Adieu to Annecy

Last Annecy-Francey post, I promise!  There are just too many beautiful photos to share.  Buckets of sorz.

Though the rainclouds from earlier that morning had scuttled away by lunch, the afternoon weather was apparently no good for hang gliding, and the World Championship task for the day had to be canceled.  Luckily, “no lift” has no bearing on walking around eating French gelato, so the day was not ruined.

I abandoned my grassy lakeside post and went right back to where I’d come from to meet Jonny and his team of glider pilots, including a couple other OBX faces I hadn’t seen in ages!


Their hang gliding headquarters was in Doussard, on the south end of the lake, and this was the first time they’d come up to Annecy proper, so we spent the afternoon wandering around the vieille ville, dipping in and out of shops and picking out dream houses along the canals.



It was much a repeat of my first afternoon, but with scenery like this I wouldn’t dream of complaining!




As the restaurants began to prepare for the dinner crowd, we saw people start to emerge from their flats in the candy-colored buildings, hop on their bicycles, and pedal off for their evening shifts.



Can’t you imagine sipping your morning coffee while sitting on one of these stoops, or perching on a balcony overlooking the canal?  I can.  I totally can.



Behind a cluster of restaurants back in the corner of the old town, there’s a little winding road that leads you up a steep hill to the Musée-Chateau (literally “museum-castle”) and panoramic views of the French Alps.




As the sun started to dip lower in the sky, the little village turned golden.




Despite as much wandering around as I’d done over the past couple of days, I was constantly stumbling upon bridges, alleys, and pathways I hadn’t yet seen.




Finally I bade Jonny and the others au revoir and they returned to Doussard.  I was tres fatiguée, but in my perpetual endeavour to overcome my own lameness, made myself stay out at least until it got dark.

I had a delicious dinner with a view of Le Thiou (thanks Mum for imparting the worldly wisdom that aperitifs are not supposed to be taken like shots TWO HOURS TOO LATE), then slowly meandered back to my hotel, watching the lights turn on over the canals and the evening’s entertainment begin to take shape.




My evening’s entertainment looked more like this:


I found Friends in French!  Disappointingly, they did not find a French voice actress who could replicate Janice’s laugh.  She sounded sort of normal.  It was weird.

The next morning was to be my last chance at seeing some world-class hang gliding… and we woke up to buckets of rain.  We had one last crepe to console ourselves before I was off to the train station.


Even though I didn’t get to see any of the hang gliding I went for, the weekend in Annecy was so worth it.  It had been far too long since I’d gone traveling by myself, it was lovely to be in France and get to speak the language again, and seeing OBX friends was absolutely priceless.

The last gift of my mini-holiday was unexpectedly chugging past this vision (later identified as Lac du Bourget) on my way back from Aix-les-Bains to Geneva:


Until next time, France!


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