The Italian and French Alps
I left Sunday morning and headed up to the Italian Alps. I have not driven a stick in years, and between the twists and turns of the Cote D’azur, and the tunnels, it kept me on my toes. We used to play a game when we were kids where we would try and hold our breathe through the tunnels, I probably would have passed out outside of Villefranche. It was pretty along the coast, then I turned up at Genoa, and was pretty uneventful until I started to reach the Alps, though there was a stretch where we passed through rice fields, where they grow Alborio rice used in Risotto. Wanted to stop in Turin, but wasn’t in the cards this trip. Stopped the night in Aosta. It was absolutely dead when I arrived, even the town square was deserted. I was just about to coin it ‘sleepy creepy’, but siesta must have ended, or they all got out of church. I had a nice dinner at a place called Piemonte, that served local cuisine. I had cheese filled pasta, polenta, Veal braised with Junniper berries, and a great tiramisu for dessert (I’m a sucker for a good tiramisu). I took the back roads up to the French Border, passing through small resort towns, just as you would imagine with the alpine architecture, very tempting to yodle or something. The picture is the view from my hotel room. I will post one later of my trip through Monte Blanc.
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