Definitely time to get the bikes out, after two days of unforgivable slacking. This was already looking like another glorious day. To begin, a typical French petit-déjeuner of exquisite bread (how are they consistently SO much better at bread than other countries of the world?), cheese and jams with top-notch café. Then, to begin, just a pootle over the hill and back to warm the legs up, followed by a panini for lunch back at Vallouise. The two oddities we were not expecting were the girl leading two laden donkeys along the road, just around a blind hairpin, and the guy doing ski training on in-line skates in the middle of the road. Coming up!
The afternoon was a touch more demanding, our route taking us up and up to a mountainside village, Ailefroide, where hot chocolate and café au lait were taken at a rustic buvette for way less than 5 Euros. Bargain. Apparently, the weather-beaten proprietor remains open the whole year round, even when the entire rest of the region hibernates, and there are absolutely no visitors around.
On and up again to a climbers' (particularly Brit rock-climbers) eyrie, Le Pré de Madame Carle. By the time we arrived, very overheated from all the climbing, the sun's warmth had completely cleared; the total, immediate switch from sweaty hot to bone-chilling cold was disconcerting. The swift descent, you will not be surprised to learn, froze the fingers on the shifters, and made the drop a bit hairy.
On getting back down into Vallouise, it was felt that the bread stocks were looking a little sad, and a visit to the boulangerie would be necessary. Two loaves stuffed into the back pocket later, it was time to climb yet again, the not insubstantial slope back to the ranch atop the hill.
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