1. Arrival in Grenoble: The Gateway to the Alps
The first time I laid eyes on Grenoble, it was through the windshield of a compact Peugeot I picked up from Lyon-Saint Exupéry Airport. After a two-hour drive south through the Rhône-Alpes region, I reached the city nestled between mountain ranges. Even from a distance, Grenoble’s setting was nothing short of breathtaking — surrounded by towering peaks, forests brushing against the city edges, and the crisp, slightly pine-scented air flowing in through the car window.
I arrived just before sunset. The horizon blushed behind the Belledonne Mountains, casting a soft light over the Isère River as I crossed one of the many bridges into the city center. My first night was spent at a small guesthouse near Place Victor Hugo, where the windows overlooked rows of tiled rooftops and distant mountain silhouettes.
2. Driving Into Nature: Planning the Route
I spent the next morning plotting out my route with a paper map I picked up at the local tourist office. While phone apps were helpful, there was something grounding about laying the map on the table and drawing a rough circle around the destinations I wanted to hit: Chartreuse, Vercors, Belledonne, and Écrins. Each area promised a different kind of natural beauty — dense forests, limestone cliffs, alpine lakes, and glacier-fed rivers.
Renting a car was straightforward, and the mountain roads around Grenoble were surprisingly well-maintained. I quickly learned that having an early start was key — parking spaces at popular nature spots filled up fast, especially on sunny weekends.
3. Chartreuse Mountains: Misty Forests and Hidden Monasteries
The first leg of the journey led me north into the Chartreuse range. Leaving Grenoble behind, I followed the D512 toward Saint-Pierre-de-Chartreuse, a winding route that twisted through steep forested slopes. Morning mist clung to the trees as I ascended, the road occasionally narrowing into tight hairpins with stunning views across the valleys.
I stopped briefly at the Grande Chartreuse Monastery. Visitors can’t enter the actual monastery, but there’s a nearby museum that offers insight into the Carthusian monks who live in near-complete silence. Walking the trails nearby felt deeply peaceful — the only sounds were birdsong and the occasional rustle of deer in the undergrowth.
A short hike led me to the Cirque de Saint-Même, a lush amphitheater of cliffs with several cascading waterfalls. The trail was muddy in parts but manageable. The waterfalls pounded into clear pools below, framed by moss-covered rocks and the sound of rushing water that filled the air. I had a simple picnic — baguette, cheese, apples — sitting on a flat stone just beside one of the streams.
4. Belledonne Range: High Peaks and Hidden Lakes
The next day I pointed the car east toward the Belledonne massif. These peaks are higher and more rugged than Chartreuse, and the drive felt a little more intense. I headed toward Chamrousse, a ski resort in winter that transforms into a quiet alpine escape in the warmer months.
A hiking trail from Chamrousse 1650 led to Lac Achard, a small glacial lake cradled between jagged peaks. It took about an hour to hike up, the path winding through wildflower-covered meadows and patches of lingering snow. I passed a few groups of hikers, but for the most part, it was quiet. When I reached the lake, I found it still partially frozen, with patches of green-blue water reflecting the sky. I sat for a long time on a flat rock, listening to the wind whistle over the peaks and watching clouds drift over the mountains.
Driving back down in the late afternoon, I pulled off to the side of the road near a viewpoint above the Romanche Valley. Below me, the sun was casting a golden glow on the rooftops of small villages, the river glinting as it snaked through the valley floor. It was the kind of view that made me pause, not for a photo, but just to take it all in.
5. Vercors Regional Natural Park: Caves, Cliffs, and Remote Plateaus
Heading southwest, I ventured into the Vercors. The limestone cliffs of this plateau are dramatically different from the sharper alpine peaks of Belledonne. I took the Route des Gorges — particularly the Gorges de la Bourne — which may be one of the most thrilling drives I’ve ever done. The road is carved into cliff faces, with sections that seem to hang in midair. It’s narrow, twisting, and every corner opens up to views of deep gorges and forested ravines.
I stayed overnight in a small stone inn in Pont-en-Royans, a village famous for its colorful houses that jut out over the river. The next morning, I visited the Choranche Caves. Inside, delicate soda-straw stalactites hang from the ceiling like an alien forest, and green pools shimmer in the filtered light. A guide explained the underground rivers that have carved these spaces over millennia. The coolness of the cave was a refreshing contrast to the heat outside.
Later, I drove up onto the Vercors plateau. The air grew cooler and wilder, and I barely saw another car for hours. The road ran through high pastures where sheep grazed, and marmots scurried across the gravel. I hiked part of the Sentier du Pas de l’Âne, which offers a panoramic view over the Combe Laval, a massive natural cirque. The silence here felt absolute — only the occasional gust of wind and the sound of my own steps on the trail.
6. Lac du Monteynard: Windsurfers and Himalayan Bridges
To the south of Grenoble, I found a gem that seemed oddly under the radar — Lac du Monteynard. It’s an artificial lake known for strong winds that attract windsurfers and kiteboarders, but what drew me there were the footbridges.
Two suspension bridges, Passerelle du Drac and Passerelle de l’Ebron, hang high above the turquoise waters, connecting hiking trails that run along the cliffs. Walking across them is both exhilarating and slightly nerve-wracking — the bridges sway gently with each step, and the lake yawns below in every direction. I did the full circuit hike, which took about four hours round trip, including long pauses just to stare out over the water. The landscape reminded me of Canada or Norway more than southern France.
7. La Grave and the Écrins: Glaciers and High Alpine Roads
One of the most ambitious drives I did was to La Grave, a tiny village perched under the mighty La Meije in the Écrins National Park. The road there, particularly the D1091, climbs high and twists through gorges and tunnels. The scenery grows more dramatic with every kilometer — waterfalls tumble beside the road, and snow-capped peaks loom ever closer.
La Grave itself felt like a place caught in time. Stone houses cling to the hillside, and the silence is broken only by cowbells and the distant roar of meltwater streams. I took the cable car up to the Girose Glacier. The view from the top platform is staggering — glaciers winding through the peaks, and endless layers of mountains fading into the distance. Even in July, it was cold up there, and I was glad I had packed a thermal layer.
I hiked partway down on foot, zigzagging through rocky paths and patches of snow. I met a pair of climbers who had just descended from a multi-day route on La Meije — they looked exhausted but glowing with that mountaineer’s high. Back in the village, I had a steaming plate of tartiflette at a small inn, eating by the fireplace even though it was summer.
8. Back to Grenoble: City and Surroundings
After a week on the road, I returned to Grenoble for a couple of slower days. I rode the Bastille cable car up the hill just north of the city — the spherical cabins, nicknamed “les bulles,” offered sweeping views of the rooftops and rivers below. At the top, I wandered the old fortress and watched paragliders launching into the thermals.
There’s something magnetic about Grenoble’s location. Wherever I walked in the city, mountains were always there in the background, changing color with the time of day. Cafés spill out onto narrow streets, and students sit with books along the riverbanks. One afternoon, I took a short drive out to Lac de Laffrey, a calm lake with grassy shores, perfect for a swim and a nap under the trees.
The local markets made it easy to eat well without planning — strawberries so ripe they almost melted in the mouth, cheeses in every shape and smell, fresh bread, and little pots of honey from alpine hives. I ended most evenings with a slow walk along the river, tired from the day’s adventure but full from everything I’d seen and eaten.
9. Practical Notes for Fellow Travelers
- Most mountain roads are paved and in good condition, but they’re often narrow. Be ready to yield to oncoming cars, and check weather conditions before heading out.
- Bring layers, even in summer. High elevations can be chilly, and weather can shift fast in the Alps.
- Gas stations become sparse in remote areas, so it’s worth topping up the tank when you can.
- Many hiking trails are well-marked, but a GPS or offline map app helps a lot, especially if fog rolls in.
- In smaller villages and rural areas, English isn’t always spoken. A few polite French phrases go a long way.
- Parking is usually free near trailheads but can fill up fast. Early mornings offer better light and quieter paths anyway.
There are still dozens of valleys and peaks I didn’t get to explore — but every road I took around Grenoble felt like the start of something new.
