan.
The section I hiked was from Botanical Beach to Parkinson Creek. The hike is a bit of a slog, which is because the west coast of Vancouver Island is a lush rain forest overlaid on a jagged outcropping of rock. There is no flat land and there are no stretches of dirt path. The ground is largely rock and root.
Following the shore, which is what both trails do, means hiking a sequence of ups and downs, down to a creek then up to a ridge then down to another creek. And the footing sucks. The spiderweb of roots that blanket the ground are slippery smooth, just tempting you to stand on them where the slightest movement translates to a slip and a fall. There are the occasional breaks, wooden boardwalks and clever wooden stairs, which help make the hike a bit easier, but there arent enough and the dampness rots the wood faster than they can be repaired.
The day started with sunshine but it soon reverted to the norm of mist and rain. I spent most of the hike staring at my feet, calculating what placement offered the best hold. The hypnotic crash of wave on stone was background music to the hike.
Lucy the dog came along for the hike, her first adventure with the hiking group. She quickly assumed the typical dog behaviour of running ahead then back then ahead again, easily tripling the distance her fellow humans covered. She was full of energy all of the way but was so tired by the time she landed in the truck that, for once, she forgot to get carsick.
We were up early as daylight saving time ended in the night. Yesterday's fog was gone. Breakfast was in the hotels comfortable dining room. The friendly husband set out a buffet of coffee, juice, fruit, cheese, ham, bread and a dessert.
We'd a goal for the morning, to reserve a table at the Sever restaurant, which meant we had to walk to the neighboring town of Portagem. The town is in clear view as Marvao is on the hill overlooking it.
We walked to the town wall, passed through an arch, crossed the road then started down a trail past a convent. From here we were soon on the Road to Portalegre. Though we weren't going as far as Portalegre, just to Portagem. As we walked we were largely in the shade, from cork trees, many showing signs of harvest, plus other oaks and pines. The road's stones were laid out in lines and stars. It was tranquil. It also felt well trod.
After about an hour we entered Portagem. Here the Sever river runs constrained by a cement channel. In stark contrast to the stark colors and lines of the modern channel there stands a beautiful old stone bridge. We walked along the river and quickly found the restaurant where we made our reservations.
We hiked back up the hill to Marvao to eat lunch and plan the rest of our day.
It's a heat wave in Port Angeles today so we went up into the mountains to hike the Sunrise trail in Olympic National Park. The sky was a bit hazy from forest-fire smoke but it was still a beautiful hike.
The day started with a Seinfeld reference and ended with a hike to the highest point on the island of Naxos.
We woke to see the cruise ship MV Astoria anchored offshore and unloading passengers via tenders. The Astoria, it turns out, has had seven owners and ten names since it entered service in 1948 as the MS Stockholm, though I don't know whether this is unusual for a ship of this vintage. What is interesting is that, sailing under the name Stockholm, it collided with the Andrea Doria off the coast of Nantucket Massachusetts in 1956, resulting in the sinking of the Andrea Doria and the loss of 46 of its 1,660 passengers. Both crews shared in the blame.
If you are a Seinfeld fan you'll recall that George Costanza lost an apartment to a survivor of the sinking. While George's tales of woe drew more sympathy than the survivor's experience, a bribe from the latter won the apartment.
Now to the serious business of being a tourist. Most of our day was spent hiking to the top of Mt Zas (or Mt Zeus) , the highest point in the Cyclades at about 1000 m. The views are far reaching all the way up to the peak: we could see inland Naxos, the neighboring island of Paros, as well as the Aegean sea and several of the other Cycladic islands.
We decided to leave Algajola a day early, to get in some hiking in the Porto - Piana area. So we got back in the Citreon and retraced our path from a couple days earlier. Our goal was Serriera, a village about 10 minutes outside of Porto. After a while we arrived. On checking into our simple but roomy hotel we learned from the friendly proprietor that the road to Porto was closing in half an hour! Turns out the road was being used by the Tour de Corse. It would reopen at 19:00, she said. Since she spoke no English and we know little French the conversation took place courtesy of google translate which we used by taking turns typing into a computer. This worked quite well actually.
Of course we'd no idea what the Tour is, a bicycle race? A foot race? A car race? Turns out, well, more on that later.
We jumped back into the car and headed south to get past Porto and then onto the trailhead. The road either side of Porto, a road we'd driven days earlier, is both painfully beautiful and white-knuckle scary: it's carved into the side of a wall of granite and in places it is barely one car wide.
Within five minutes we were stuck in a traffic jam. Cars, trucks, buses, and motorbikes took turns squeezing past each other on this ridiculously narrow road, with granite hanging over us and a sheer drop to the sea below. On the bright side it was great for picture taking: while Paul sat in the Citroen's driver's seat I walked around and shot photos.
Eventually we made it to Porto where we discovered the Historical Tour de Corse is a car race. So that mystery was cleared. It also explained the cars we'd seen earlier, all decked out in numbers and stickers.
The hike was great: it overlooks the Calanche de Piana with its pink granite forest broken by views of the turquoise Mediterranean. Much of the hike follows an old stone path, what was likely an old road connecting villages.
Corsica looks to be a hikers dream as the mountainous island is covered with trails. We see many people decked out in full hiking gear. The Corsican trails are well marked plus every one I've looked for I've found in OpenStreetMaps using the CityMaps2Go app.
After the hike we headed to Piana for lunch then followed that up with another hike. We had to kill time till the road re-opened. We hiked about half of the Capu Rossu trail, which heads west out to a promontory with, again, great views of pink granite mountains, scrubby green forests, and that crystal clear Mediterranean sea.
Soon we were back in Porto where we hung out with the Tour racers and waited for the road to reopen, which it did promptly at 19:00. The drive back involved another traffic jam as cars, trucks, vans, motorcycles, and Tour support vehicles squeezed by each other to get to their destinations. At this point we thought we were through with the boy racers. We weren't, though.
It was a long day with a lot of beautiful scenery topped with a taste of an old Steve McQueen movie. We were glad to get back to our charming hotel, drink a beer, and call it a night.
Today we drove to a nearby mountain pass, hiked out to an odd rock formation, then ate a delicious lunch on a patio overlooking mountains, the Mediterranean, and the island of Elba.
About 15 minutes from Zonza is the Col de Bavella, a 1,218 m pass that offers great views of the Aiguilles (needles) de Bavella. The Aiguilles are rocky spikes of red granite. The col also offers several trailheads (the GR20 passes through) as well as accommodations and restaurants. The hike to our destination, the Trou de la Bombe, starts at the Col. It is an easy hike out to an interesting hole in a rock face.
We returned to our hotel in Zonza just in time for me to catch the last few cars in the Tour de Corse.
