Day 37: Montreux To Aigle

Looking back towards Clarens and Vevey.

The challenging terrain means that the Swiss have had to become master engineers, both in railway construction and road building.

Montreux in the early morning.

The older part of Montreux the tourists often miss — so busy are they celebrity spotting in the casinos.

Yes, it's another quirky sign! 

I just can't stop . . .

. . . taking photographs of Lake Geneva, and have a hundred more you haven't seen (thank God, you cry . . .)

You've viewed this on a thousand calendars and chocolate boxes. It's the Château de Chillon, and the Via Francigena goes right by it. Naturally I went inside — it was 9 am, so there weren't many other visitors. I spent a happy hour or two there. This is a popular tourist destination, and I was lucky to see it so uncrowded.

Just look at that walkway! This legendary castle is associated with Delacroix, Lord Byron, Gustave Courbet, Henry James, Salvador Dalí and numerous other literary and artistic figures  . . . 

I love this humble strip of geraniums. Ok, it may not be mentioned in the serious historical literature and audio guides most of the visitors were hauling around, but, hey, I like these choses cachées et imprévues . . . 

This is positively the last picture of Lake Geneva (Lac Leman in French and Genfersee in German. Both French and German are spoken in Switzerland  — as are Italian and Romansh in some southern parts). You can see the motorway curving round on the left.

Oh, well, just one more. Here another paddle steamer chugs out of Villeneuve at the head of the lake. And it's that Swiss flag again!

In Villeneuve I did a very foolish thing. It was lunchtime, and I passed a Thai restaurant offering as much food as you could eat for 20 Swiss francs. I couldn't resist. I stuffed myself — soup, salad, spring rolls, pork, chicken, rice, noodles. I would regret this later. At 2 pm I took a cycle path through the woods and left Lake Geneva behind. I was heading up a wide, flat-bottomed valley dotted with farms and maize fields, the valley of the river Rhône. High, wooded hills rose sharply on either side. I would be following this valley for three days as far as Martigny. After negotiating a maze of farm tracks, I joined the route I should have taken according to my guidebook, the cycle track by the railway line. By the time I reached Aigle (meaning 'Eagle'), I felt very lethargic and had stomach ache. I was glad to retire to the Auberge des Messageries and a room with a comfortable bed. I vowed to eat less the next day, though I had lost weight during my trek. Highlight of the afternoon: a young grass snake coiling and uncoiling on the cycle track.