It started with a down. The car had stopped at the crossing for another pedestrian and I, naively, expected it would stay stopped while I walked across. But no. After yelling a very loud swear word as it ran straight into me, knocking me and my luggage to the ground, I recall thinking that this might not be a very good day.
Adrenalin kicked in as I retreated to the side of the road, grateful that nothing appeared broken or damaged. With several cars offering to be witnesses and give statements on my behalf, I spent most of the time thanking them, telling them that I was OK and consoling the young, shaking girl that had hit me. Sometimes it's just not worth making a fuss in a foreign language when no real harm was done. Well, apart from the nightmares of little white cars lunging at me, no real harm.
Things began to look up a few hours later after reaching Morzine - a beautiful town, full of flowers, set amongst the mountains with tonnes of good walking trails and views. Having just missed the Harley-Davidson convention, it seemed surprising how many groups of British guys were around. The fact they they were a lot less hairy than most Harley riders did make me wonder what they were all doing in town.
It seems that Morzine is one of the premier downhill mountain biking locations in the world. The UK doesn't have many big mountains, so across to France they come in their hundreds. The fantastic ski lift systems takes riders up with their bikes, then down the trails they come. The grazed bodies and arm slings around town was a good indication of the hazards, but the smiles, laughter and jokes over a beer or two showed just how much fun everyone was having, along with the thrills and spills.
It's always nice when a down is followed by lots of ups.