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1545. Crossed the French-Italian border, moving into the next country of our grand tour. The country in the province of Savoie is beautiful, sort of like the foothills west of Calgary, but much more heavily treed. (As for the name being the same as my surname, I'm pretty sure there's a crown waiting for me somewhere...) The terrain gradually gets rockier, and you begin to see white topped peaks. The primary language on the train gives way to Italian and, in my mind at least, it seems like people have grown warmer. Saw an ancient pillbox bunker flash by close to the border, its days of use long past. The views from the train are breathtaking as the train climbs the grades... In my opinion, this is the prettiest terrain of the trip thus far. Mountains everywhere you look, tiny little towns clinging to mountainsides and valley floors. Looking forward to setting our feet down in Italia!
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