DAY 202 - MONTREUX TO BULLE: 19.4 MILES (38,800 STEPS)

10 November, 2011

19.4 miles (Total 1986.7 miles) 38,800 steps (Total: 4,278,001 steps)

On the map it looked as if the route to Bulle via Blonday and Chatel St Denis skirted around the base of the mountains that rise steeply behind Montreux—I was wrong. My normal walking pace is 5km per hour—if I stride out then I can get this up to 6km per hour, but faced with a steep climb this can slow to 3.5—4km per hour. Why is this important? Well as I am for the most part walking along busy roads, I try to avoid is at all possible walking in the dark. That is a challenge as the number of daylight hours is closing in during winter. So, I knew that when I arrived in Blonay, about 10 km up from Montreux and I was three hours into the daylight, I was going to be in trouble at the end of the day. So it was….

As I walked out of Semsales a freezing fog descended on a twisting road, blocking out what little light was remaining for the day. I reached for my torch, which was okay, but the battery was very weak—the last time I had replaced the batteries was in Croatia—I always carry a spare set in my rucksack, but that was back in Montreux.  Being the incurable optimist that I am, I imagined that the fog would lift once I emerged from the next dip in the road and there would be a petrol station which sold AAA batteries. No such luck. I walked to Vaulruz and just as I was emerging the torch went altogether and no amount of shaking was going to bring it back to life. Fortunately I had a few kilometres of footpath through the town before needing to go back onto the road in pitch black and fog. The fog was so thick that I could hardly see the oncoming car headlights until they were about ten metres away—I would then skip quickly onto the grass.

Strangely enough my greatest fear was not that I would get hit by a car, but that I would slip down the grass ditch at the side of the road and hit my fractured shoulder again. Fear keeps you on your toes and there is much that is much to be said for it.  I was also worried that I was missing signposts to Bulle in the fog, but fortunately had my Blackberry on GPRS so I could locate myself, well within 1.6km, which was as good enough.

I then came into a small town called Vuadens and saw a very welcome sight—a neon ‘Co-op’ sign!  And they had AAA batteries—it is always slightly irritating in these ‘austerity times’ when your torch only requires three batteries and you need to buy four, but I wasn’t complaining—too much. It was now 7:30pm and it was back onto the country roads again, but with my powerful torch which served both as a warning to oncoming traffic and a guide to avoid me slipping down a ditch or tripping on a rock.

I arrived into Bulle at around 8:30pm—almost 12 hours after I had left Montreux and imagined that in the fog I would be able to pick out the Hotel Ibis neon sign where I was booked to stay—no such luck. I asked directions and followed them as far as my basic French would allow me to do so with confidence, but was still wandering around the streets of Bulle at 9:00pm, very wet and very tired. I then had a bit of luck as I went into a bar to seek directions; there was a lady, Florence Cuennet, who spoke excellent English and engaged the patrons in a deep debate about how to reach Hotel Ibis. What transpired was that unfortunately I was on the wrong side of the motorway—if I had a car then I could be there in a few minutes through a tunnel, but on foot I would need to retrace my steps and walk for about another hour.

A few of the women clearly felt a maternal side coming out towards me as I stood there soaking wet, with an arm in a sling and they urged me to take a taxi through the tunnel. I explained the nature of my walk and why I needed to walk—they were impressed by the walk, but deeply unimpressed with my desire to go back out to walk another hour to travel a couple of kilometres. Before I knew it Danielle Roulin was taking matters into their own hands and dialling a taxi and pouring me a complimentary glass of wine (pic). I began to soften in my pious and puritanical approach to the rules of the walk and enjoyed a few minutes conversation before the taxi arrived and took me the short distance to the hotel; and as I did, I gave thanks for getting through another tricky day.