La Cluse-et-Mijoux to Jougne: Day 168

A day in which snow coated everything.

On reviewing the outside world from my bedroom window I discovered my surroundings white with snow that had fallen overnight. Only the wet, black road surface was visible, kept clear by the many passing cars. At breakfast I had a chat with a business person on the neighbouring table. Their company was extracting carbon dioxide from industry, from flue gas for example, and were in the area to persuade a factory to use it you neutralise their alkaline wastewater. Good for capturing carbon dioxide in the fight against climate change.

As my check in time this afternoon at my hotel at Jougne was after 5:00 pm, and I had "only" 20 kilometres to walk, I decided there was enough time this morning to join a tour of Castle Joux. The first tour departed at 10 am. It was in French. Fortunately they had a leaflet in English and the guide (who had interesting make up, with orange dots beneath her eyes) gave me occasional asides in English. I tried hard to follow the French but because it would take me a little while to work out what things like "dix huit quatre vingt cinq" meant in English, I would miss the rest of the sentence. The falling snow flakes gathered in people's hair as they listened to the history of the building. First documented in 1034, it had been added to many times since, including by the famous military architect Vauban in the 17th century. I did catch that the only damage inflicted by the large guns installed after the Franco Prussian war of 1870 was to kill a cow. Used as a prison in more recent centuries, one of the people imprisoned there was a former slave who tried to establish an independent state in what is now Haiti. An older story was about a lady, Berthe de Joux, whose husband went to fight in the crusades. After being told he was dead she became friendly with another man. However her husband was not dead and returned. On discovering the liaison he killed the man and locked up Berthe in a cell. She was only freed on his death. The final part of the tour was down a long spiral staircase into tunnels through the rock. These led to an underground well, but the water level was a further 100 metres down. A consequence, I assumed, of the porous limestone allowing ground water to drain away to the base of the hill on which the castle stood.

Looking down the long spiral staircase.

The tour took longer than I anticipated so I hurried to continue my trek. I was surprised to see the GR5 was signed beside the castle, whereas my guidebook had it heading in the opposite direction. Returning to where I left the route yesterday I found red and white waymarks continuing in two directions. I followed those consistent with my guidebook and GPS data. Later signs implied this was actually the GR145. Had the GR5 been rerouted? The GR145 is part of the Via Francigena, a popular route from Canterbury to Rome.

Whatever the current route of the GR5 I followed the path I had information on. My first target was the village of Les Fourgs. Snow covered the countryside but it was only four inches or so deep, and this morning there were often footprints to follow. Paw prints of obedient dogs formed a line parallel to some of the marks left by their owners boots. The path was through forestry and a few fields. Tree branches bent down heavy with snow, which they periodically shed, particularly on me if I brushed them.

Walking through the forest.

I had hoped for at least a coffee in Les Fourgs but was disappointed, the few possible outlets were closed, either for lunch or for ever. Seating down on a cold bench I had pushed the snow off, I had to settle for cold water and a cereal bar from my supplies.

The next stretch was more difficult. After a steep climb up to a chapel, the snow hiding any path, followed by a length of track, the route was across pristine white fields. There were no further footprints, and no trace of where the path went under the unblemished snow. Adding to the difficulty, snow began falling heavily. Visibility was reduced. The depth of the snow had increased both due to the new falls and because I was higher up. An unexpected roll of thunder disturbed the sound of settling snow. At least there were no snow drifts which I had once encountered when hiking in Serbia. Using the track on my GPS, supplemented at times by the route in my OutdoorActive App I made slow progress. A section of forest helped as the track was clearer, marked by trees each side, but more blank white fields followed. 

Looking down on Les Fourgs, the dark clouds in the distance about to bring a new snowfall.

An easy section of track.

My footprints across a field, here a semblance of track just visible in the snow.

Eventually I reached a clear track and progressed onto roads. After a diversion into forestry around Les Hôpitaux-Vieux I approached Les Hôpitaux-Neufs, my nominal destination for the day. However I had booked a hotel in the nearby village of Jougnes, and seeing a sign for it I diverted there.

Welcome sight of my hotel through falling snow, just to the left of the church.

I am now ensconced in my hotel. The landlady fussed around making me a cup of coffee and finding me "bedroom slippers" (I belatedly spotted signs about not wearing dirty footwear inside). Sadly I left a lot of water on the floor from melting snow attached to me for which I apologised. Due to illness diner was not served at the hotel so I went to the nearest place open, which was a Chinese. Finally, I ended the day at a bar with an immense choice of beers. I settled for a blonde (beer).

21.6 kilometres walked today to reach Jougne with 660 metres ascent.