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Milford Sound, a New Zealand treasure

Postcard perfect: Mitre Peak reflected in Milford Sound

My number one must-see in New Zealand was Milford Sound. This time our pandemic-induced rescheduling worked to our advantage. When I’d first planned this trip in March 2020, the Milford Sound Road (a world-famous drive I definitely wanted to make) was severely damaged and closed. We could still fly in, maybe, but that wasn’t what I envisioned and gave us little wiggle room if the weather in this rainiest of rainy places didn’t cooperate. Now, in October 2022, the road was open and we had a two-day window to hopefully see the Sound on a reasonably clear day.

The day started out sunny and promising in Queenstown, but as we drove two hours south and then west past flocks of sheep and large herds of domestic stags towards Te Anau, the weather turned increasingly gray and ominous. By the time we stopped for lunch and provisions at Te Anau, a light rain had begun. The weather only got worse as we drove another 40 miles/50 minutes to the cabin I’d chosen for a two-night stay at Eglinton Valley Camp at Knobs Flat. The camp is located well within Fiordland National Park, the home of Milford Sound. I thought our modest one-room cabin was in the perfect location, about half-way between the town of Te Anau (where lots of visitors to the Sound stay) and Milford Sound (where there is an expensive lodge and a campground, but where it’s possible to get stuck if the Milford Sound road is closed to not-that-infrequent mudslides, ice, and related road damage. [Eglinton Valley Camp also offers RV spots for those traveling that way.]

The cabin boasted a pretty hike to a nearby waterfall and other longer hikes around Lake Gunn, but with the rain now coming down hard, we found ourselves cozy and snug but with not a lot to do for the rest of the day. Oh well, worse things could happen. Our host advised us that it might be worth driving the 34 miles to Milford Sound anyway just to see what the weather was like there. Besides, Milford Sound is supposed to be extra special in the rain as a myriad of waterfalls along its walls come to life. We read and heard that pitch quite a few times. When blue sky finally peeked out, we decided to give it a try.

Milford Sound Road as we begin the ascent from Knobs Flat

I was a little worried about the twists and turns on a wet mountain road, but the Milford Sound Road was in good shape and David is a champ at driving. [Check for conditions on the Milford Sound Road here.] It actually snowed on us at higher elevations and the misty waterfalls streaming off the sheer walls around us were beautiful. Still, the low clouds and rain/snow made for poor visibility and a scenic overlook supposedly offering a view of Mount Crosscut nestled between Mount Christina and Mount Lyttle did no such thing. [See photo at end of this post.] Avalanche warnings made the approach to the Homer Tunnel feel a little ominous and the steep, wet road awaiting us on the other side was made even more exciting by hairpin turns. As we descended into the valley, long thin waterfalls poured off the rocky walls around us.

The Homer Tunnel and beyond

We arrived safe and sound at Milford Sound to more rain and clouds. I didn’t even bother to get out and snap photos at the Sound. The low clouds and rain made it impossible to see far and the surrounding walls and mountains were totally hidden behind the gray. I did go into the tourist office, though, while David waited in the car as there’s only pay parking and we didn’t plan a long stay. I walked into an empty office with a sign saying they were short-handed. This was to be a common occurrence everywhere we went in New Zealand. The Covid-19 pandemic and New Zealand’s related strict rules on immigration and guest workers had left many businesses short-staffed and begging for workers. After wandering a bit, I ran into a woman who seemed to be a janitor in the cafeteria area and asked her if anyone was working the front desk. She asked me to wait and was soon back with a young man who offered to sell me tickets for a boat tour of the Sound leaving soon. When I mentioned the rain, he told me it wasn’t really raining. Gesturing with my dripping umbrella, I disagreed. Then, he gave me the line about how some people say Milford Sound is better in the rain because of the waterfalls. Having seen lots of these thin, long streams on our way in, I was more interested in actually being able to see the Sound. When I pointed out that the weather forecast looked good for the next morning and we could come back early, he finally agreed that, yes, if I wanted to see the sides of the Sound and the peaks surrounding it, the next day would be better. In fact, it was slated to be a relatively rare clear morning. And, oh yeah, there would still be lots of waterfalls given all the rain that had fallen today. We’d hoped to be off early on the next leg of our journey the following day, but the great part about staying so close at Eglinton Valley Camp was that we had a two-day window to try for clear weather. Leaving a bit later than originally planned was no big deal. It was an easy decision, and I bought tickets for a boat tour with Mitre Peak Cruises (a smaller boat company recommended by our host at Eglinton Valley Camp) at 8:50am the next morning.

The drive back down towards Knobs Flat remained gray and drizzly until we were nearly back at our cabin. The sun came out then and we were able to hike to the nearby waterfall, an easy ramble across a small creek and through bright green woods. With time on our hands afterwards, we drove about ten minutes to Lake Gunn Nature Walk (still within Fiordland National Park) and enjoyed another easy walk along well-marked trails to the lake where rain arrived again and sent us back to our cabin for the evening.

I was beyond excited the next morning as we packed up and headed back to Milford Sound. The weather looked good, but who knew what it would be like by the time we got to the Sound. I scoured the scattered clouds, worried that the rain would return. There was no need. The weather continued to clear as we drove toward the Sound. We arrived bright and early to glorious, blue-bird skies. Perfection!

Check-in was easy and we milled around with other excited passengers before being called to board. The boat was comfortable with less than twenty passengers aboard and plenty of comfortable seating inside and room on both the bow and stern viewing decks. Hot drinks were available to take the chill off when we came in from the crisp and windy decks. We were the first boat out although others were docked and waiting, but it wasn’t particularly crowded as it was shoulder season on a Thursday.

What can I say? The boat ride through Milford Sound to the Tasman Sea was all I’d hoped for. Brilliant blue sky and water ringed by rocky cliffs and snow-covered peaks, thin temporary waterfalls spilled off the sheer walls (some we were told would dry up before the day was out) between the more substantial permanent waterfalls.

Fiordland crested penguin

We spotted a fur seal and a couple of Fiordland crested penguins, we laughed as spray from Stirling Falls drenched the stern deck of our boat. When we finally docked after as perfect of a cruise as I could have hoped for, we were treated to final postcard views of Mitre Peak reflected in Milford Sound from the parking lot. [See lead photo.] Happy sigh.

Kea bird at the Mount Crosscut scenic overlook on the Milford Sound Road

The ride back down Milford Sound Road was a treat, too. We stopped off at that scenic overlook for an entirely different view from the day before. There was Mount Crosscut, just as promised! And the sign warning us not to feed the Kea birds turned out to have a point: A handsome specimen with emerald green wing feathers sat nearby, clearly hoping we didn’t read signs.

What a difference a day makes!
[Mount Crosscut in the distance, viewed (on a clear day)
between Mount Christina and Mount Lyttle]

We felt like we’d actually been lucky to see Milford Sound and the Milford Sound Road in both rain and sun, so different, but both beautiful. In high spirits, we drove on to our next destination: Wanaka and an Albert Town AirBnB.

Queenstown and we begin our time on New Zealand’s South Island

Lake Wakatipu from the Harbor View Walk, Queenstown

Our flight on New Zealand air from Auckland to Queenstown went off without a hitch and offered us some great views of the two islands en route. We picked up the rent car that would be our transportation for the next weeks (sadly, now substantially more expensive than a similar car had been pre-pandemic) and headed to our hotel. The route we followed on the South Island was as follows:

Our roadtrip through New Zealand’s South Island. At Picton, we took the ferry and continued
back to Auckland via Wellington and Rotorua, a total trip of more than 2000 miles.

We took our rent car on the ferry from to Wellington and continued driving across the North Island and back to Auckland from where we’d fly back to the States. We were really happy with our itinerary and I’ll cover the entire trip including fjords, hot spring spas, wineries, geysers, Maori settlements, a glowworm cave and more in coming posts.

Queenstown sits in a gorgeous location on Lake Wakatipu. [See top photo and below.] The city promotes itself as an adventure sports destination with bungee jumping, hang gliding, a wheeled “slalom” course and more promoted everywhere. We were in New Zealand for the natural beauty and culture, however, so I’d only booked us a night in town, eager to get on to Fiordland National Park and beyond. I used 15,000 Wyndham points to book us at the uninspiring but perfectly nice and conveniently located Ramada by Wyndham Queenstown Central. (Wyndham is a chain I seldom use, but I had scored the points during a promotion so was happy to be able to use them.)

With limited time, we dropped off our luggage and headed back out to explore the lakeside park and Queenstown center. A long walk along the lake let us admire the lake, mountains, and the TSS Earnslaw, a 1912 Edwardian twin screw steamer that regularly plies the lake. We enjoyed a beer and fries break at the Pub on Wharf in the quaint old harborfront, sitting outside on a crisp, sunny day.

T he TSS Earnslaw coming into the Queenstown wharf

I’d booked dinner at The Bunker restaurant (They’ve got a cool-looking upstairs bar, too.) and we looked forward to a true New Zealand meal in a cozy atmosphere. We enjoyed a meal of a yellowfin tuna tartare with coconut “caviar” starter and a venison main, but the cozy atmosphere, complete with wood-burning fireplace, was a little diminished by the gathering smoke in the room. Oh well, we left satisfied and ready for an early start the next morning. Up next: Eglinton Valley Camp and Milford Sound!

Auckland

Arriving by ship is a great introduction to Auckland. We sailed through outlying islands to dock early in the morning at the cruise ship terminal, in walking distance of downtown. Since we were disembarking and had luggage, we hailed a cab for the short ride to our hotel. With lots of free night certificates to use on this three-week trip, I chose the Four Points by Sheraton for this initial two-night stay. (We’d be back in Auckland for another two nights at the end of our stay in New Zealand.) The hotel is clean, modern and convenient. Happily, our room was ready early so we settled in quickly and had the full day ahead of us.

Top on my list was Waiheke Island, a roughly 40-minute ferry ride from the Auckland waterfront. The weather was gorgeous, but predicted to get more cloudy in coming days, so we decided to take advantage of the opportunity. I discovered that ferry tickets are available online at a small discount and bought them on my phone to avoid a line we found once we arrived at the dock. [Ferry tickets from Fullers360 were NA$40 + NZ$6 tax/per adult, round trip, for a total of NZ$92 for the two of us.] We then joined a much longer line waiting for the ferry. Waikheke is clearly popular with the locals on a pretty weekend day. (We were a little surprised at the fair number of people dressed up for the occasion. Young women in midi-skirts and dresses may have been a bit chilly on the ride over, but they were ready for stylish lunches at the island’s wineries.) Although the line looked daunting, the ferries are large and we easily made it on board and claimed seats on the upper, open-air deck. The ferry ride itself is an experience. We stopped only once at Devonport, before continuing on past the islands of Rangitoto, Motutapu and Motuihe en route to Waiheke.

We bought an AT HOP card at the small ferry terminal on Waiheke and 4 single-journey bus rides, figuring we’d ride to the wineries and also stop in the beach town of Oneroa. Oddly, it’s necessary to buy the journeys in advance and add them to the AT HOP card (which you also have to pay a one-time fee for). You can’t just buy a ticket on the bus if you run out of pre-purchased tickets. We ended up not stopping in town, so were stuck with a couple of extra bus ride passes we never used, even though they were good in Auckland as well. Not a big deal, but an awkward and annoying system for tourists.

With lunch time approaching, we opted to go straight to the wineries, asking the bus driver to tell us when to get off. With this less-than-well-thought-out plan, we found ourselves at Stonyridge Vineyard at lunchtime. Restaurant tables were all booked on this sunny Sunday, but we were happy to take seats on the outside deck overlooking green hills and make a lunch of wine and a lovely cheeseboard. Unlike the world-renowned Marlborough wine region on the South Island, Waiheke is not sauvignon blanc country. We opted for a three wine tasting package consisting of a white and two reds: a chardonnay (Luna Dorada, 2020), an unusual blend of syrah, grenache, mouvedre and viognier (Pilgrim 2020); and, a “Bordeaux” blend (Larose, 2019). All were very good and this was looking to be a promising three weeks of discovering New Zealand wines.

From top: Stonyridge Vineyard deck, Te Motu, and Tantalus Estate

After lunch, we took a footpath across a field to neighboring Te Motu Vineyards where we tried a four-wine tasting flight at a picnic table in their casual outdoor space. Feeling up to the challenge of one more winery, we walked back toward the main road. Our path took us along unpaved roads, lined by trees or bordered by spring flowers, through vineyards (past a black helicopter waiting to whisk away wine-tasters who’d thrown a bit more cash at their outing than we had) to Tantalus Estate. We settled at a table on the patio behind their chic glass-walled restaurant and tasting room overlooking their vineyards.

The Tantalus driveway led us back to the main road where we soon caught a bus back to the ferry terminal (a less than 30-minute ride). We’d met a small group we recognized from the ship who told us they’d also tried to use the bus, but had been stranded in the town of Oneroa when the bus was either full or just didn’t stop for them. They’d resorted to hiring a cab for the rest of the day. With that story in mind (and not seeing much of interest to us in Oneroa anyway since we’d eaten and drunk our fill and weren’t interested in shopping or a chilly beach), we opted not to risk a stop there.

You’d think we’d have had enough wine for the day, but back at the Auckland waterfront, we opted for dinner at Botswana Butchery and were pretty easily sold on a bottle of wine with dinner. We knew we couldn’t drink a whole bottle, but figured it would be fine to take a half-bottle back to our hotel. Wrong. It turns out that corking a bottle for taking home after a meal is illegal in New Zealand. Our waiter assured us, though, that he’d keep it for us. That wasn’t really going to help since we only had one more night in Auckland and didn’t plan on returning to Botswana Butchery. Oh well, it was a good meal (fabulous venison Wellington was a highlight and house-baked bread with smoked butter was addictive) and lesson learned about the wine. After our wine-filled day, we didn’t really need any more anyway.

Albert Park (top left), Auckland Domain, and Parnell Road

We spent our second day in Auckland exploring. We walked through Albert Park to the Auckland Domain, a huge green area that includes a lawn bowling club, beautiful gardens, meandering paths, and the Auckland Memorial War Museum. We took a small path through lush woods to pop out near the Parnell train station. Small footpaths and roads threading between backyards led us to Parnell Road, the main street of Auckland’s oldest (and one of its most expensive) suburbs. We window-shopped and read menus in the many restaurants housed in buildings that ranged from one-to-two story painted clapboard to vintage facades of masonry to four- and five-story modern rectangles. Finally opting for Lala Café, we enjoyed a late lunch before continuing our ramble back towards downtown. With our pretty day now threatening rain, we took refuge for a while before heading back out to admire Auckland’s charming vintage buildings and the contrast they presented to the sleek high-rises and iconic tower. Tired, we opted for dinner in the hotel and called it an early night, excited about our flight to the south island the following morning.

Another transpacific cruise, this time to New Zealand

Majestic Princess in Papeete, Tahiti, en route to Auckland, New Zealand

I’m behind on blogging as we settle into our year back in Paris. Still, I do want to write about our time in New Zealand (which included 2000 miles of driving!) before too much time slips by. So, first here’s a quick recap of the Princess repositioning cruise that got us there:

The Covid-19 pandemic canceled a three-week trip to New Zealand we’d planned to start in March 2020, within days of New Zealand shutting down. With the pandemic mostly behind us and New Zealand again opening, we were finally making the trip.

We’d originally planned to fly to New Zealand and return via repositioning cruise during their fall (our spring). This time, we were going in our fall (New Zealand’s spring) so the order was reversed: We sailed from Los Angeles to New Zealand via Hawaii and Tahiti and flew home. As always, one-way cruising has the benefit of eliminating jetlag, and the price on repositioning cruises is almost always a great deal. Usually, there’s also the bonus of unusual out-of-the way stops along the way. Our original cruise would have stopped in the Kingdom of Samoa, Tonga, Bora Bora and Maui in addition to Hawaii and Tahiti, a much more appealing itinerary. This cruise (leaving from Los Angeles) had originally offered only the addition of American Samoa, but that island was closed due to Covid concerns. Likewise, Tonga suffered a devastating volcanic eruption in January 2022 and looks unlikely to recover any time in the foreseeable future. So, we were left with overnight stops in Honolulu, Hawaii; Papeete, Tahiti; and, a new one-day stop in Tauranga, New Zealand. I wasn’t thrilled with this itinerary, but it was still a pleasant-sounding way to get from the U.S. to New Zealand.

The three-week cruise turned out to be a mixed bag. Engine trouble had us staying longer in Honolulu than expected and an extra night in Papeete. There was also a Covid outbreak onboard, but that didn’t effect us too much. We’ve been to both Hawaii and Papeete, so weren’t really interested in too much touring. We went to Iolani Palace in Honolulu, an easy walk from where our ship docked at the Pier 2 Cruise Terminal. I hadn’t been in years and enjoyed revisiting the only royal palace on U.S. soil. After that, we just caught a Lyft to Waikiki Beach and a favorite beachfront spot for maitais, The Edge of Waikiki at the Sheraton. Not a bad way to spend a day!

I’d planned to rent a car in Papeete and do the ring road around Tahiti, something we’d not done before. Unfortunately, due to the delay in Honolulu, the ship arrived so late in the day that I decided to cancel the car and spend our full day at a resort where I’d purchased day passes. Te Moana resort turned out to be a great choice and we had a lovely, leisurely day there lounging around the pool, enjoying a top notch lunch, and kayaking along the coast. The resort boasts a spectacular view of nearby Bora Bora which only gets more dramatic at sunset. [Note: It’s an easy ferry ride from Papeete to Bora Bora which is more naturally beautiful than Tahiti. If you’ve never been or are willing to hire a tour or do a little planning (and spend a bit more) to rent a car, it’s well worth the trip. We’d been to Bora Bora not too long ago, though, and decided to relax and stay on Tahiti this time.] I highly recommend a day pass at Te Moana for those looking for a way to spend a day in Tahiti.

View from our lounge chairs of the Te Moana infinity pool and beyond

Te Moana offers 3 types of “relaxation”/day passes. We chose the 7000 CFP/person package (10am-6pm) which included pool/motu access, lunch plus coffee or ice cream, and two hours of kayak or paddle board. (The “motu” is a manmade “island” with a small snorkeling area, not an actual small private island as you might find in Bora Bora.) Other options ran up to 14,000 CFP/person and included a scuba dive or massage sessions. Other day pass options were available at the Hilton for a higher price and less positive reviews. The Intercontinental apparently now has day passes, but didn’t at the time.

View of Bora Bora at sunset from Te Moana resort

We arrived in the port of Tauranga to local fanfare and waiting media. It turned out our ship was the first to dock in New Zealand since the pandemic. The cruise port is actually at Mount Maunganui, a pretty resort town, across the bay from the city of Tauranga. We had a great view of the small mountain for which the town is named from the ship and couldn’t wait to get ashore and do a little hiking there. We originally thought we’d need to take a ferry to Tauranga, but a woman who was part of the waiting information brigade on the dock told us not to bother. The town and mountain of Mount Maunganui were the places to see. We took her advice and had a great day.

After a quick walk into town to an ATM machine, we strolled along a waterfront promenade to a trailhead at the base of Mount Maunganui. The small mountain is well covered with paths and popular with locals. A hike to the summit rewarded us with sweeping views. The mountain sits at the tip of land that shelters the inland bays and harbors from the Bay of Plenty. We headed back down the opposite side of the mountain to wide Maunganui Beach (which makes lists of most beautiful beaches in the world) to watch surfers before walking on to Maunganui Road, the main street of the town of Mount Maunganui. The town bustled with cruise ship visitors and shop owners seemed thrilled to be busy again. We had our first encounter with “possum merino,” a unique New Zealand knit made from Australian possum fur, sometimes combined with sheep wool and/or silk. The Australian possum is an invasive pest according to some, and a treasure according to the many vendors of possum products we met during our time in New Zealand. The wool is soft and very warm. I bought a gorgeous sweater in Mount Tauranga and David bought a cap. It was still cold in this antipodean “spring!” Stops for lunch and local beer and iconic sauvignon blanc wine boded well for the rest of our trip. This first, unexpected stop in New Zealand was a great beginning and had us looking forward to leaving the ship the next day in Auckland where we’d kick off our three-week explore of the country’s two islands.

Corsica, at last

Corsica is a French island in the Mediterranean southeast of Nice and just north of Sardinia. It’s the birthplace of Napoleon I and a place of rugged beauty with a culture all its own. I wanted to visit Corsica for decades, but despite living in Paris on-and-off for years, I never made it. The time had finally arrived!

After finishing a house-and cat-sitting gig in little Thoiry, France, we flew EasyJet from Geneva to Ajaccio, Corsica, an 1h10m non-stop flight. We picked up a rent car at the Ajaccio airport and drove two and a half hours through rocky mountains to Bonifacio at the southern tip of the island, stopping a long the way to admire views and snap photos. We had nine nights in Corsica and I’d agonized over where exactly to spend our time. With all the winding roads, driving times in Corsica can be long and I didn’t want to fall into the trap of rushing around trying to see everything and being rushed everywhere. I settled on Bonifacio as one of two places to stay because it was just so dramatically beautiful. And given how many dramatically beautiful places there are in Corsica, that’s saying a lot. Wow, was I happy with my choice of Bonifacio!

Medieval Bonifacio sits atop dramatic cliffs overlooking the sea on two sides and a pretty little harbor on another. The hotel I’d chosen, Hotel Santateresa is at the highest point in the old town, at the very tip of the peninsula on which the town sits. The only thing between the hotel and the point of the peninsula is an old cemetery perched high above the Grotte de Saint-Antoine (cave of St. Antoine, also known as “Napoleon’s Hat” for its shape).The cemetery and a large parking area by it are popular with tourists as is the whole town. Happily, the Hotel Santateresa has plenty of guest-only parking, a welcome privilege. We enjoyed the hotel with its pretty views, large room, and easy walk into town. It was just far enough away from the bustle of the old town to be quiet at night, but close enough to walk in and out during the day as we liked. It is a bit of a steep hike down to the harbor, but that’s just a fact of the town layout; you’re going to be walking up and down steps whether you stay up in the old town or down by the harbor. I’d gladly stay at Hotel Santateresa again.

I’ve visited a lot of medieval towns and, at this stage, it takes a lot to really blow me away, but Bonifacio (“The City of Cliffs”) did. It’s just so achingly picturesque and authentic-feeling despite the obvious touristy overlay. The steep, narrow cobbled streets and steps beg to be explored. Terraces clinging to the cliffside give sweeping views of the sea.

Tiny shops and restaurants sometimes reveal a back window opening onto a breathtaking vista. Multiple times, we crossed paths with religious processions carrying a large crucifix (and once a large statue of a saint) and chanting. Participants wore modern clothing and shoes under their robes, but the primary purpose was religion and local culture, not a show for the tourists. Bonifacio has five churches and five religious brotherhoods, the earliest of which date back to the 13th century and trace their origins to Genoa. Throughout the year these brotherhoods make processions through Bonifacio carrying the crucifix and their patron saints.

A friend with family roots in Corsica had recommended we take a boat tour from Bonifacio, saying I’d love the different perspective on the town from the water. There are several large boats that leave multiple times a day from the harbor. I talked to a couple, but the idea just didn’t appeal. It was hot and lots of people (50-90 passengers) on a big boat just sounded hotter and I had a feeling we’d feel trapped. I pondered a private tour, but it was June and I hadn’t booked anything in advance and time was limited, so I was afraid we were out of luck. A stop at the Information building at the end of the harbor changed that. I explained my concerns to the woman there, and she suggested a small tour company with an ad in an information booklet. A phone call later followed by an online payment of €150 for both of us and we were booked for a 3-hour sunset cruise with Corse Nautic Escape.

What an awesome sunset cruise with Corse Nautic Escape!

The boat turned out to be a sleek 42′ power boat that could accommodate twelve people. Instead, it was David and me, one other couple, and the captain. Perfect! The other couple and the captain were French, so I did translation duty for David, but that was no issue. The boat slipped along cliffs and into a sheltered cove of clear water to allow time for a swim and to set out generous charcuterie and cheese plates accompanied by local wine. [Corsican cuisine relies heavily on cured meats (mostly pork), cheese, chestnut products, and wine.] The last portion of the cruise took us a distance from shore to view Bonafacio in the lowering sun, then right up to the cliffs and into the Grotte de Saint-Antoine. We cruised past the steep cliffs rising up to the town opposite the harbor where the 189 steps of the Escalier du Roy d’Aragon (built in 1420) snaked down to the water. Finally, we circled the U Diu Grosso (“Grain of Sand”) boulder for that spectacular sunset view of Bonafacio atop the cliffs before heading back around the peninsula point and into the harbor as darkness fell. It was the perfect way to end the day and our time in Bonifacio.

Cruising around U Diu Grosso

We spent our last six nights in Corsica in the capital city of Ajaccio, birthplace of Napoleon. Our lovely AirBnB apartment boasted a big balcony with sea views of the famous Iles Sanguinaires (“Bloody Islands”) in the distance. (The islands are named for their appearance at sunset rather than anything violent in their history.) We were in walking distance of Trottel Beach and driving distance of several other beaches that lined the Route de Sanguinaires road out to the crumbling tower called the Tour Genoise de la Parata.

Hiking the Tour Genoise de la Parata (and a brave little sparrowhawk) with the Îles Sanguinaires and lighthouse in the distance

We spent our days enjoying the beaches, taking long rambles into the city, and hiking up to the Tour Genoise. We did a 2-tank scuba dive outing from Trottel Beach with E. Ragnole. The owner was friendly and chatty, removing any hesitation I had about booking when I stopped in to ask questions. When I told him I tend to get cold diving, he made sure I got both a long wetsuit and a shorty to wear over it. The staff was great, too, and we were assigned an English-speaking guide who we had to ourselves for the two dives. The price was reasonable and the dives were enjoyable, but the underwater landscape underwhelmed. The monochrome colors below mirror the rugged sand-colored landscape above. We saw barracuda, but missed the colorful coral and fish we’re used to. With other options calling, we opted not to dive a second day.

We also took one more sunset cruise, this time with Neptune Croisière, out to the Îles Sanguinaires. The bar was set so high at Bonifacio that this cruise with a dozen passengers, although enjoyable, couldn’t compete. Still, it was fun and included an apéritif stop on an île with enough time for us to hike through a huge seagull rookery to the lighthouse and an old keeper’s house on an opposite peak.

We loved our time in Corsica and hope to get back someday to explore more of this unique island. Next up: New Zealand via Hawaii and Tahiti.

Saint-Claude, France, and a magical hike to the Trou de l’Abîme

I had to share a quick post about the charmingly pipe-happy town of Saint-Claude, France, and the nearby Trou de l’Abîme, an enchanting hiking spot in the Jura region of France. With the June weather getting a little too hot for us in the village of Thoiry where were spending a couple of weeks house-and cat-sitting, we were off for a day in the low Jura mountains searching for somewhere cool. The pipe-happy town of Saint-Claude and the nearby Trou de l’Abîme riverside hike were the perfect finds.

The Saint-Claude Cathedral (with a pipe plant sculpture)

Saint-Claude and the Musée Pipes et Diamants

Saint-Claude bills itself as the pipe-making capital of the world and sports a giant puffing pipe, pipe plant art and pipe-shaped trash cans throughout town to honor its claim. We were really planning on hiking, but of course, we had to check out Saint-Claude. The old town perches atop high walls looming above a valley river. We visited the cathedral (always a promising place for a little break from the heat) and then were lured in by the quirky Saint-Claude Pipe and Diamond Museum. I’m so glad we were! We loved the collection of elaborately carved pipes including “pipe portraits” of famous figures and the personal portrait pipes of members of the local Brotherhood of Master Pipers club. We learned about the town’s history of pipe making, read directions on how to properly smoke a pipe, and watched a video of the robed brotherhood doing their thing. Oh yes, and there is a smaller area with diamond exhibits, too, but we’ve seen lots of diamonds and passed through that area quickly after the pipes. After a short break for cold beers and lunch, we were ready to move on to the Trou de l’Abîme (hole of the abyss).

The easy hike starts just off the road beyond an old mill covered in bright green overgrowth and looking like something from a fairy tale. Soon, we were walking along a pathway in the cool shade of moss-covered trees along a small, rushing river. Metal and wood stairs and catwalks took the path upward along the side of a narrow gorge carved by the river. The river opened into three “marmites de géant” (giant’s cauldrons), deep holes carved in the river by swirling water carrying small stones and grit. The air around us carried a wonderful, fresh-smelling chill, Nature’s own air conditioning!

Les Marmites de Géant

The hike continued past the marmites and upwards through more moss-covered forest until we reached the Trou de l’Abîme, the entrance to a vast underwater river that reaches a depth of 45 meters and surfaces and retreats underground for a total of 667 meters, 345 of which are subterranean.

So there you have it. No famous sights, but a quaint town and unique natural beauty made for a fun and interesting (and cool!) day.

Chamonix-Mont-Blanc and the Aiguille du Midi cable car

Looking back at Chamonix, France, from the Aiguille du Midi cable car as it ascends

Decades ago, I was intrigued to learn it is possible to take a cable car over the Alps from Chamonix, France, to Italy. I’d wanted to make the trip ever since, but I learned that weather was a huge factor. The Aiguille du Midi (“Needle of the Midi”) is a 12,606ft mountain peak in the Mont Blanc massif. The Aiguille du Midi cable car is the highest cable car in France and the closest you can get to the summit of Mont Blanc without climbing. Weather can turn bad quickly at such high altitudes and the cable car can be halted without notice. Losing visibility is also a risk if clouds form on the mountain peaks. Even when living in Paris, a dash for the Chamonix cable car (a 6+ hour drive or multi-stage train trip) on a day forecast to be sunny just never made sense. With two summer weeks to spend house- and cat-sitting near Geneva, I realized we were only an hour and twenty minute drive away from Chamonix. My time might finally have come to visit the famous ski town and the Aiguille du Midi cable car!

Aiguille du Midi cable car rises from Chamonix

I realized I wouldn’t be going over the Alps to Italy this time. We needed to stay in Thoiry to take care of the house and our charming feline charge, Leo. The practicalities of traveling via cable car didn’t really make sense either the more I thought about it: What to do about cars? Luggage? Riding up the highest cable car in France to look Mont Blanc “in the eye,” so to speak was more than good enough for me. I scoped out the weather predictions for the Aiguille du Midi mountain peak, picked the sunniest near-term forecast, and bought our tickets for the Aiguille du Midi cable car online.

The day arrived bright and sunny in Thoiry and we headed off. I’d chosen at 12:05 time slot thinking we’d have a leisurely start, time to look around Chamonix, and hopefully let any clouds burn off. My plan mostly paid off, but my concerns about weather were well-founded. We arrived to a clear day in Chamonix, parked just across the street from the cable car base building at the Parking du Grépon, and walked around to find a crowd in the paved plaza in front of the building waiting for their time slot to be called. Touristy types like us mingled with mountaineers hauling gear. It was warm in the sun and we headed on into town to explore and to find the makings of lunch to take up the cable car with us.

Chamonix and the Arve River with the Alps and Mont Blanc in the distance

Chamonix is every bit the pretty Alpine ski town I expected it to be. We had fun wandering the streets and really lucked out with our picnic lunch choice: Le Refuge Payot, offering local foodstuffs, turned out to have a terrific deli in the back with baguette rustique and aged meats cut to order. I chatted with the young man making our sandwiches about the changes wrought by Covid and how Chamonix was starting to regain its mojo. We also discussed the jarring shortage of Dijon mustard in France. David and I had only just discovered the empty mustard shelves upon arriving in Thoiry. There’d been plenty of mustard –which we use copiously – in Antwerp, only a shortage of certain cooking oils due to the war in Ukraine. Our sandwich-maker informed me that Chamonix, too, had no mustard. It was a sad state of affairs in a mustard-loving country and we commiserated the shortage as we discussed the crazy state of the world in general. We talked about masking and anti-maskers, government restrictions and lack thereof, all the things that most of the planet has had to deal with in one way or another. It’s a strange, bonding experience in a way. In some form or fashion, we’ve all experienced the global pandemic. Despite huge progress, all was not back to normal in Chamonix and business was relatively slow, even for the summer season. I wished him luck as we paid and packed our sandwiches into backpacks full of the warm layers we’d brought for our cable card ride.

Passing another cable car on the way up. Mid-way, the mountain slope is pretty barren, but there’s a small bar and hiking paths.

Business wasn’t so slow at the Aiguille du Midi cable car when we returned following our walk. Buying tickets in advance was definitely the right move. I’d been happy with our 12:05pm time slot, but I’d been eyeing wispy clouds growing in the direction of Mont Blanc apprehensively as we walked around Chamonix. The skies were still cloudless in the other direction with more than a dozen hang-gliders flitting above the town. For all the good that would do us if clouds snagged on the higher peaks around the summit of the Aiguille du Midi. I wanted to get up the cable car as soon as possible while the skies were still reasonably clear in that direction. Once our time slot was called, we moved quickly through the line to be packed in a probably-not-pandemic-smart way into the cable car. We snagged good spots and had wonderful views as the car moved steeply upward. There’s a stop midway, but getting off there risks being unable to find space on a crowded summit-bound car, so we stayed on to the top. And what a top! The Aiguille du Midi and the mountaintop buildings at its highest reaches exceeded my lofty expectations. Wow! And, wow, was it cold after the warm day below!

Mont Blanc across from the Aiguille du Midi. Look closely to spot climbers.

Thankfully, we’d come prepared and I’d even managed to wiggle into some layers on the ride up. Icy air and bright sunshine greeted us as we stepped onto the first of many terraces in the sprawling complex of buildings at the summit of the cable car. I hadn’t realized just how extensive the structures on the summit are; they’re truly impressive, and the soaring Alps surrounding them are even more so.

Just some of the impressive construction atop Aiguille du Mid

We wandered from building to building, terrace to terrace, marveling at the sweeping views. In all directions, we could see lines of linked mountaineers and other mountain climbers in pairs and smaller groups. It was so strange to watch people engaged in strenuous activities out in high altitude as we watched from the ease and comfort of viewing decks and big plate glass windows. Binoculars are a must-bring for a trip up the Aiguille du Midi! We could zoom in on people climbing Mont Blanc itself, wondering if gathering clouds would make them turn back, idle-if-fascinating entertainment for us, potentially life-threatening for them. Equally incongruous were the climbers around the summit buildings: We were watching Mont Blanc climbers at one point when a woman climber appeared over a boulder just in front of us. More than once, a climber appeared beside or just above a viewing deck.

A climber summits a peak adjoining a viewing terrace

Facilities at the top of the Aiguille du Midi included museum-quality exhibits on the effects of altitude and the construction of the cable car and its buildings, Le Tube, a large passage suspended between two buildings, a café, a restaurant (still closed due to Covid on our visit, but due to open soon), a gift shop, toilets and more. There is also that connection to the cable car descending into Italy. I found the whole thing wonderful, the vision, skill and chutzpah required to conceive of and build such a place remarkable.

Pas Dans le Vide with buildings and terraces below and Chamonix beyond

It would be easy to spend hours at the summit buildings, and we did. One of those hours, though, was spent in line for the Pas Dans le Vide (“Step into the Void”), a clear box over a breathtaking drop into which visitors step for an extra-special view and photos. There’s no extra charge for the experience. At first, we thought the whole concept was a waste of time, but as we found ourselves mesmerized by the views and realized we still have a view as we waited, we gave in and joined the queue. Would it have been a great trip without the Pas Dan le Vide? Yes! Am I glad we did it? Oh heck, yes! I mean, who knows if we’ll ever go back and it was unique and fun.

Château de Voltaire at Ferney-Voltaire

Wanting to take full advantage of our time house- and cat-sitting in Thoiry, France, I avidly browsed local websites and scanned any tourist brochures I came across. I was excited when I discovered that Voltaire’s home-in-exile-from-Paris for 20+ years was in nearby Ferney-Voltaire, France, only 15 minutes away. I’m a fan of the famous, witty and irreverent French philospher and writer. We had to go!

Banished from Paris by Louix XV, Voltaire (né François-Marie Arouet) lived at Ferney (later Ferney-Voltaire) from 1758 to 1778. Among other well-known works, Voltaire wrote Candide at the château in Ferney in 1759.

The Château de Voltaire at Ferney-Voltaire sits on extensive gardens perched above Lake Geneva and only a few miles from the city of Geneva. The outside is much as it was in Voltaire’s time, but the interior was changed significantly over the years. The last private owner reassembled furniture and art belonging to Voltaire and the property now belongs to the French state. Displays of models and diagrams depict the changes and show how the château looked when Voltaire lived there with his niece, Mme Denis née Marie Louise Mignot, the daughter of Voltaire’s sister. Mme Denis served as hostess for the many guests who visited the château. Although they never married, Voltaire was reported enamoured of Mme Denis and she inherited his estate upon his death.

Statue of Voltaire just inside the front door of the château

The interior of the château is beautifully maintained with inlaid floors and period furniture. A life-size statue of the puckish Voltaire stands just inside the front door. We thoroughly enjoyed our visit of the château, which finishes with a room of books and comic books depicting Voltaire in some way. The variety of books and the way in which Voltaire remains relevant to so many is surprising and a tribute to the man.

Looking towards the Alps from the château gardens

The château offers views of the Alps from the formal gardens. A small orangerie at one end is apparently an event venue now. In addition to the main gardens, the château grounds include woods, a tree-lined bower, a field with sheep and plots used for farming.

Practical info: From April 1 – September 30, the château is open from 10am-6pm. From October 1 – March 31, the château is open from 10am-5pm. During both seasons, it is open every day with the last entry 45 minutes before closing. The château is closed on January 1, May 1 and December 25. Check here for more details and prices.

Annecy: a picturesque city on an Alpine lake bustles in the summer sun

The Palais de l’Isle in the middle of the Thiou River dates to the 12th century.

I’ve known several people from Annecy, heard about it for years, but had never had the opportunity to visit. With Annecy just under an hour drive away from our house- and cat-sit in Thoiry, now was the perfect time.

The route took us over the Rhône River and through the Haute-Savoie region of France. We arrived on a warm, sunny June holiday (Lundi de Pentecôte) to find Annecy absolutely buzzing with people. Despite the hordes and lack of street parking, we found ample cheap parking in the château parking lot just a short walk up the hill from the city center. I was worried about the crowds at first, but the city absorbed them well and the atmosphere was festive rather than claustrophobic. For lunch, we surprisingly had no wait for an outdoor table in the shade at the café of our choice, Café Bichette. We enjoyed trying award-winning local beers – a blonde for me and a triple for David – from Brasseurs Savoyards.

Annecy is picture-perfect little city in an idyllic setting on Lac d’Annecy/ Lake Annecy, one of the five Alpine lakes. Only 40-45 min. down the A41 from Geneva, it’s well worth the drive. The old town dates back centuries with its iconic Palais de l’Isle in the middle of the Thiou River dating to the 12th century. (See lead photo and viewed from behind in the photo immediately above.) The Palais was a small castle near where the river and lake meet, then a prison and a courthouse, then a prison again during WWII. It houses a small history museum now and makes for a nice stop.

Boats abound on Lake Annecy on a sunny June day.

We explored the old town at leisure, enjoying the weather, walking along the lake and lakeside park, people- and boat- watching. Motor boats, tour boats and lots and lots of small pedal boats dotted the lake. At the end of our day, we wandered back up the hill to visit Château d’Annecy (Annecy Castle), the former home of the Counts of Geneva and the Dukes of Genevois-Nemours before before heading back to the parking garage and our car. The château is large and houses both historical items and art depicting the region as well as a display relating to the five alpine lakes, their marine life and the local fishing heritage. Château d’Annecy also offers a view over the old town rooftops, lake and mountains.

House- and cat-sitting in a little village near Geneva

Swans on Lake Geneva at Vevey, hoping to share our lunch

UPDATE 1/1/2025: My Trustedhousesitters referral link is currently offering a 25% discount (previously 20%).

It had been awhile since David and I did a pet- and housesitting gig for someone new, but we had a couple of weeks to fill between our latest cat-sit in Antwerp and the time I’d set aside for a long-wished-for trip to Corsica. On whim, I searched Trustedhousesitters.com for something that might work. (See my earlier posts on pet- and housesitting here and here.) I was intrigued to find a two-week cat- and housesit in Thoiry, France, a small village nestled against the Jura Mountains just outside of Geneva, Switzerland. I wrote the owner, Lydia, right away; we had a great video chat and it was a done deal. Her tomcat, Leo, turned out to be the easiest cat-sit ever. He roamed at night and came home in the morning for breakfast and to socialize and nap. He never even used his litterbox during our stay. Lydia’s home was cute, comfortable and modern and a breeze to maintain with techy touches including a robot lawn mower and big, retractable awning over the patio.

A mere 7.5 miles (12 km) from the Geneva airport (GVA), Thoiry is an easy commute to the city, but still retains a charming “main street” with a terrific bakery (La Boulange), a grocery store, a wine shop, a few eateries, and a lively market filled with regional goods every Sunday. A modern mall sits amid a commercial center 2 km from the village center. Thoiry prides itself on its beekeepers and honey and wooden bee statues are scattered throughout the town.

One of two bee statues flanking the approach to the Thoiry town hall

I hadn’t been in the region in many years, since the first year I’d lived with my boys in Paris. Back then, we’d trained to Geneva to stay with family friends at their chalet in the Haute Savoie on the other (still French) side of Geneva from Thoiry. I was looking forward to revisiting beautiful villages along Lake Geneva/Lac Leman and discovering others yet unknown to me. Then, there were interesting places to explore in the Jura and daytrips to be had in Alpine towns.

There’s been plenty written about Geneva and the gorgeous towns along Lake Geneva, so although we loved Vevey, Montreux, Ivoire and more, I won’t go into much detail here save to share a few photos and say that the castle at Montreux (Château de Chillon) is worth a visit, especially on a pretty day. Just remember to have your paper “parking clock” to put under the windshield if you’re driving and want to park on the street. We picked one up for free at the castle, but it turned out the car rental company had provided one in the glove box, if only I’d thought to look.

View from the Château de Chillon in Montreux with the
Dents du Midi (in the Chablais Alps) in the distance

[Note: France now requires an international driving permit or that a foreign-language license be translated into French by government-approved translators (a near impossibility for short-term tourists). One-year international driving permits are easy to get and cheap at AAA, but need to be gotten before leaving the U.S. unless you’ve got lots of time abroad to mail your application and for the permit to be mailed before you need to drive.]

Driving was easy on great French and Swiss roads. Like everyone in the region, we made frequent border-crossings, always passing right through with no passport check; even though Switzerland is not an EU member it is in the Schengen Area. The biggest driving hassle was Geneva traffic which seemed never-ending and made the city an annoying-if-lovely bottleneck. I’ll touch on a few of our favorite daytrips in the posts that follow: Annecy, Voltaire’s château, Chamonix, and the Jura, with quirky little St-Claude and its pipes and lush hiking trails being an unexpected treat.