August 19: For those who just like to watch, a few random shots and thoughts:
Locarno is a lovely lake-side town in the Italian sector of Switzerland. It has a 
pretty promenade along the lake and an older quarter further up the hill. In the centre of town is the Grand Place, where they recently held an outdoor film festival. As in many European squares, it is ringed with handsome buildings and outdoor cafes and shops. But what I found really interesting is the streetlights. They are strung on a grid of wires across the square and, when they come on at night, they give a sense of enclosure and the effect of being in a huge room with overhead lighting. The film festival must have been like watching movies in a giant living room with 300 friends.
I left Locarno following the Swiss Riviera south along Lago di Maggiore. The reference to the Riviera is apt; the villas and vistas are very similar to the Cote d’Azur. Moving through this kind of scenery, it’s easy to imagine that everyone must be living perfect lives of quiet indulgence and extravagant parties. Even smaller towns are so picturesque that it’s possible to forget that they are not fairy-tale recreations. They are, in fact, places where people live real lives, full of all the pressures and joys and sorrows that we feel in our own lives.
The next night, I stayed in Pre St. Didier at the foot of Mont Blanc – seen here to the left of the picture. At breakfast I sat outside and the woman who brought the coffee commented on the vista of 
the mountain from the restaurant. She said that as a girl, her bedroom had a small window that looked directly at the mountain. When she married a man from Courmayeur – about 2 km up the road – she missed the view so much that they had to move back to Pre St. Didier. She works as a server in a restaurant, is married and has 2 kids, but her daily reality includes one of the most breathtaking views in Europe.
I
find mountains interesting: they are so massive that they affect climate. Weather around them is constantly changing and difficult to predict. Looking at mountains is fascinating because the view is always changing: crystal clear skies and razor sharp or shrouded in clouds, it’s never the same look twice.
And then there’s the problem of getting through them. I come here to ride some of the mountain passes (like Petit St. Bernard seen here), but frankly, they are not my favourite riding experience. Virtually every pass combines a set of tight hairpin turns with short runs through a pasture or forest. At my mediocre skill level, I find uphill, right-hand hairpins to be extremely stressful. Riding a high pass is never a relaxing affair for me; it’s more of an accomplishment than a pleasure. However, because of their elevation, mountain passes are always cool (7 to 10 C is not uncommon in the summer) and that has come as a welcome relief during this, one of the hottest summers on record.