Viva La France!

Just outside the Norway House restaurant in Cesana Torinese, Italy, is a road sign that says Francia 7.

I’d never been to France, so I couldn’t pass up this opportunity. Seven kilometers is only 4.3 miles. I could handle that, even if it was all uphill.

Fortified by a sugar donut and succo arancio (orange juice), I embarked on my journey up into the French Alps this morning.

It wasn’t that taxing. I caught a bus.

My Olympic credential got me on the spectator’s DOM-43 bus which runs from Cesana Torinese to Monginevro, France every 30 minutes.

I knew I had gotten on the proper bus when I saw a sign on the left side of the road that said Francia. A sign on the right said France.

There was a border guard, but he barely looked at the bus as went it by.

The full trip, including a stop in the Italian ski resort town of Claviere, took 24 minutes.

The bus stopped right in the heart of town, which was spelled Montgenevre in France. Montgenevre is bisected by a two-lane highway with the ski slopes on the left side, and restaurants, bars and shops lining the right side, with condos and hotels just behind them in the hills.

I explored the town, did a little shopping, then settled in at the outdoor patio of the Le Graal café. I watched as several skiers finished their runs, hobbled across the street in their boots, dropped off their skis in the racks, and sat down for lunch in the bright sun.

The French waitress surprised me by bringing me a pitcher of water. In Cesana Torinese you have to ask for it. Otherwise the service was similar to Italy — slooooow.

I noticed several skiers ordered large, juicy hamburgers and fries, but I figured I’d those soon enough. Instead I ordered the Frenchiest-looking thing on the menu — a Tartiflette. It was a baked soufflé dish filled with potatoes, bacon, onion, reblochon cheese and parma ham, accompanied by a crisp green salad.

It was magnifique!

Alas, before too long it was time to get back to Italy to cover the men’s aerials. The bus arrived, the doors opened, and a dog got off — followed by a man holding a leash.

Those two didn’t have skis, but many of the other riders did.

I hopped back on the bus, and it arrived in Cesana Torinese in 18 minutes, even with two stops in Claviere.

All told, the round-trip to a foreign country took 42 minutes — or about 25 minutes less than it normally takes to get to Turin.

Ah, the world keeps getting smaller and smaller, doesn't it?