I wake up at sunrise. The views could not be better. The Mont Blanc and the surrounding peaks are not surrounded by clouds yet. The white tongues of the Mer de Glace and the Glacier des Bossons reach down deeply. A magnificent start of the day.

Today I want to cycle as close as possible around the Mont Blanc. Therefore I have to cross the Col du Joly from Saint Gervais. The Col du Joly is probably very difficult on a fully loaded bicycle and maybe impossible. To reach the Col du Joly, I have to make a long detour to Saint Gervais first. The direct N205 is full of tunnels and is forbidden for cyclists. So I follow the secondary road to Les Houches. There I see a small road to the Col de Voza. If I could reach that pass and eventually reach Bionnassay, I do not have to make the long detour over Vaudagne, Servoz and Saint Gervais. The road deteriorates rapidly and soon I have to use all my force to simply go ahead over the big stones. A man comes down and asks me what I am doing.
"I am trying to go up."
"It is impossible."
"Impossible is a big word, I would say difficult."
"I would say impossible. This is a footpath, not suitable for cyclists and surely not for cyclists with fully load bicycles."
"I can always try."
"You can, but you will have to return. Even if you reach the pass, you will have to. The road on the other side is very steep and narrow. I have never seen any cyclists here."
"You come here frequently?"
"I live here in the summer."
"And in the winter?"
"In the Sahara. I am a guide, in the winter I lead trekkings through the Sahara"
"I have cycled in the Sahara, in Morocco."
"For me Morocco is no Sahara. Mali, Mauritania, Tchad. That is the Sahara."
"Mm."
"Are you still trying to go up to the pass?"
"Maybe, well, I think not."
"Where are you going to?"
"I want to do the Col du Joly."
"That is also a footpath."
"But on my map..."
"It is a footpath, but not like this road here. You can try, if you want but it will be very, very difficult."
So I am making the detour over Vaudagne now and it is not unpleasant. The road to Vaudagne climbs high above the valley and then goes down. The road goes up at the other side of the valley to Servoz and goes down again. I reach Saint Gervais, the gateway to the Col du Joly. Until Les Contamines-Montjoie the road is paved but one or two kilometer further the pavement is replaced by a rough dirt track. Indeed it is difficult terrain. The road is steep and the stones are big. Sometimes the tyres do not have enough grip and I have to stop and walk. Cycling, walking, cycling again. All for the great views to the Mont Blanc. Unfortunately there are no great views anymore. Everything above 2.000 to 2.500 meter is hidden in clouds. If the views are less than inspiring, I have to focus on cycling itself. I have to whatsoever on this terrain. This road is much fun on a mountain bike without luggage. Still I am pushing my bike up the hill. After three hours of very hard work, I reach the pass. Luckily there is pavement on the other side of the pass. Over the beautiful village of Hauteluce I descend to Beaufort. At the camping I meet Sandro, a nice young man from Rostock, who is cycling from Genève to the Mediterranean Sea through the French Alps.

Day 23: Beaufort - Arèches - Col du Pré (1.703 m) - Cormet de Roselend (1.967 m) - Bourg St Maurice - - Petit St Bernard (2.188 m) - La Thuile - Pré St Didier 104 km

It has rained a lot tonight, but it is dry as I wake up. The clouds are still clinging to the mountains. A fascinating sight.

I want to go to the Cormet de Roselend over the Col du Pré. The Roselend I have made six years ago so this time I go up to Arèches from where the steep narrow road winds up to the Col du Pré. There is few traffic en route. The alpine meadows make this a great alternative to the direct road from Beaufort to the Cormet de Roselend. I reach the pass and go down to the Barrage de Roselend. I join the main road to the Cormet de Roselend and pass the chapel. It is not far to the Cormet de Roselend anymore and soon I reach the pass. A narrow, winding descent brings me down in Bourg St Maurice.

Now I only have to cross the Petit Saint Bernard to reach Italy. The road goes up with a steepness that never exceeds 5 percent. It takes 31 kilometer to climb 1.400 meter from Bourg Saint Maurice to the Pass. The pass is therefore easy going, completely different from the Col du Pré. I planned to stay at the camping in La Rosière but as I reach the camping at four o'clock, it looks deserted. I decide that I can go on as well; it is not too far anymore to the pass. Indeed, an hour later I reach the Petit Saint Bernard. So I am back in Italy again. The clouds have finally dissolved and I have spectacular views at the south face of the Mont Blanc, that rises far above the smaller mountains around. The Italian side of the Petit Saint Bernard proves to be very interesting. Landscapes change all the time. There are deep ravines, big glaciers and there is of course the everpresent Mont Blanc. I find a camping down in Pré Saint Didier. There I have the classic camping problem of a stove that does not work. Luckily Italian hospitality helps me out of the problems. The nice twin sisters of an Italian family take care of me and let me cook in the kitchen of the camper, but in fact they are managing the whole process.

Day 24: Pré St Didier - Val Savarenche - Pont - Nivolet - Pont 46 km

Today I want to cross the Gran Paradiso area. There is a dirt track marked on my map over the Colle del Nivolet. The pass lies at an altitude of 2.642 meter. A nice paved road goes as far up as 2.000 meter altitude to the village of Pont. The dirt track to the Colle de Nivolet is not visible though. I ask where the road might be. They point at a narrow footpath that is impossible terrain for bicycles, even downhill on a mountain bike is impossible on this road. I do not know if the road will be better further up, but everybody says that it is impossible to cycle. I do not know yet what implications this might have for my schedule. I do not have too much time for big detours, that is for sure. I decide that I am going to pitch my tent at the beautiful campsite of Pont and that I will walk up to the pass.

The footpath goes up steeply for an hour. Then I reach a wide valley. Just above the valley is the dirt track that was supposed to take me and my bike to the pass. There must be something wrong with the tunnel right after Pont. Whatsoever, it is impossible to reach the road by bike. I follow the valley for a long time untill I reach the paved road that comes from the other side of the pass. I can see the pass now behind a beautiful lake. I decide to walk to the lake over the asphalt. I enjoy the sight and turn back. Through the wide grassy valley I walk back. The sun is sinking low and the Grivola turns to purple. The consequences of the dead end road might be unpleasant for tomorrow but today is a wonderful day.

Day 25: Pont - Val Savarenche - Aosta - St Vincent - Verres - Rivarola - Caselette - Bussoleno 223 km

The consequences are surely unpleasant. There are two options. The first is to go back over the Petit Saint Bernard and then follow the road that I have already taken in 2001 over the Iséran and the Télégraphe - Galibier. That will probably cost me three days to reach Briançon. I will loose two days on my schedule and I will ride on known terrain all the time. The other option is not much better. I could go down to Aosta and then follow the valley until the Po Delta, ride along the last foothills of the Alps until the first major valley where I can cross the French border. That will be the Susa Valley. With two long days I could reach Briançon maybe. I decide to try the latter option.

Just after sunrise I leave the camping of Pont. I do not know how far it is until the Susa Valley but it will be at least 170 kilometer. The first thirty kilometer are easy however. It is only downhill to the Aosta Valley over the same road as I have climbed yesterday. Aosta is waking up as I have already cycled 40 kilometer. I ride through the center and take a coffee on the major square. On the road to Saint Vincent I meet a seventy year old cyclist who asks me to have a coffee at his home. He was a good amateur cyclist in his younger days. After the coffee stop I continue my way to Saint Vincent and beautiful Verrès. I buy some bread at the bakery. It is 12 o'clock and I have cycled already 90 kilometer. The southwind is getting stronger. Just in time I reach the end of the Aosta Valley. Ten kilometer before Ivrea I take a small road to Lessolo. A tiny road climbs up over the last foothills of the Alps. I have got rid of the wind but I have a steep ascent instead. The ascent is much longer than I hoped. It turns in all directions. Sometimes there are crossroads. Signs point out a dozen of villages that are none of them on my map. I am getting hopelessly lost. There is nobody out there, so the sun is my only reliable signpost now. I must go south, in the direction of the sun. On these turning roads the distance is much longer than planned. I should have taken the road to Torino through the Po Delta. For hours I am pushing on through the hills, most of the time I do not have to climb too much but there is always the uncertainty whether I am riding in the right direction. Most of the villages are not on my map, there are roads between villages that are not on my map and there are roads on my map that does not exist in reality. There are no hotels and campings in the area, unless I go to Torino so I have to go on. At seven o'clock I finally reach the Susa Valley after nearly 200 kilometer. The first camping is closed however. Continuing the secondary road to Susa, I do not find a camping until somewhere around Bussoleno. In the end I have cycled 223 kilometer today. That is by far the most that I have ever cycled in one day on a fully loaded bicycle. Way too much in fact. But now I can look forward again. Tomorrow the Colle delle Finestre is on the programme, a partly unpaved old Roman road, followed by a road over the Assietta ridge.

Day 26: Bussoleno - Meana di Susa - Colle delle Finestre (2.178 m) - Pregalato - Sestrière - Cesana Torinese - Montgenèvre - Briançon 93 km

Despite the monster day yesterday I am not feeling tired. I have slept comfortably well and I am looking forward to climbing the Colle delle Finestre. I have to climb 1.700 meter to the pass at 2.176 meter. I am not too tired but there are other circumstances that could cross my plans. Dark grey clouds are gathering in the west. Thunderstorms could possibly force me to return.

The first part of the ascent goes through a dense wood. The narrow road turns and twists its way up with a ten % steepness without any flaws. I am feeling well though and I am making good progress. I reach the unsurfaced part of the ascent. I meet a young Italian who goes up with a car to cycle on the Assietta ridge.
"Aren't you afraid of the weather?", I ask.
"Oh no, the weather will be fine."
"Have you seen the clouds around the French border?"
"Yes, if the weather comes from France, there is always the chance of a little rain."
He does not really seem to bother. I continue to go on my way. I want to have crossed the pass before the weather deteriorates. The road is very good. In fact, because the unsurfaced road is less steep than the paved road, cycling is easier now. Soon I reach the pass. A nice Italian from Torino has just reached the pass from the other side.
"Ooh, I see a heavy rain shower in the direction of Sestrière."
"Oh no, that are just clouds, we are in the mountains here, don't you know? It has not rained here for a long time. It will not rain today I think."
I am not so positive. I descend to the crossroads where I can choose to go down to the Sestrière Valley or go up to the Assietta Ridge. Both are heading to Sestrière. The first is safer, the latter is much more beautiful. I doubt. It is still not raining and there is no thunder. I decide to go up. After fifty meter I hear a loud bang. Thunder. I return immediately to the crossroads. There is a mountain hut near the crossroads that can give me shelter. Two walkers that go up ask me why I return.
"It is beautiful up there."
"And dangerous. It is not a good idea to cycle 40 kilometer on a mountain ridge with thunderstorms all around."
"You have to know for yourself."
The Italians never seem to bother. As I have reached the mountain hut, a terrible rain shower breaks loose. I ask the hut owner if he knows the weather forecast."
"I have not heard it but these are mountains, you know. Sometimes it rains."
"Maybe it will rain the whole day. Thunderstorms could be dangerous."
"Oh No, this is just a summer shower. In twenty minutes it will be fine."
After five minutes I see the Italians who wanted to wander over the Assietta Ridge, walking straight to the mountain hut. They come in. I look them in the eyes to see whether they acknowledge that they have misjudged. They give me an innocent look that says that the thunderstorm was a complete surprise, something that has just happened and could not be foreseen in any way.

It is raining and thundering for two hours and it is getting cold under the roof of the hut. There is no thunder a few kilometers around now. I have decided that it is too late to follow the Assietta Ridge and the weather is still very bad. More thunderstorms could be under way. It is still raining heavily. I have a chance to go down to the civilized world now so I go down now. Slowly I descend on the road. Water is flowing all over the road. An intensely hard and icy rain makes me freeze. As I am down in the valley, the rains stop and the clouds break open again. It becomes sunny again as I am on my way to Sestrière. The road to Sestrière is not special. The valley is dominated by winter sport resorts and cable-lifts. As I reach the pass in Sestrière I am glad to be able to go down and see new landscapes. Unfortunately the view is dominated by intensely black clouds and new thunderstorms however. After the short descent to Cesana Torinese I hear the first rumbles of thunder. It is not raining yet though. In Cesana Torinese is no camping but in Briançon on the other side of the Col de Montgenèvre are lots of campings. I decide to try. It is only 500 meter altitude difference to the col and there are long tunnels where I can take shelter for the thunder.

And so it goes. Between thunderstorms I cycle from tunnel to tunnel. I reach the French border and not much later the pass. I cycle as fast as I can to the pass, chased by a new thunderstorm. I am able to descend into the Durance Valley. It is raining terribly but the thunder is still a few kilomter far away. The last three kilometers to Briançon I am racing with the thunder on my heels. I decide to take a hotel as the campings are all a few kilometer up the mountains. I am able to dry my tent this way too. I say to myself that I have deserved a bit of luxury after the last intense days.

Day 27: Briançon - Cervières - Col d'Izoard (2.361 m) - Arvieux - Guillestre 52 km

After a few overtly long and physically demanding days I want to take it slow today. The thunderstorms are over now. The last clouds are hanging around the mountains but it is going to be a sunny day. For the fourth time I will climb the Col d'Izoard, my favourite ascent in the Alps. Then I will go down to Guillestre. No other climbs today! I wander through the streets of Briançon just to hang around and look at the town before the tourists will take over later in the morning. The citizens of Brian&$231;on are proud people. Signs show that this is the most sport-minded city of France. Yesterday I have only seen people eating and shopping. And now in the morning everybody is sleeping. I wonder exactly when the citizens of Briançon are busy sporting. Maybe it is like the sign suggests only in their minds. Other signs show that Briançon is the highest city of Europe. The citizens are also proud of their cultural heritage. Signs show that Briançon has registered itself by the United Nations to be a UNESCO World heritage sight. Last but not least there should be 380 sunshine days in Briançon, although I have been five times in Briançon and four times it was raining heavily at the moment I reached the city.

The ascent to the Col d'Izoard is wonderful again. There are virtually no cars on the Izoard. There are many cyclists under way with their racing bikes. I am talking with a lot of cyclists, for many of them the Izoard is a once in a lifetime experience, a first and only time to fulfill a long Tour de France climb. The legend of the Tour de France has not completely faded away.

Cervières is a very nice village at the confluence of two valleys. The most famous part of the road is the Casse Déserte, a series of huge scree slopes with earth pyramids randomly spread, towering high above the hillslope. The road down to Guillestre has some nice gorges. Guillestre is a pretty village with a nice atmosphere. At the camping I meet Tom, a fellow cyclist. We take a beer in the village discussing all the ascents around. For Tom it is the first time to cycle on a fully loaded bicycle and he is very enthusiastic about it, wants to know everything. Where to go, where not to go. Tomorrow he will do the Col de Vars. I will go for the Col du Parpaillon, which is a very rough dirt track. Tom cannot make it on that col with his bicycle but maybe we see each any place, any time.

Day 28: Guillestre - Crévoux - Col du Parpaillon (2.640 m) - Jausiers - Barcelonnette 77 km

On a small road I am cycling above the Durance. It is wonderfully quiet and there are good views over the Lac de Serre-Ponçon. After Saint André d'Embrun the road goes up steeply to Crévoux. My very first cycling experience was here, sixteen years ago, I was nineteen by then. Frank van Nispen and I hired mountain bikes and went up to Crévoux. I felt strong and went up fast, but not for long. I had not eaten and after a few kilometer I sat down along the road with shaking knees. The rest of the day I felt very weak. This time must be a better experience than sixteen years ago!

After Crévoux the dirt track to the 2.645 meter high Col du Parpaillon begins. The road is forbidden for cars and motor cyclists but jeeps are allowed. Steep rocky mountains surround me. The road is made of big stones and goes up with ten percent all the time. It is just possible to cycle. Flies are circling by hundreds before my head. They try to sit down on my nose, in my nose, on my mouth, in my mouth or on my eyes. Some of them bite. I am having a hard time manoeuvring between the big stones with one hand and waving the flies away with my other hand. In the meantime I have climbed above the treeline. Through alpine meadows with thousands of flowers I go up. Steep mountains are still surrounding me but gradually I am climbing above the rock cliffs and above the surrounding mountains. Then I reach the tunnel. The road does not climb up all the way to the pass; instead an unlightened tunnel of a few hundred meter cuts through the mountain.

Slowly I walk through the tunnel. Water is dripping everywhere, Sometimes I am wading through big puddles. It is creepy not to see the dripping water, the big stones, the puddles and pools and the walls of the tunnel. The only thing visible is the white spot which is marking the end of the tunnel. I hear voices, there must be some other people in the tunnel. At the end of the tunnel, I catch them up. A man and a woman with large backpacks are touring around. They will return again through the tunnel. I eat some chocolate and I begin on the long way down. The road goes down over a big hillslope with a few large hairpins. The descent is quite steep with big stones. Carefully and concentrated and slowly I go down.

It takes a long time before I reach the forest. The road is not so steep anymore and the stones are not too big. I am just rolling on as in a sudden moment I am sliding over the ground head first. With my face I am sliding over the ground, the rest of my body following. I am lying on the ground, my bicycle two meter before me. Am I okay? I lift my left arm. Okay. Right arm. okay. Left leg. Okay. Right leg. okay. I see a liitle blood on the ground. I spit. Red. I check my teeth but they are all firmly there. A liitle inspection shows me that I am pretty much okay. My chin is bleeding a bit, on my hands a few spots are bleeding and on my knees and a hip. Nowhere I am bleeding heavily. The worst is the inside of my mouth. My bicycle is okay too. I do not know what went wrong. I think that my front wheel must have slided over big stone. I did not use my brakes and the road was straight, no curves, not steep anymore.

Very slowly and carefully I continue my way. Within a minute I reach the pavement. It is in the last two hundred meter that I have fallen. There is a small chapel with a fresh water fountain. I wash the little wounds and slowly I descend to La Condamine. I am gald as I finally reach the flat Ubaye Valley. From here the camping of Barcelonnette is easily reached. I feel a sense of relief that I have not fallen again. The song "Fly like an Eagle" from Steve Miller is teasingly playing in my head.

Day 29: Barcelonnette - Bayasse - St Etinee de Tinée - Col de la Moutuère (2.444 m) - Col de la Bonette (2.802 m) - St Sauveur sur Tinée 94 km

I say goodbye to all the nice camping guests. There are a lot of cyclists on the camping and everybody is eager to exchange experiences. Yesterday evening was filled with these kind of discussions. Now it is time to go on my way again. I go up through the Bachelard Valley in the direction of the Col de la Cayolle. I have not planned to cycle all the way up the Cayolle. In Bayasse I will follow the dirt track to the col de la Moutière and subsequently the Col du Restefond. There I will join the main asphalt road to the Col de la Bonette, the gateway to the Mediterranean.

The Bachelard Valley is beautiful with its gorges and its nice villages. The road is not steep. Sometimes there are steep ravines along the narrow road. In Bayasse I leave the Bachelard Valley. A dust track with big stones is leading up to the Col de la Moutière. Apart from the flies this is the best cycling territory possible. There are no cars, once in an hour a jeep is passing by. Sometimes I see a group of walkers. There are no cyclists. You must be a bit crazy to cycle here, especially on a fully loaded bicycle. It is just possible to move on. At the end of the valley the road leads through scree slopes with huge boulders. The Cime de la Bonette is still towering a few hundred meter above my head. First the Moutière. I reach the pass from where I can see in the direction of the Mediterranean. If I go down here, I can ride straight to Nice without having to climb again.

That is not what I am going to do. I descend a little and head for the Col du Restefond. I have to climb a few hundred meter over the stony pathway until I join the main Bonette road from Jausiers. Through a deserted world of big stones and a few patches of grasses I continue my way up. It is completely silent and still. Sometimes I see or hear a marmot. Further there is not a living soul here.

Finally I reach the Col du Restefond and leave the stony road behind. Two kilometer of smooth asphalt leads to the 2.802 meter high Col de la Bonette, the highest asphalt road of the Alps. The Bonette is not the highest road of Europe, though. The Pico de Veleta in the Sierra Nevada in Spain is 3.400 meter high.

Soon I reach the Col de la Bonette. I hear somebody call my name. It is Tom, the fellow cyclist I have met in Guillestre. We could not meet at a better place. Tom has cycled up the Bonette without luggage, tomorrow he will move with luggage over the Cayolle.

After this nice meeting I go down the long way to Nice. It is possible to go down to the Mediterranean Sea without having to climb for another col, but that is not what I intend to do. Still I may go down a lot. The first part of the descent follow ever new ridges. There are astounding views in all directions. The border regions east from Barcelonnette to northeast from Nice are part of the National Park du Mercantour, one of the six National Parks of France. The region is drier than the rest of the Alps, although there are very green areas. Steep valleys and villages perched high on lonely hill tops are the trademark characteristics of the area. I end the day at Saint Sauveay sur Tinée at an altitude of no more than 500 meter.

Day 30: St Sauveur sur Tinée - Col Saint Martin (1.500 m) - St Martin Vésubie - Col de la Porte (1.068 m) - L'Escarène - Peille - Nice - Cagnes sur Mer - St Paul de Vence - Vence 159 km

It is cloudy as I climb my way up the Col St Martin. The ascent brings me thousand meter higher at the pass of 1.500 meter. I descend to St Martin Vésubie, a nice small city in the middle of the green mountains of the Alpes Maritimes. The city lies steep above the river, a fascinating sight. I proceed my way over the Col de la Porte and the Col St Roch to the beautiful village of Lucéram.

In L'Escarène the road is blocked due to repair works. I have nearly reached Nice now. I decide that I have time enough to make a detour over the high village of Peille. It is not the direct road, but a very obscure road with lots of loose stones on the asphalt. The road goes up and down all the time. Because of the loose stones, the steepness of the road and the unpredictable curves I am going very slow. I am completely alone for a long time now and I am not sure if I am actually going in the right direction.

After two hours I still have not reached the village as I reach a crossroads. I do not know whether I have to turn left or right. The only sign points in the direction from which I came and says that it is a very dangerous road that can best be avoided. I decide to turn left, a kind of a wild guess in fact. After three kilometer ascent a wild dog comes in my direction and sniffs at my food bag. The dog jumps before my bicycle, hoping that I will stop. I do not stop but the dog is still circling around me, every time trying to jump before my bicycle. The dog is beginning to loose his patience with me and I am beginning to loose my patience as well. I have enough of this cat and mouse game. I growl as dominant as I can. For a moment the dog is impressed and jumps away. This gives me just enough time to stop and take a big stone before the dog is back too attack. As I am threatening with the stone high above my head, two women come walking from around the corner.
"Hey, what are you doing?", one is shouting.
"A wild dog is trying to attack me."
"That is not a wild dog! That is my dog. He is very sweet."
I feel this is very embarrassing situation. Maybe I have seen too much wild dogs in my life. As the women explain that I am riding in the wrong direction, I am feeling like a fool. Ashamed I cycle back. Not far. I have a flat tyre.

After reaching Peille, the road finally goes down. I pass the twin village Peillon, that lies spectacularly on top of a big rock pinnacle. I am on the big road to Nice now. It takes ten dull kilometers through the suburbs before I reach the big city. I move further until I reach the Mediterranean Sea. After three thousand kilometer, after 30 days, at six o'clock in the evening, I have made the complete crossing of the Alps from Vienna to Nice. I am riding over the Promenade des Anglais now, the long boulevard between the city and the beach. I have crossed the Alps now but this is not the end of the trip. Avignon is the end of this journey, as that is the place where the bus back home will pick me up. Today I will have to cycle a bit further as well, as I do not want to sleep in Nice, nor on a busy camping along the sea. I think that St Paul de Vence or Vence will be the best bet to find a camping to my taste. I have a difficult time to find a way out of Nice. In the end I succeed. Along the coast I ride to Cagnes sur Mer. I leave the coastline and climb to St Paul de Vence. I do not find a camping there but in Vence I find a well organized campsite. It is nearly dark as I reach the place. Finally I feel the fulfillment of the successful crossing of the Alps.

Day 31: Vence - St Paul de Vence - Gourdon - Caussols - Castellane 94 km

This time I do not have great blue skies above my head. A dull, grey indifferent sea of clouds lies still and silent above me, a sense of foreboding gives me a feeling that evil weather is coming soon. I am cycling in the direction of Grasse. Before Grasse I turn right in the direction of Gourdon and the Plateau de Caussols. Gourdon lies steeply above the Gorges du Loup, settled on a cliff far above the river. A great sight. The sun is breaking through now and the landscape is looking much more pretty. From Gourdon I climb to the Plateau de Caussols. As I am crossing the high plains I see black clouds coming in from the west. The dark clouds are far away yet, But that won't be for long.

So here I am. In the middle of the high deserted plains, forty kilometer from the closest camping and thunderstorms already growling and gnarling in the distance. I decide to skip my plans to cross some obscure mountain passes north of Caussols. Instead, I will go as straight as possible to Castellane over the busy Route Napoléon from Cannes to Grenoble. I have just reached the Route Napoléon as the thunderstorm enters the valley. I cycle as fast as possible. Apart from the wide road, the landscape is virtually empty. Then I see a garage. I ask a worker if I may have shelter.
"Do you think it will rain?"
"Definitely"
"Why do you think? It has not rained in two months here."
Then the rain comes in. It is really pouring. Thunder strikes in a few hundred meters away. I am really glad that I have found shelter now. The people of the garage give me a chair, where I wait until the worst is over. After more than an hour, the first storm is over and quickly I continue my way. It is 25 kilometer still to Castellane and I have to cross one pass. After two kilometer a second thunderstorm forces me to take shelter in a bus stop. From bus stop to bus stop I ride, sometimes I have to wait fifteen minutes for a thunderstorm. As I finally reach the pass, I descend carefully over the watery road to Castellane. Icy rain comes down by buckets and thunder is striking left and right. Luckily I am in between the center of the thunderstorms now. I reach Castellane safely. Soon I find a camping that has turned out into a mud pool. What is the most important: after three or four cold hours I have finally been able to change a cold shower for a hot shower.

Day 32: Castellane - Gorges du Verdon - Moustiers Ste Marie - Riez - Gréoux Les Bains - Mirabeau - La Tour d'Aigues 122 km

The whole evening the thunderstorms have lasted and the rain has stopped only just before sunrise. However sunrise? Everywhere are layers of mist and clouds around or above the mountains. The sun does not show up this morning and probably it will not do in the coming hours. The fascinating sight of the complex layers of clouds is soon replaced by a monotone grey cloud cover. I follow the Verdon river and soon I reach the spectacular gorges. The cliffs are a a few hundered meters high and rise up more or less vertical out of the river. I enjoy the view at Samson View and the Point Sublime. The weather is is not improving in the meantime. I have the feeling that it getting darker and darker. I decide to take the shortest road over La Palud sur Verdon to Moustiers Ste Marie.

As I am climbing up from La Palud sur Verdon to the Col d'Ayen I feel the first rain drops and at the time I reach the pass it is pouring again. Slowly I descend to Moustiers Sainte Marie. Somebody has leaked huge amounts of oil so that the descent is very, very slippery. As I reach Moustiers Ste Marie I take a long break until the rain is over.

I resume to go on my way as the showers are as good as over. The wind has turned and is much stronger now. The wind is coming from the north now and, as I am heading southwest, I am blown right over the road. The sixty uninteresting kilometers to the Mirabeau in the Durance Valley takes me a little more than two hours. From there it is not too far to the closest camping from the Lubéron area in La Tour d'Aigues. Now the northwind is working against me and I am feeling very tired suddenly. I am eager to give up my idea to cycle a bit further to the camping in Bonnieux. It takes a long time before I have finally reached the camping in La Tour d'Aigues.

Day 33: La Tour d'Aigues - Ansouis - Lourmarin - Bonnieux - Lacoste - Ménerbes - Gordes - Roussillon - Sault 110 km

As I wake up, the sky is perfectly blue but the wind is very, very strong and despite the sun it is still remarkably cold, just like yesterday evening. I suddenly realize that it is the mistral that is blowing. I know that the mistral can blow for ages. Unfortunately I will not benefit from the wind today. I want to cycle through the Lubéron region with its lovely villages and then go north to Sault at the foot of the Mont Ventoux. Tomorrow I have planned to go up the Ventoux and then descend to Avignon, the final destination of this journey. By far the most of the way I will have headwind.

Eight years ago I have cycled for the first time through the Lubéron. It was my first cyling journey in 1999. I went throught the Alps across the Galibier and the Izoard and went over Gap and Sault and came in the Lubéron. I had expected a boring experience after the mountainous areas but the beautiful villages like Gordes and Roussillon proved to be far more interesting than expected. A few hours later the expectations came true in the Rhône Valley and the Camargue but I have said to myself that I would explore the Lubéron region once more whenever I have the chance. After I lost my pictures of my first cycle journey one month later (that is in fact why my first bicycle journey of 1999 is not included on my website), that promise to myself became all the more urgent.

So eight years later I am back in the Lubéron with its laidback Provence villages. The first village I visit is Ansouis. Because it is still early, there are no tourists yet. A few people are buying bread in the boulangerie, a few others are reading a journal on a terrace on a place sheltered from the wind. And there is one young man who pushes a bicycle with lots of luggage up a steep, narrow street. A huge and seemingly useless effort. That young man is me of course, the Lonely Cyclist. Luckily the sweet harmony is not substantially harmed by the visit of the Lonely Cyclist and after a visit to the boulangerie, I am on my way again for the second village, Lourmarin, which is as beautiful as Ansouis. After Lourmarin I have to cross a hill range to reach Bonnieux, the third wonderful village of my Lubéron tour. On a cafe with beautiful sights over the wide valley below, I take a coffee break.

I complete my Lubéron Tour and take in all the lovely villages: the richness of Lacoste, picturesque Meénerbes, the steep village of Gordes on a solitary rock cliff and the colorful mudstone houses of Roussillon. There will probably be much more beautiful villages, but you have to stop somewhere. Roussillon is the last village before I am heading north to Sault against the storm. A young Belgian couple with two small kids come to me. The kids are interested in my bicycle and ask me a few questions. The man explains that they are doing bicycle journeys as well, that is why the kids are so interested. After the short interlude with this happy, harmonious family, I go on my way to Sault.

It was a really nice day so far. For more than a month I have made big ascents all the time. I have missed the pleasure of just travelling around in a relaxed pace. And once again I have to force my way up a mountain. I have to climb 600 meter to cross the hill range. It is not the climbing that causes the strain however, but the mistral that is blowing. Slowly I find my way up through the completely deserted hills. A river runs throug a deep crack in the hills down to the Lubéron. After some time the hillside becomes flatter and flatter and after a few kilometer further I must have reached the pass. I am going down now, ever steeper. I reach the lavender field around Sault. Most of the lavender has already been harvested, but a few fields are still filled with flowering lavender. Soon I reach Sault where I find a camping to spend the last night of the journey.

Day 34: Sault - Mont Ventoux (1.912 m) - Bédoin - Carpentras - Avignon 103 km

The last day, the last ascent, and the mistral blowing harder than ever. A soaring storm is moaning and growling. I am not even climbing now but still I am not able to cycle more than twelve kilometer per hour. The ascent from Sault to the Mont Ventoux must be quite straightforward in normal circumstances - ascents from bédoin and Malaucène are steeper and longer - but in these conditions it will take me six hours to reach the top. The road goes up now. It takes a tremendous effort just to go on. Although I am feeling extraordinary strong, I am riding only five kilometer per hour, sometimes even less. After two hours climbing I have had only ten kilometer of the ascent. Then suddenly the road turns substantially so that I suddenly benefit from the wind. At the same time the road flattens. I am flying over the road now. The next ten kilometer takes only twenty minutes. I have reaches the bare slopes of the Ventoux now. It is only six kilometer to the top now. Sometimes I have the wind in the back, then I am nearly swept out of my bicycle and I have to use all my force to go up with three or four kilometer per hour. The wind changes all the time on the curving slopes. The wind is chasing clouds with dazzling velocities a few meter above the mountain ridge, no more than twenty or thirty meter above my head. I pass the Simpson monument, then the mountain top is cloud free for a moment. Then again the clouds come falling like a rollercoaster across the mountains. As I cycle towards the Col des Tempêtes The wind is so hard that my bicycle comes to a halt. In the lowest gear I try once again to get myself in motion. Like a snail I am crawling forward. As I reach the pass after a few minutes, the road takes a curve and the wind is in my back again. I am getting blown, up the mountain. One last curve and I am on top of the Wind Mountain. Ventoux. Vent Toux. Everywhere wind, from all directions. The Ventoux is more than living up to its fame today. I have climbed the Mont Ventoux once before, it was windy then as well, but this experience certainly beats everything. More than the experience in itself, it is also the end of a journey. A journey with lots of contrasts. Contrasts regarding climatic, cultural and geographic conditions and qualities as well as personal conditions. I had expected the journey to be physically demanding. It was of course, but all in all it was much more mentally demanding. The solitude of a journey like this can break down a wall or two of unconstructive attitudes, but it is also possible that ambitions can grow wildly. Despite the experience of all my journeys so far I had difficulty this time to calm down, always eager to do more and more. Is it me who is digging life or is life digging me? Maybe the next journey will reveal the answers.

The End