The Caves of Sessenage, the World's Most Beautiful Hydro Plant, and the 'Cinematic' Tennis Coach

Since we’ve had to get up and get the boys to their tennis camp by 9 am each day -- which requires us to go down the mountain, then across most of Grenoble -- we’ve started to feel like regular commuters. It’s a pretty commute. First you pass this sign:



Then you continue down a winding mountain road, with views of Grenoble below:



Even after you come out of the “country” part of the commute, you have to drive through the relatively narrow streets of two suburbs, Corenc and La Tronche, before getting to Grenoble. (As an aside, one of the big differences between the U.S. and France is that the French still have main roads and highways going through the narrow streets in the centers of villages. Through La Tronche, the main roadway up to the Chartreuse is so narrow that two cars can barely pass.) Once in Grenoble we pass along the Right Bank of the Isere until we take a left and head south on the Rue de la Liberation:



Until we arrive at the Grenoble Tennis Center. After dropping the kids off, Suzie and I usually stop somewhere for an espresso, then head off to explore.

Grenoble is situated in a valley at the confluence of two rivers, the Isere and the Drac, and is surrounded by three large mountain ranges, or massifs, the Chartreuse (to the north), the Vercors (to the east) and the Belledonne (to the west and south). Unlike the Sierra Nevada, there are no foothills to these mountain ranges; in places they just arise straight up from the valley floor. We had read about a town called Sassenage, a suburb of Grenoble about 4 miles to the east, located on the north edge of the Vercors, which is near a couple of caves that you can tour. So on Thursday, after dropping the kids at tennis camp, we headed for Sassenage.

It was a short drive, and we parked near the old center of the town:



Near the town center was a park, and beyond the park was the beginning of the trail to the caves, The trail ran parallel to a small stream, which had cut a deep gorge into the massif. The trail was very steep at first, but then leveled off. About 15 minutes up was the cave, which we decided to wait to do until the afternoon. Instead, we hiked on up the trail, going further into the gorge and higher and higher in elevation.







If you look closely at the last picture above, you’ll notice something that you would never, never see in the U.S., evidence that the trial lawyers have not yet taken over France: There is only one rail on the bridge, despite the fact that it is high enough that falling off of it could lead to serious bodily injury, economic damages, emotional distress, loss of consortium, and even wrongful death. It seems to be the case in most public places all over France that people are expected to take care of their own damned selves, and are not able to sue if they don’t. Another example: At the Air Park where Suzie and the boys climbed on Wednesday, no one asked them to sign a release. They were given some training and told to always follow the instructions given, and that it was a very dangerous activity if they did not … and then they were free to do as they wished. Very refreshing.

I seem to have wandered off the trail, metaphorically. On the way back (and I post this especially for all my good friends at the Water Agency), we passed what had to be the world’s most beautiful hydroelectric plant, quaintly producing electricity by taking advantage of the extreme elevation drop we’d just come down. No fish protestors, and the residents right next to the plant (second picture) don’t seem to mind it (although they must enjoy the sound of falling water).





We then took a short drive up into the Vercors a ways, resulting in this picture of the Chartreuse:



After finding a boulangerie and sharing an absolutely delicious chicken, egg, cheese, lettuce, and tomato sandwich (why is the bread so much better here?), we went back to pick up the boys, stopping on the way at yet another small, homey café for coffees. We then went back to Sassenage for the cave tour, which was remarkable in two ways. First, the caves themselves were extraordinary, with underground rivers and waterfalls, enormous open chambers, tight, narrow passageways, stalagmites, stalactites (bonus points for anyone who knows which grows up and which grows down without looking it up), flints, fossils, and a cold, cold chill throughout. Second, we made the tour, as luck would have it, with a contingent of 24 French children from day care, ranging in age from six to eight. When we saw them coming up the hill while we were waiting for our guide, we thought, ‘Oh, no, there goes the experience,’ but in fact it was kind of cool being around so much enthusiasm. Bravo, I guess, for the woman who was leading them, for being brave enough to take them there; she tried to keep them quiet, constantly telling them to shut up (in an anything but gentle voice; in some ways she was more annoying than they were), but it was just impossible given the circumstances. We still enjoyed the experience very much, although by the end I found myself very glad to get back into the warm, open air and sunshine.

That night we took it easy. The boys wanted to off by themselves to the village to eat dinner, so we gave them some money and let them go. Odd that we feel more comfortable doing that here than back home. Suzie and I watched some TV, then we all went to bed early.

Suzie and I are both noticing how much better our French, and particularly our French comprehension, has become. Suzie has become a very good French speaker (a number of people have complemented her on this), and I can at least hold my own on most transactions. The thing that always throws me is when someone says something that is totally out of context. It’s happened to me twice on this trip: Once, while I was negotiating through traffic (perfectly legally and appropriately as far as I could tell), someone who was acting as an unofficial traffic director stuck his head into the car and said … well, I have absolutely no idea what he said. When I said, “Pardon?” he simply motioned me on. The second instance was while I was buying some groceries; after scanning my groceries I expected the checkout lady would look at me and say, “Dix-huit quatre-vingt euro, s’il vous plait,” but instead she looked at me, rather earnestly, and said … well, again, I don’t really know, although in retrospect I think she was asking me for the equivalent of my Safeway Card. Aside from those types of instances, I’m getting much better. I can actually sometimes follow the newscasts, and, as I said, Suzie is quickly climbing up the fluency ladder.

Sorry for this post being so long, but I’m combining two days. Today was a short day, taking the boys to and from tennis camp – wait, this requires a diversion….

I may have mentioned that the boys were having some difficulty at the camp, because the instructor and the other participants are serious players. At the end of the day on Thursday, the coach told us that Andrew, my usually wonderful 11 year-old with the sunny personality, was being very competitive and disputatious. Andrew denied this, of course, and all the way home, as they have more or less all week, the boys complained about their coach, especially how he’d say “Ooh la la” if they’d miss a shot, and how any time they complained or were dramtic, he’d say “Cinema, cinema,” (or, as the boys say it, in their faux French accents, “sceeeen-ee-maaaa, sceeeen-ee-maaaa.” It got to be a joke, and I’m sure "cinema" will stay in our family’s internal repetoir for a long time.

But you wouldn’t suspect any of this from this sweetness-and-light picture, would you?



Suzie and I just puttzed around Grenoble today, and on the way home we stopped at an overlook. A few pictures follow. I should add that we are not looking forward to flying through London on the way home. I don’t think we’re scared (although thank God for the British police), given that the security is so tight now. But it may be a long, long day, and as of now, we can’t even take a book on the plane with us. So, if I’m not there on Thursday, you’ll know our flight was cancelled or delayed.







And sorry, one final weird observation; To get the pictures properly sized, I had to use the calculator program in Windows, which on my machine is the (presumably, "La") "Calculatrice." I prefer working, I think, with La Calculatrice, rather than the calculator.