Duingt

We made another unfortunate misjudgement today. Still aching from yesterday’s hike, we decided to hire bikes for a nice gentle potter along the cycle path that used to be the Annecy to Albertville railway line. We poddled along quite happily for a couple of hours southwards in the direction of the latter, through the rather cool tunnel at Duingt and into the mountains, even spying the snowy top of Mont Blanc at points, until we got tired and headed back. Unfortunately, we’d not really taken account of the fact that we’d then have to cycle the same distance back, already tired, under the beating sun of the afternoon. We had to stop twice for cold oranginas, whatever initial pace we had dwindling steadily, before we finally made it to Duingt’s municipal (free) beach (actually just a small scrubby field by the lake) for our picnic lunch. The girls went straight in for a reviving swim but I was frankly too jiggered to make the effort. We got back just as my in-laws, the Lisles, were arriving (Beck’s brother’s family were meant to travel down with us but were unfortunately unavoidably delayed In setting off), so we sat fairly uselessly about and watched them pitch camp efficiently next to our own rather more ramshackle homestead before we all went for a pleasant evening meal together at the rather nice restaurant on the site. They did some Savoyard specialities, like raclette and tartifette, and really good burgers, ‘Savoyard-ed’-up with reblochon cheese, ham and onions.