DAUPHINY AND SAVOY.
(Daily Telegraph's Correspondent.) The second day's journey on the "Route des Alpes" marks the transition front the wild beauty of the Valley of the Var and its gorges and the no teas varied but very different province of Dauphiny, which one enters soon after leaving Bareelonuette, at the Col de Vary. At the latter point one passes from the Basses to the Haute* Alpes. . Dauphiny is largely characterised bv the picturesque combination of white rock* and the Sombre verdure of its forests and by mountains of savage desolation and sublime grandeur. But here*, too, as in the adjoining province of Savoy, arc pastures whore the silvery tinkle ot sheep hells is heard in summer, to give place in winter to the devotees of the ski. the bobsleigh, and skating. In July these joys are far distant, but apart from Chamonix—oldest and most famous centre of climbing—Megeve, Mont Bevard, St. Pierre-de-Ghartreuse. and other Alpine resorts make a strong appeal to lovers of winter sport in the region served by the P.T/.M. Railway. From Bareekrnnettc the car sweeps through the rich valley of the Übaye. with its- river of the same name. Spacious: views open up as the steep ascent of the Col de Vans is made, with ;i fine panorama of the vast snowfields of l.cs Blanc—and the rest of the Pelvoux range in the distance. By way of Aiguilles—a charming, if solitary, summer resort—and the Gorges de Gllil, at the foot of which the blue waters of the river of that name swirl and eddy, ofte .reachfes the picturesque old fortress of Chateau Quepras, which, like so many others in this important strategical area. wae fortified by Vanban. After passing over the Col d'lzoard. B,oooft above sea. level, one arrives at the most weird spot on the whole Route des Alpes, the Ca.sse Deserte. reached after many a "hair-pin" turn of the narrow road. Three extraordinary rock formations are well named a broken desert —if one can imagine an almost perpendicular desert, studded with huge, fantastic-ally-shaped rock?, which have been left standing. like grim sentinels left by the snows of centuries, which have worn away the surrounding rock, leaving a wall of rubble. Jagged in outline, they stand, starkly, against the sky. high above all vegetation. Dantesque. It. is an eerie spot, and one is not sorry to leave it for the smiling country around Briancon, which, at an elevation of 4,400 ft. is the highest town in France. The next stage is notable for the first glimpse of the summit of Mont Blanc, achieved after travelling for miles under the domination of the famous peak of La Mcijc, encircled by lesser snow-clad brothers. The ascent of the Col dti Galibier—tho highest point reached by road throughout the tour—is made by way of one of the mountain tunnels which are a feature of the route. Thence, one emerges into daylight made still more radiant. In the thick carpet of narcissus and and anemones and a wealth of other wild flowers which in early summer probably grow in Dauphiny and Savoy more profusely than anywhere in Kurope—except, perhaps, Tyrol. Farther north, particularly in_Sayoy, the mountain sides are covered with "Alpine roses.'' or. more properly, wild rhododendron. From the top of the Col du Galibier. reached after a short scramble, a glorious view is obtained of Mont Viso. in Italy, Les. Forms, and many other notable peaks. Over tho Col du Lautaret, through La Grave, along the valley of La, Bomauche, with its waterfalls and gorges. one passes through Tjriage-les-Bains to Grenoble, the stately capital of Dauphiny. On the way the historic Renaissance Chateau de Vizille is speciallv notable, as it is claimed to be the cradle of the French Revolution, lor it was here that, in 1788, an assembly of notables laid down the principles of the new social order. The last spurs of the Chartreuse chain—a huge limestone triangle—reach almost to Grenoble, and the snow-clad heights of the Belledonne range form a magnificent background. Through wonderful pine forests such as have not been seen hitherto one gradually ascends the valley of the Isere aiid comes under the shadow — and under the spell—of the famous Monastery of La Grande Chartreuse. It is a- mournful pilgrimage that one. makes to this "historical building," as it has been coldly classified and preserved, since the expulsion of the monks in 1903. An informing and voluble guide shows one over the great edifice- the refectory, the cells, the spacious dining-room of the Prior, where people of all religions and all nations. Queen Victoria amongst them, were hospitably entertained in the old days. Now all is cold as the graves of the dead and gone priors and of tho founder of the order, St. Bruno, in Italy, and only the footsteps of tourists cello in the cloisters. The names of priors who ruled here away back in the Middle Ages .remain on the walls, but their portraits have long since vanished. Only the shell remains. It is nearly seventy years since Matthew Arnold wrote his fine poem of '•The Brotherhood Austere'' at" the Grande- Chartreuse, and many years, too, since Robert Louis Stevenson, driving his "secular donkey" before him. approached the still more austere brotherhood at the Trappist Monastery of Our Lady of the Snows with "unaffected terror." to be hospitablv received. What would they think'of it all? The monks' little gardens are untciided. It is an historic building. One leaves it with a pang, but not much regret, repeating, perhaps with more reason than the poet, Matthew Arnold's question, "What dost thou in this living tomb?" Quitting the Grande Chartreuse, with its Louis XIV. turrets ami tileslate roofs, sheltering beneath "limestone seal's with ragged pines." the traveller lunches at St. Pierre-de-Chsirtreu.se, perchance drinking a glass of the famous and veritable liqueur. now made in Spain, whither the monks carried their secret recipe. But the spell of St. Bruno and his whitecowled brethren remains, and one will do well to remain awhile in this rarefied air. wander amongst the pinewoods, and enjoy the fine views of the upper valley of the Isere and the Jura, mountains in the distance. The scenery is typically Alpine, and the district is worth at least, a few days' stay, il only to see the chamois, of which there arc said to be plenty on the craggy heights, though they prefer their solitude to the throb of a motor engine. 11 is a far cry from Matthew Arnold and I?. 1.. S. to Rousseau, hut, with the descent on Chambery, the ancient capital of the Duchy of Savoy, with its old chateau, one enters the country which, and in which, .lean Jacques loved and sang. Charinctles. at Chambery, so intimately associated with Rousseau and Madame de Warens. is in practically .the same condition as in the eighteenth century, and at Annecy. which Bone reaches later, the couple first met. ll'he road leads on to Aix-les-Rains. now reaching the height of its season. The gaiety of the famous water-place tempts one to forget that, apart from its other attractions, it boasts a lirsl■lass hydro-pathiu establishment. Thence one travels on to the (plaint, arended streets of Annecy, whence there is a fine view down the. lake to
tho mountains in the south. Past old houses with the broad eves and spacious wooden balconies typical of Savov, one approaches Combloux. where, from the terrace of the P.L.M. Hotel, can be obtained the finest panoramic view in France of the Mont Blanc and neighboring chains. Here one can sit and watch the sunset and the afterglow gradually spread in rosy pinkness over the snowy peaks, whilst the lights of St. Gervais twinkle in the valley beneath. The fitting climax of the tour, Chamonix, with its superb view of the giant of the Alps, will be visited by many as an old friend. By good J'ortune, perhaps on the Mer de Glace, you may come upon one or more of three most remarkable brothers -the. brothers Payot. now living in honored retirement. The total ages of these famous guides of an earlier generation number 238 years. Alphonse and Frederick, at any rate, are wonderfully vigorous, and aire only too delighted to talk over their numerous atscents of Mont Blanc and other peaks. After a drive through more placid country than has yet been visited, the tour ends at Evian. where, overlooking the. waters of the Lake of Geneva, tho town lies on the slopes of a hill clad with chestnut groves. Whether one stays awhile at this long-famous resort or returns forthwith to England, one carries back a wealth of unforgettable memories of the French Alpine country and its beauty, seen in a way that would have' been impossible but a feuyears ago.
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Dunstan Times, Issue 3135, 18 September 1922, Page 8
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1,460DAUPHINY AND SAVOY. Dunstan Times, Issue 3135, 18 September 1922, Page 8
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