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Memories of the Route Napoléon
Words by Andrea Balti / Photo by Ilario Villani
Every day, for the most varied reasons, all of us travel along a road. Each one has a starting point and quite logically a destination. Those of us who are passionate about driving like to point out that the real magic is actually found in between, in that stretch that connects two dots on a map and often represents the true experience of the journey itself. There are roads that take on a special value, as well as those that are worth the so-called “ticket of the journey,” meaning they justify setting off from a distant place for the sole purpose of driving. Exactly: driving. And nothing else. After all, what more do we need to drag ourselves out of bed well before dawn?
With winter now at the door and a cold autumn that has abruptly put an end to our traditional Alpine climbs, I find myself sitting at my desk in complete solitude. My colleagues have already gone home and I take advantage of a few hours of silence and calm to wrap up the last bits of unfinished work. Then my eyes rest on a photograph hanging on the wall and my mind immediately goes back to the first time I was lucky enough to drive the Route Napoléon, one of the most iconic stretches of asphalt, alongside the Stelvio Pass and the Transfăgărășan.
In this case, we are not really talking about a destination at all, because the route — also known as N85 — is over 330 kilometers long, making it easy to understand how this is truly a journey rather than a simple point of arrival. The Route owes its name to the path taken by Napoleon Bonaparte in 1815, when, fleeing from the Elba island, marched toward Paris to reclaim power. An episode that went down in history as “The Hundred Days.” Today, setting aside the fact that by car it is perfectly possible to drive from Grenoble to Cannes (or vice versa) in just a few hours, having driven it many times has allowed me to identify the best and most scenic sections.
Traveling along the Route Napoléon offers a remarkable variety of landscapes, alternating more open roads with long straights that tempt you to sacrifice your driver’s license and balcony roads that heighten the experience as rocky cliffs are pierced by thin ribbons of asphalt, mostly in more than good condition. The Route must be savored, but the added value it revealed to me is something few other places have offered: an intimate relationship that develops with small villages unknown to any traditional map. Each village tells its own story through colors and old shop signs, sometimes almost completely worn away by time. Yet this is not neglect, but rather respect for a tradition that wants and needs to continue surviving.
There is no doubt that the best advice is to start from Grenoble, immediately tuning into the smaller villages and saving the most winding section for the grand finale. This part allows for countless detours, whether toward the Gorges du Verdon, the Route de Gentelly, or the D6085 descending from Escragnolles, with its final engaging hairpins leading all the way to Grasse, the perfume capital. After just a few of those 330 kilometers, the true meaning of the Route Napoléon becomes clear and having such a wide range of miles at one’s disposal does nothing but allow for a complete immersion in an absolute experience, ready to surprise an enthusiast driver as much as a more traditional traveler. Those colors, those scents. I feel the need to return there, far more than I ever thought possible.
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