The bikes' late arrival and various mechanical problems and directional difficulties meant we were heading into Geneva Town centre round about 2.30. The totally forgettable 'burbs were, thankfully, home to a motorcycle repair shop and some burly bloke lent me a pair of pliers to gingerly bend the tooth on the chain ring back a bit to allow me to use some other less humiliating gears. The bike, however, was still in possession of the irritating rubbing noise.
We flew down this strasse and that rue but managed to miss the lake - the fountain being visible from a bridge a mile away that crossed the Rhone. We passed The Fan Zone of Euro 2008 and then headed into the southern 'burbs towards France.
Can we have our ball back, please?
The annoying suburbs didn't look much like on the map but we took a while getting to the border at St. Julien. The D992 took us onto Vers and Frangy and eventually Seyssel. This was all very pleasant cycling with no hills to mention until we passed Frangy and a short cut tempted us with its handful of hairpins for a taster of stuff to come. The Rhone joined us for the last few miles into Seyssel and its municipal campsite perched on the huge river's banks.
Seyssel and the Rhone
Top spot. We got there at 7.15 nearly five hours after leaving the airport 35 miles away - but hell, we were still doing it and since it was the first day, we'd faffed about and dawdled, as you do.Always have that thirst slaking first beer of the day after you've put your tent up.
Slugs might look harmless but get one in your tent and, boy, what a mess.
Said campsite is ideally placed for the shopper's paradise that is Champion. Netto and Lidl are like Tesco's, Champion is Waitrose. Nipped over there for breakfast then found the bike shop and an even burlier bloke who bent my tooth back with one of those tooth pliers things and then re-threaded the thread on the forks for the mudguard screw. Fantastico. I bought a pair of bungees and left.
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