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August 30, 2004, Sasha Days 39-46 After Peillsey we left the Liore valley for the "Massif Central" and headed east. We called it quits in the town of Limoge. I couldn't quite figure out this town. It was very populated but you couldn't quite tell what made it tick. Very working class, we found a movie theater showing a Irish movie called "Just a Kiss" which was refreshing. It rained constantly in this town, and when we asked a shopkeper about the weather, she said it was normal and rained almost every day. Bizarre. Heading even further east took us on a long journey to Lyon, France's 2nd largest city and culinary capital. Along the way we stopped at a cheese maker's farm after seeing some signs on the road. It was a chilly day and we were greeted by Richard and his dog. He seemed very busy, but was happy to show us his cheese making farm house and sample the different Chevre cheeses he made. They were very ugly and didn't smell all that great (Leslie would disagree), but they tasted heavenly and we drove away with a big chunk. Did you know that the 'rind' on the outside of a cheese wheel is mold? And we eat it? Doesn't that seem odd? And why does it taste so good? No wonder the Chineese think we're strange. The Internet booking site we used put us up in a questionable hotel in the colorful part of Lyon. Not ideal, but it was very convenient. Launddromat, Internet cafe and shops all on our block. Laundry goes much faster when you're not washing your favorite book. That night we splurged on a fancy French dinner at a highly recommended Lyonaise restaurant. I have no idea what I ate, they called it 'black pork' something. I'm afraid it was made with blood, but it was absolutely blissful. 'To the Alps' we yelled as we crossed over the Rhone, our trusty GPS leading the way. Soon enough valleys turned to hills, hills turned to mountains and everything got much prettier. One town we passed through had a very crooked and steep main street that zig zagged up a hill. We noticed all kinds of knife shops along the jagged road so out of curiosity we stopped at one. It was filled with all kinds of knives for hunting, fishing, the kitchen, picnics with wine, and they were all very fancy. Naturally it was the region where French knives are made, and we walked out with a very large kitchen knife. We spent the night in a town called 'Belley' which was in a very beautiful valley. We found another 'retro' hotel, meaning one that was built in the 40s, updated in the 60's and not touched since. They always seem to be run by nice old women. This particular nice old woman was very accomodating and allowed us to park Hamish in the garage below. That night we drank Pastis on the village square, well, more of a round-a-bout. But it was nice and we enjoyed a pizza from a very friendly Armenian man. An early start had us heading up deep into the Alps. A stop for Lunch in Annecy left us wondering where all these people were walking to, so we folled one to a mideval quarter more beautful than any I've ever seen. Tiny cobblestone streets flanked by beautiful streams of flowing water and a gigantic antique open air market my mother would really appreciate. Flowers seemed to cover the entire city. So far it seemed like the Alps, although very beautiful, were far too developed. Endless houses, condos, resorts, big towns all along our route. Seeking something more rural, we spotted a small village way up on a mountain side with a small road heading up. So we took a look and found a idealic little village that time forgot: Peillsey. The French and Italian vacation period ended the week before, so the town was starting to shut down. Luckily the one hotel in town was still open for a few more days. It was an adorable hotel with a little restaurant in the basement. We were the only guests so it was a little creepy, like the Shining, but the owners were so friendly we felt like relatives more than guests. They even moved around some tables to make room for Hamish on their deck. The next day included some really spectacular riding through the Alps. We rode from one ski resort to the next, letting the GPS do the dirty work so we could just enjoy the scenery knowing we wouldn't get lost. This was finally the Alps I imagined. Love, Sasha and Leslie