Spellbound by Haute Cuisine

Chamonix was actually just behind the next hill. So it should be a short stage. I had already spotted the best campsite there. Everything was clear so far. So I set off towards the hill with fresh energy. And who did I meet again on the side of the road? The UTMB runners, probably on the same goal as me. Fortunately, they didn't want to go to my hill, and it was quickly conquered on my own. Although the descent from it was a disaster. Located right next to the local bike park in Les Houches, it was probably a former park trail that had since become overgrown, hard to find, and equally difficult to ride - what a hassle.

Back in the valley, I continued together with the UTMB runners on a beautiful path through a Swiss pine forest until I arrived directly in Chamonix. For the UTMB runners, this was the triumphal finish through a cheering crowd. In contrast, I was largely ignored by the people and eagerly searched for the nearest patisserie. And I succeeded. A wonderful pastry paradise greeted me with open arms and a smile right in the pedestrian zone of Chamonix. After an extensive, very calorie-rich stopover, I immediately made my way to the campsite - and here came the big surprise. All places taken, even for a spartan small tent. And not just here. There were half a dozen campsites in the Chamonix Valley. I called them all. And they were all full. On a weekday. On a Wednesday. Well, all except one...

You can imagine that this one place wouldn't necessarily be the best. It was cheap, but quite far away and the washrooms and Wi-Fi were 300 meters downhill from my pitch. It was okay for one night, but I planned to stay here for several days, including a rainy day. But well, it can't always go as smoothly as in Val Veny. So I somehow settled there.

The best thing about Chamonix were not the trails - apart from the unexciting bike park in Les Houches, there was also a beautiful, challenging enduro trail with a wonderful view of Mont Blanc - but definitely the Haute Cuisine. The daily visit to the patisserie and three fantastic dinners with spicy spare ribs, delicate swordfish, smoky grilled prawns, and lots of crème brûlée amazed my taste buds every time. Rarely had they felt so comfortable before. Especially after too many evenings with reheated convenience food. Even if the starter alone was more expensive than the entire accommodation. But it was simply worth it.

I had one last scary moment when I happily cycled to the bike park in the morning and my bottom bracket suddenly blocked with a screeching scream. Oh no, is the darn bearing gone again? Like on my last tour? I knew about the logistical effort to get hold of this rare spare part... I feared the worst. Fortunately, there was a competent bike shop within pushing distance that would open in half an hour. After anxious minutes of impatient waiting, the mechanic inspected it with a knowledgeable look - it wasn't the bottom bracket at all. A screw from the chainring attachment had come loose and blocked the crank. I really could have seen that myself. Well, it took heavy equipment to free the screw. But luckily, it happened right next to the bike shop and not somewhere in the middle of nowhere, and all the components, including the screw, remained intact. So I could continue without worries.