Tunneling from Chamonix to Aosta

Roman Théâtre at Night

        Our mini vacation in Chamonix was a fun getaway, and when we left the French side of the Alps, we decided to make a hop, skip, and a jump into the Italian border region of the Aosta Valley. We were able to cross country lines through the engineering marvel of the 7.2 mile Mont Blanc Tunnel. (Click the link to see a 1954 Popular Mechanics article about the tunnel, which was finally completed in 1965.) The $1.50 toll has risen a bit in the 21st century, and a round-trip ticket now sets you back 51€! But it does reduce the travel time from 90 minutes to a mere 12 minutes between the two countries.

       We patiently waited our turn to enter the tunnel—the usual timed entry is every 7 seconds to regulate traffic and cut down on the noxious fumes. Vehicles are kept 150 meters apart in the tunnel, and you can gauge your distance by the lights on the walls, helping you to regulate your speed to that of the car ahead. The speed limit and other safety measures are strictly enforced with on-the-spot fines of €90 to €750 for speeding and €135 for driving too close. The passage was long but uneventful, and we soon saw the Italian “welcome” sign as we emerged from the tunnel.

Welcome to Italia

     Our route to Aosta brought us through quaint little hamlets, and we passed signs in both French and Italian because of the proximity of the two countries. We were too early to check into our bed and breakfast, so we programmed Cindy (our navigator) to head us into the center of Aosta for a quick preview of the city.

       Aosta has had its share of conquerors—the Burgundians, the Ostrogoths, the Byzantines, or anyone who happened to be passing by—so it’s no wonder they are so flexible with their language; they’re used to speaking something different with every subjugator, and evidence of their conquerors’ influences are everywhere.

    Particularly ubiquitous in Aosta are the ancient Roman remains. The Porta Praetoria from 25 BC and the ancient town walls are still intact, and the streets are arranged according to the original Roman plan for optimal defense of the city. We breathed in Aosta’s history in the forum Cryptoporticus next to the Santa Maria Assunta Cathedral.

Cryptoporticus Walk

     The southern façade is all that remains of the Roman theatre that was built when the town was called Augustus Praetorius, and the vestiges of the ruins have been put to a new use. What had once been the site of who-knows-what Roman “entertainment,” is nowadays used for tamer diversions, and under the full moon we took in a light show called Théâtre et Lumières 2013 while we balanced ourselves on seats that had once been ancient pylons that had supported walls.

What's left of the Roman Thèâtre

    Our B&B, Hôtel Le Charaban, was a short drive out of town in a quiet area surrounded by grape vines tiered on the hillside. The tranquil view from our room window was juxtaposed with the whimsical paintings that were for sale but also decorated the walls. We spent a quiet candle-lit evening in the B&B's dining room, enjoying a delicious dinner punctuated by fresh cremini mushrooms and unpronounceable Italian delicacies and watching the Roman moon rise over, for us, the flip side of the Alps.

Hôtel Le Charabon

B&B view of the vineyards

      The next day, we explored one of the medieval castles not far from Aosta. The Castello di Fénis was built in 1242 and has changed hands a few times, sometimes to the detriment of the preservation of the original building. (Every owner had an idea of how to make it “homey.”) It has a fairy tale quality, but no matter how many castles I see, I always think, you have to heat it and clean it, and that stops my dreaming about drafty, 150-room castle living.

Fénis Castle still standing

        Our next stop brought us to some of the numerous waterfalls that flow in this area of Italy. The bucolic drive from Fénis Castle landed us in the village of Cogne. A quick stop at an outdoor café fortified us for the hike to the Lillaz falls, where we climbed up and up and up to enjoy the gushing, cascading waters. Pretty soon, the clouds gathered above, the wind began to whip, and thunder crashed overhead. We made for the car, wondering if we would be fried by a lightning strike or drowned with the imminent soaking rain. We made it with a minute to spare before the heavens opened.

Lillaz Waterfall adventure

      The following day, we pointed the Citroën west, back towards France, and retraced our journey of four days earlier—tunneling again through the Alpine mountains, skirting around Chamonix, and descending back to Grenoble. Now that we look at the map again, we realize with a little more fortitude (and time), we could have also easily hit neighboring Switzerland, too. Yeah, the Great Saint Bernard Tunnel (Tunnel del Gran San Bernardo) would have made the perfect third point of an unforgettable Alpine triangle.

From Chamonix, France to Aosta, Italy

We're in Italy. Language confusion, but who cares? It's cheese!