As I settled down to sleep last night, torrential rain began to fall which continued through the night accompanied by intermittent thunder and lightning. Fortunately, this time a puddle did not develop under my tent, although I did need to make a wet dash to the toilets in the early hours. It was still raining when I left my tent for a coffee and croissant at a nearby bakery where I chatted to an affable man who went to the same university as me, but to study theology, not geology. He was climbing peaks in the area with his daughter. While we talked under the bakery awning the rain stopped.
Walking up through low cloud, the first part of my route today was a steep climb up to the Col de Voza. Partly among trees, we also followed and crossed a ski run. Chair lifts and other ski paraphernalia detracted from the natural setting. At the pass, I crossed the Mont Blanc Tramway which takes tourists high into the mountain. From here I could have followed a high level variant of the GR5. I slightly regretted not taking it as much of the remainder of today's hike was by or among alpine settlements, neat and tidy houses and farms dotted along my route, whereas the variant was in wilder country close to a glacier. However, my total ascent today was a respectable 1000 metres, whereas the variant required climbing 1500 metres, which might have annulled the effect of my rest day. My aim was to reach Nice, rather than be too adventurous on any given day and compromising my knee. The buildings I passed were also of interest. Alpine style, stone and wood with wide eaves. A sign described how the traditional alpine farmhouse was built on a slope so that at the rear, upslope end, access into the hay loft under the roof could easily be achieved. Animals and people lived on the lower floor. "Éparrons" jutted out at the front, these were beams supporting the overhanging roof beneath which there might be a balcony from the hay loft. The settlements extended up the mountainside, some quite old as a chapel from the 17th century demonstrated. Brocks and rivers had been swollen by the overnight rain, turning them into foaming torrents, the water a milky grey. Fortunately all safely crossed by bridges.
Nearing the end of today's walk a sign pointing up a branching path stated "Les Contamines 5 mins". Unfortunately it was 5 minutes of steeply uphill but led me to the centre of the town where there was a square with benches and troughs of flowers, shops and restaurants. A boulangerie provide me with my lunch. My campsite, Camping Le Pontet, was farther up the valley.
The campsite was beside a park. Lots of children were about on bouncy castles and trampolines, playing table tennis and football, or paddling boats on a lake. A band was playing, although Bob Marley without the reggae beat did not sound quite right. As well as campervans and campers with vehicles the site was packed with hikers, most following the Tour du Mont Blanc. A set evening meal was served, you had to find your name on the long trestle tables, in a large room. People of many nationalities were there, individuals, couples and groups. As my immediate companions were busy on their phones, I had a stilted conversation with the hiker opposite from the Czech Republic. Difficult with the noise of everyone else talking in the room (my hearing is probably also failing in old age).
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