Mont Blanc

This was to be our big trip. 

At first Anne was going to come with us, but her knee had been bothering her so she backed out. 

We were on our own, but well prepared. Elisabeth had printed off the directions from her computer and I knew how to get on the A40 in Macon heading towards Geneve...

...we were taking the peage (toll) route to its end in Chamonix to reach Mont Blanc, the highest mountain in the French Alps. 

Specifically, we wanted to take the tram up the mountain and for that we needed to find Le Fayet. 

I had gone to bed early in order to wake up early. My definition of “early” is to be in bed just before the village streetlights go out at midnight.

The tinge of dawn was enough light at my window to wake me. It was 4:30 AM. I wasn't about to wake up Margery at that hour, nor could I get back to sleep, so I worked on this blog for awhile.

Margery and I took off at 8 AM. Since it takes BB 2 ½ hours to reach Geneve, I figured it would take 3 hours to get to the tram. 

We stopped briefly at Elisabeth's house to pick up a cooler for our lunch, stopped to fill BB with gasole, had a bathroom break, and pulled into a truck parking area to take pictures of Mont Blanc. 

 It probably took closer to 4 hours to reach Chamonix.

Along the way I had kept my eyes open for a road sign saying Le Fayet, because Elisabeth's printed directions said that was where we would find the tram railroad. 

Every sign on the highway said “Chamonix Mt Blanc.” 

I figured that Le Fayet would be in or near Chamonix. 

So did the half dozen people of whom we asked directions. Only one of them suggested that we had to leave town, but even he indicated that Le Fayet was just minutes away. 

I found signs for the tourist office, but couldn't find the office itself. I found a street named Le Fayet, but it didn't lead us to a tram. At the railroad station I was told I could buy a ticket and take the train to Le Fayet, but when I said I had a car, the lady just shrugged her shoulders. I tried the municipal police station, but it was closed. Even the roundabouts didn't help and Le Fayet wasn't in my map book!

After touring every street in Chamonix at least twice, I figured we must have taken a wrong turn on the highway. 

One person had mentioned that we would have to drive up and up.

 Maybe we should have followed the signs for the Mt Blanc Tunnel.

That's definitely a drive up and up! As we were climbing I saw a rest stop with huge maps and pulled in.

There were 4 different maps and I didn't find the tram railway until the fourth map. Then I followed the tram on the map to find Le Fayet.

It certainly wasn't near Chamonix, but it was near St Gervais and I was sure I could find that town.

Mont Blanc

I checked Elisabeth's directions again. The town listings didn't match what the road signs said, but the exit numbers might work.

We reversed direction and headed back towards Geneve! No sign mentioned Le Fayet, but I took exit 21 anyway.

Again the directions on paper didn't match the roads on the ground, but suddenly we were in Le Fayet!

Now to find the tram.

We crossed the tracks a couple of times, but there was no ticket office or train. Then I spotted the tourist office and Margery saw a parking space. 

It was almost 2 PM by this time and the tourist office had closed at noon. 

The next office had the word “tram” on its marquee and the gal was just returning from her lunch break. 

She didn't speak English and it wasn't the right place, but she understood what I was looking for...

l'Arve River

and even stepped out to the sidewalk to point me

in the right direction. 

 

Down the hill to the end of the street. The tram? A droite (to the right). Parking? A gauche. 

I trotted past Margery and told her to stay put while I had a look. There at the bottom of the hill was Anne, the very tram I had taken 6 years ago!

I hurried back up the hill. We found a parking space, bailed out of the car, put on our hiking shoes and headed for the tram ticket office. 

Anne was no longer there. She had left about 10 minutes ago, but there was one more train that day. It wouldn't leave until 3:40. 

We had an hour and 15 minutes to wait, but after being in the car since 8 AM, waiting a little longer wasn't a problem. There was a nice shaded bench where we could eat our lunch. The regular railroad station was across the street and had public toilets. A Tabac store was around the corner where we could buy cold water and soda. 

We bought our tickets, 30 euros each, and settled down to make the best of waiting.

Other people arrived to catch the last train up and down the mountain. It may have taken me most of the day, but I was feeling good about having finally found what we had been looking for. 

At 3:30 the gal who had been selling the tickets came outside. She explained that there was a mechanical problem and the train wouldn't start. 

At first we didn't realize that this was the only train they had...

that if it wasn't working, we weren't going up the mountain. 

It took a few minutes for reality to sink in! 

As we headed away from Le Fayet we crossed over the Arve River with its roiling water. I took pictures of that brown glacial water. 

Then we drove home without stopping in a little over 3 hours. 

Too exhausted to fix dinner, we stopped at the Auberge in Blanot to let Francoise and Florence get us a meal. 

We didn't even have the energy to talk to each other. 

Later on, after we had recovered a bit, we were able to laugh at our day on the road. 

The views were spectacular and we at least had seen Mont Blanc.