Feel the burn!

The last few days following our visit to the Parc de Merlet have been somewhat telling as to just how long it's been since I did any exercise (a couple of months probably)! Oh I've done a couple of walks on the flat round the lake at Passy and also into Cluses but actually doing something even slightly strenous? Nope, I've been avoiding that like the plague, so the climb from the parking lot to the park entrance the other day was a struggle, even though, being perfectly honest, it shouldn't have been difficult at all. Anyway. all that to say that for the past couple of days I've been falling out of bed and hobbling around as my poor old muscles try to figure out what on earth just happened! As things calmed down a bit I decided that I didn't want to keep going through that every time I made any effort so the best thing to do - apparently - is to keep at it!

I mentioned before that I follow a few hiking groups on FB and when I see anything that looks relatively easy and somewhat local I've been making a note of it with a view to "getting round to it someday"! To be honest, if I don't do it in the autumn with the cooler weather I'm probably not going to do it when the snow comes am I, so my friend and I decided that since today was supposed to be nice we'd take a trip out to a place called the Gorges de Diosaz, which turned out to be only about 20 minutes from the Parc de Merlet, so not far at all. Then this morning my friend let me know that she had had a bad night and hadn't slept so I decided to head off on my own because I knew I'd soon be getting cabin fever again if I didn't get out and walk!

At the entrance to the park there was a signpost to a small cave which I'm presuming had indeed started off as a cave but which had later been hollowed out further and used to store dynamite for mining purposes!

According to the signs posted outside, it appears that some poor family had actually lived in this cave for three years (????) in the late1800s and a pitiful young (unmarried) woman had been forced to give birth there - a child which was promptly proclaimed an orphan and adopted into what I'm presuming was a noble family (given the name) and raised alongside their nine other children!

Cralin, the little boy born in the cave, I believe!

After visiting the cave I couldn't find any valid excuse to delay the hike up to the end of the gorge - all 600 steps of it! Now to be honest it wasn't actually that bad because there were "landing areas" every so many steps so it wasn't as though you had to keep going non-stop. As I set off I bumped into an older English couple and when we got chatting the man asked if I was "a scouser" (i.e. from Liverpool), which wasn't a bad shot I suppose as I'm actually from Birmingham and some people think the accents are alike. They were actually living in a smallish village in Herefordshire right near the village where I got married!! It's a small world isn't it! They were only over here for a few days for their niece's wedding, which was going to be taking place the next day at 2,000 metres, so I told them to pack something warm (I'm thinking cable car ride up) and wished them luck. What a lovely place to get married!

After that it was simply a question of trudging my way up which, as I say, really wasn't that bad if you managed to avoid the ice cold water dripping off some of the overhanging rocks. All in all it took me about an hour to get to the top and since tomorrow is also scheduled to be nice, I might see if I can get another walk in before the bad weather hits on Sunday!