highs and lows
There can be little doubt that in a cheese mad country this locality was that little bit further down the road toward cheese insanity, and if evidence was needed this little sign I came across should be sufficient, it seemed to be pointing nowhere, as if underneath this matrix of sense-datum these was simply the presence, for better or for worse, for good or ill, without rhyme or reason, the unceasing vibration of cheese.
I took a wonderful little descent back down into the valley (there are a few pictures I took but I'm not going to share them), and like K should have realised in Kafka's book, the Castle which was looming above was not worth bothering with. I think this was the first sign to me that all things were not to be perfect this day.
I had been thinking about those people who had been engaged in building the castle, lugging all them stones up the hill, and I speculated that it wouldn't have been a particularly jolly enterprise.
I consulted the map and did a kind of u-turn and took a path back up the hill. I came across a huge bank of fine sandy soil, which, by its own accord seemed in a constant state of.... .... well I can't find the word, but the little stones were falling down off the side - it was collapsing slowly. This is one phenomena in the whole trip I can truly say I didn't understand, moreso when I got to the top of the bank and found a road there, quite a major road, the D617 to be precise.
Anyway I was pressing on in fine spirits, and I haven't mentioned yet that all the time I had been getting closer to the massif so I could see the snowy peaks all the more clearly. I lost my way a little bit, but found myself on the map a bit further than I thought, but was quite happy to be walking in the sunshine across more verdant pasture.
It was time to start circling back, so I headed southward, I had been climbing for a good old while so maybe I expected to find a good view eventually, I have to say the view from above La Dent du Mar was amazing.
To the left is one of the pictures i took, not from the very top, but I was very happy to be up there and aware of so much going on. I tried to take a picture of myself in one of C. D. Freidrich's famous poses - the solitary walker overlooking a magnificent landscape beneath him - and this i did but afterwards i wasn't too satisfied with the photo, so i'm not posting it here, but needless to say i was filled with a deep romantic spirit as i rambled my way along the crest of this peak.
From these heights i made a particularly steep descent, one which demanded one's attention at every step, and before too long i found myself at the shores of Lac Chambon, and this physical descent seem to match one in my spirits.
You can find out what happened if you click here.