Once it cleared, Andreas came over to see if we wanted anything bringing back from the bakery. I took a walk with him and picked up some excellent croissants, pain au chocolat and maple & pecan pastries. Sugar and pastry truly is the breakfast of European champions (and anyone who can’t be arsed to cook).
Andreas joined us for breakfast and we brewed him a coffee. Travelling light meant he’d not had coffee for ages, so it was a bit of a treat when we unleashed the espresso maker. Waking up to the smell and taste of fresh coffee is a real treat when you’re camping. Our little espresso maker is a great conversation piece and the envy of many campers. His wife was due to arrive from Germany later today in their motorhome, so he’d soon be returning to relative luxury and some small creature comforts.
Nice stretch of road to start the day. I don’t think there are any bad roads around here but the weather is always very changeable so a ride can quickly be spoiled. Left Chamonix and picked up the northern stretch of Route Des Grande Alpes. Cluses to Thonon-Les-Bains is always a treat and I was really looking forward to riding it. Unfortunately by the time we reached it the weather had turned again and we had to ride most of it in torrential rain.
Our trip took a serious turn for the worst after leaving Thonon. On the road between Thonon and Geneva we got shunted heavily from behind by some blind fool as we sat stationary waiting for a van in front of us to turn left. We were thrown down the road along with the bike. Don’t want to dwell on any what-ifs, but by the grace of God we didn’t hit anyone or anything else. We landed heavily in a ditch, but the transition from sitting on bike to lying in ditch is a complete blur.
Sprang up and ran to Catherine (or Sam, as I kept calling her for the next half hour or so). Seeing my kid sister thrown from a bike and crumpled in the bottom of a ditch is not something I will ever forget or want to witness again. Thankfully there were no serious injuries so after a quick check over we tried to make sense of the situation.
The driver was French-speaking Swiss. Arrogantly, he really didn’t want to speak any of my French so we had to search for a translator. Salvation came from a bar opposite in the form of a young chap called Xavier, his girlfriend (?) Jessica and a lady called Lorenze (?) (we were very dazed and confused but please let all that be right).
Those guys were great and we’d have been completely alone and lost without them. Xavier went through all the paperwork and exchanged details before getting both drivers to sign a carbon-copied motor accident form. They gave us coffee and sat with us while we got ourselves together.
The bike faired remarkably well. Apart from a mashed pannier and rack, damage was fairly cosmetic and it appeared perfectly rideable. The car was definitely worst off. This meant that with a bit of trepidation, we could continue our journey on two wheels. We left for the main hospital in Geneva who then referred us to a private clinic where we could be checked out quickly. We got a prescription which turned out to just be the worlds most expensive paracetamol and ibuprofen.
With some great emergency support from our backup crew back home (cheers Jon!) we managed to land in a hotel about 10.30pm. There’s no such thing as a cheap hotel in Geneva, but this one was less expensive than the rest.
We finished the night, inadvertently, in a gay bar. Catherine realised straight away but didn’t say anything and waited (quite some time) for me to notice. Apparently my face was an absolute picture the moment I worked it out. It was close to the hotel, it was open late, and they served us fantastic beer and croque-monsieurs (Catherine’s favourite meal is now officially ham and cheese toastie followed by apple strudel). The owner spoke excellent English and later brought a big dish of chocolates over ‘for the tourists’. Catherine swiped the lot.
123 miles
No comments:
Post a Comment