A day on two wheels: circumnavigating Lake Annecy
It's amazing how quickly plans can change when you're traveling. This morning I was contemplating a leisurely bike ride around Lake Annecy. By afternoon, I'd committed to the full 40km circuit, and now I'm sitting in my room with pleasantly tired legs and a head full of alpine scenery.
The day began with another visit to that little café I found yesterday. I arrived at 7:50 for their 8:00 opening, so I waited by the lake watching early morning rowers glide across the water. The café owner recognized me and asked if I wanted "the same as yesterday." It's funny how quickly you can become a regular, even as a traveler.
After breakfast, I headed to a bike rental shop near the lake. The shopkeeper asked about my plans, and when I mentioned I was considering the lake circuit, she looked me up and down and said, "The full tour? It will take 3-4 hours depending on stops. Are you sure?"
I hesitated briefly, remembering I hadn't done much cycling lately. But the weather was perfect for it—cool but sunny, around 13°C with those mostly cloudy skies they'd predicted. I nodded and found myself being fitted for a bike moments later.
"You'll want to go counterclockwise," she advised. "It puts the lake on your right side the whole way and gives better views."
The route started easily enough, following a dedicated bike path from Annecy through the Jardins de l'Europe and along the west shore. The lake shimmered in shades of blue I hadn't seen since, well, since I don't know when. The water here is remarkably clear—apparently one of Europe's cleanest lakes due to strict environmental regulations since the 1960s.
I passed through Veyrier-du-Lac and Menthon-Saint-Bernard, stopping to photograph a particularly striking château perched above the water. Oak and beech trees lined portions of the route, their leaves just beginning to show hints of autumn colors. I found myself stopping frequently, first for the trees, then for the views across to the mountains on the opposite shore.
The eastern side of the lake proved more challenging. The bike path occasionally merged with the road, and some sections involved climbing that had me shifting into lower gears. Near Talloires, I paused at a small beach area to rest and drink water. An older gentleman with a camera nodded at me and said something in French. When I looked confused, he switched to accented English.
"Perfect day for the tour, yes? The weekend crowds are gone."
We chatted briefly about the route ahead. He mentioned a particularly steep section coming up and suggested a small restaurant in Doussard at the southern tip of the lake. "Good place to refuel before the return journey."
He was right about both. The climb after Talloires had me questioning my life choices, but the descent toward Doussard made it worthwhile. The restaurant he recommended served a simple but perfect lunch of local cheese, bread, and a small salad. I sat on their terrace overlooking the lake, stretching my legs under the table and watching paragliders drift down from the surrounding mountains.
The western shore of the lake offered a more developed landscape but an easier ride. The bike path here was wider and flatter, passing through several small towns. I stopped in Duingt to photograph its picturesque castle and again in Saint-Jorioz where a group of swans gathered near the shore.
By the time I completed the circuit and returned to Annecy around 3:30pm, my legs were reminding me how long it had been since I'd done any serious cycling. But it was a satisfying kind of tired. I returned the bike, thanked the shopkeeper, and walked slowly back toward my guesthouse, stopping for an ice cream despite the cool temperature.
After a hot shower and some rest, I ventured out again for dinner. The evening air had turned quite chilly, around 7°C according to my phone. I found a small restaurant serving Savoyard specialties and ordered a tartiflette—a rich dish of potatoes, reblochon cheese, lardons, and onions. It was exactly what my body needed after the day's exertion.
Now, sitting in my room with a cup of tea, I'm looking at the photos from today's journey. The circuit around Lake Annecy offered such variety—medieval villages, Belle Époque mansions, mountain backdrops, and those incredible blue waters. It's hard to believe I've only been in France for a week. It feels both longer and shorter somehow.
Forty days into this journey, and I'm starting to find a rhythm that works. Not planning too far ahead. Saying yes to unexpected opportunities. Finding the balance between activity and rest.
Tomorrow I'm thinking about visiting the Château d'Annecy, which houses a regional art and history museum. The weather forecast looks good—sunny and slightly warmer. But for now, my legs are telling me it's time for sleep.
460 days to go. I wonder how many more lakes and mountains await.