Chamonix – Aosta – Ivrea – Chivasso – Torino Porta Nuova – Alessandria – Bologna

In seeking out new routes across Europe, I’ve spotted a few oddities but this one is probably not on the radar of most Interrail travellers. The Mont Blanc Tunnel has linked France and Italy by road since 1965, and I’d found that a coach service linked railway stations in Chamonix and Aosta.

Walking to the coach I had a better view of the mountains than last night. The water in the river is a very odd colour, I wonder what causes that.

The coach arrived on time and the drive to the tunnel was only a few minutes. The road takes a series of hairpin bends to gain height as we approach the entrance.

I was astonished to find that the toll to pass through by coach was over €200. Strangely it is slightly more expensive to travel from Italy than from France as the VAT rates are different in the two countries. I’m not sure how the coach company recoups the cost as I’d paid just €8 for my ticket, though I suppose most travellers are on a longer journey; this coach was destined for Venice.

We were delayed for more than half an hour on the Italian side while border police boarded the coach, took everyone’s passports away to their office, asked questions of a few people and returned them. There was a somewhat farcical moment as they were handing them back and couldn’t work out who was who from the photos. I was offered an identify card rather than my passport which they seemed confused that I declined.

Eventually we were on our way though. It’s clearly expected as we were still on time into Aosta. The first views of Italy on this wet morning were markedly different to the French side of the tunnel.

The coach and rail stations in Aosta are almost next door to each other. Frustratingly the railway has been closed for some time while they electrify the line so my Interrail pass admitted me to a replacement coach service for the stopping “train” to Ivrea. I had time to look at the station and it was very clear that nothing had passed this way in ages.

The reason the line was closed during the upgrades soon became clear, as the road follows the railway quite closely. Various railway bridges were being rebuilt to accommodate the increased headroom needed for the overhead cables.

The coach weaves its way down the valley, calling at every tiny halt, but with some great views of the vineyards in between. I was amused by this set of road signs at one junction.

One place that caught my eye was a hilltop castle, accessed by an outdoor lift. It was clearly a major tourist attraction and rightly so as it was quite spectacular. I think I need to spend more time in this rather attractive part of Italy.

We returned to the railway at Ivrea, from where I caught a local service to Chivasso. On arrival here, I was unexpectedly able to join a late-running express to Turin. This was great news as it meant I would have a couple of hours for a first look at a city I’ve never visited. I put my bags into the left luggage office and set off towards the centre. The station itself is rather attractive and lies at the end of a long straight road into the middle of the city.

Approaching the centre I was greeted by a pair of impressive sculptures either side of the entrance to a large square. In the square a crowd had gathered around a busker who was playing a very impressive arrangement of Bohemian Rhapsody with no backing or singing. I took my time to hear him out before continuing on my way. The town wasn’t too busy and I immediately warmed to the place. It has some lovely architecture.

The road from the station ends in front of the Palazzo Reale, in one of several large squares that are next to each other.

I was wandering fairly aimlessly around, having not had time to prepare this visit at all, but I’m quite content to follow my nose and wherever I looked the views were lovely. The tramline running through a tiny historic archway was incredible.

It was around the time that I was looking down the latest of a series of archways that link the roads that my mind turned to the iconic 60s film, The Italian Job, which was largely filmed in this city.

A quick look online told me that one of the locations of the famous scene where the stolen bullion van is unloaded into three minis was not far away. It turned out to be the entrance to a museum, and somewhat amusingly a delivery vehicle was being unloaded in almost exactly the right spot!

It took me no time at all to find a still from the film confirming that I was indeed in the right location.

The image at the top of this post is of the entrance to this building, though the location used in the film to represent the outside of the building is a short walk away at Piazza di Citta, which I didn’t visit on this short trip. This website has more information about the film locations.

Just beyond this point I entered another square with a gallery at one side, outside which I saw this rather fun pair of wire sculptures.

I took a different route back to the station, passing through more lovely streets and a couple of impressive shopping arcades. What a great city, I will definitely be back for a longer look.

I collected my bags back at the station and boarded the local service to Alessandria. I’d arranged to meet my friend Gilly here as we were going to a concert together. It’s a pleasant enough little town with the clock on the town hall being the one really distinctive feature.

I’d planned to pass through this area anyway as part of my travels so when Carmen Consoli announced a concert as part of her warm up for a huge show in Paris a few days later, it was easy enough to adjust the itinerary by a day. We were sat right at the front and had a great view of the show.

Afterwards we stuck around for a while and said hello to Carmen, who I’ve met a few times now. The local fans were really friendly as well, and stories were swapped of Carmen’s shows, as well as of other concerts we’d seen.

I’d originally planned to stay in Alessandria after the show but Gilly had asked if I’d car share with her back to Bologna afterwards. She needed to get home for work first thing the following morning and didn’t fancy the long drive alone at night. The length of the journey was increased by a motorway closure for the last section into Bologna, and it was around 3am when she dropped me at my hotel. I’d been offered a room at their place but knew that I needed to do some work calls in the morning and as she was also working from home it felt more sensible and flexible to have a space of my own.