What direction to take today... Sportive? Meditative? Lazy?
I choose immersive. Or maybe it's than in retrospect, this is what the day turned out to deliver. Total immersion in what is all around me.
First, the morning, looking out my southwest window. This time you get the full view, not just the mountains.
And breakfast: I tweaked it somewhat. Okay, not a lot. And I sit far away from distractions of the type I mentioned on the first two mornings here.
I had several alternative scenarios for the day. One possibility: rent cross country skis and try their trails. True, they can't be great in this weather. Still, I'd gone into a ski shop (now there's objectivity for you!) and they tell me it's all skiable. Or here's another: I could take the train (actually two trains because you have to switch at the border) to Martigny, which is a very short ride away. It's in Switzerland and so I could get a feel for a Swiss town that is not Geneva. Or, I could do nothing and take meditative moments in pretty settings throughout the day.
In the end, I choose none of those.
Instead, I look at the train schedule, note that there is a train to Montroc in ten minutes (!!) and dash out the door to catch it.
Lucky break for me -- the walk from my hotel to the station is only 6 minutes if you hustle.
(the train station, at the end of this road)
Why Montroc? Teresa suggested that I focus my walks from that particular spot. Go left, and you have a lovely trail up to a mountain meadow, past a village of chalets. Go right and you can pick up the path along the stream to Le Tour, the next hamlet up. Sounds good. I have this great desire to walk in a quiet mountain setting.
The train ride is a smudge upwards of 20 mins and it is lovely!
(out the train window)
It very much reminds me of my first ever trip to Switzerland, when I was a mere 19 year old, traveling to Zermatt with a group of American college students who were part of a ski club I ostensible had helped organize. You can't get to Zermatt (a ski resort in Switzerland) by car. You have to take a little train. And we did. And this is so unusual -- we all started singing. This is the only time that I heard American kids break into song. Ever. (Polish kids did it all the time.) To this day I remember the song:
Teach your children well
Their father's hell did slowly go by
And feed them on your dreams
The one they pick's the one you'll know by
Dont you ever ask them "why?"
If they told you would cry
So just look at them and sigh
And know they love you...
(Crosby, Still, Nash and Young)
I get off at Montroc. I'm the only one who gets off at Montroc. There is no skiing in Montroc.
I turn toward my woodsy trail to Tre le Champ. And again I am so glad I have my cleats!
This is my most meditative moment for the day. I think about where my sore spots have sprouted and where I have to let go of more. And I think about the mountains and what they offer, for all of us.
The walk is lovely. I wish I had continued it. But, I wasn't sure how long the next one would be, so once I reached the meadow, I turned back...
And picked up the sign for the path to Le Tour.
(along the river)
Le Tour is a village, mostly made up of chalets and condos for skiers. It's also the base for skiers: from here, you can take a lift up to a large number of skiing options. Why would I head here? Well, the walk to it is pretty. (I encountered one other small group of French walkers, Soooo overdressed for the weather!)
And Teresa told me that the small restaurant right by the lift up to the skiing is actually very good. But it is tiny and you cant count on getting a place. My hotel, however, whom I charged with trying to book me a lunch spot, was successful. So, lunch will be at Le Passon, in Le Tour.
All this seemed pretty easy and the hike seemed almost too straightforward, until the path dead-ened on me. Well, no matter, I'll just cut across the snowfield to those houses up above and I'll be there!
Never cut across a snowfield on a warmer winter day, especially not one where if you stick your walking stick into the snow, you'll find that most of it is submerged. Because even on warm days, in some places, the snow can be very deep!
I did manage to get across it. I am here to tell the tale after all! But sinking into deep snow is no way to do a hike.
I get to Le Tour by noon. That gives me an hour or so before my lunch reservation. I buy a round trip ticket for the telecabine -- the small gondola that goes up to the ski area. One round trip ticket even for a senior, is beastly expensive! Still, I get on board with the usual bunch of skiers and snowboarders. I had done this in Morzine so I knew the ropes. At the high station (Charamillon) I get off and take in my surroundings. (The telecabine lift you'll see is to the right.)
(back to selfies!)
I am, of course, surrounded by skiers. And I don't mind. I wont find walking trails here and indeed, I need to stay very near the edge of their slope because not everyone is in full control of their skiing. But you know, I kind of like being up here. It isn't quite the Disneyland craziness that I'd found in other ski areas. It's just a bunch of people -- French families, because it's their school winter break, English families, because despite Brexit, they're everywhere in France, Finnish families, I'm sure Americans too.
I know some people just love this sport. I have a friend in Poland who suffered a real tragedy in life and she told me the only thing that brings her real peace is skiing. So she skis. And she is thrilled because her granddaughter now skis as well. So I get that love of a controlled slide down an incline.
But I wont participate any more. I'll just watch. Especially in places like this one, with plenty of kids and dogs and people, doing their up and down thing on the slopes of these high mountains.
(Putting on his skis to ski with his... dog?!)
(wait, more dogs??)
(This toddler prefers to drag her skis behind. Whatever works...)
(Kids in a ski school, breaking for lunch)
(others, just enjoying a pause in skiing...)
(to take on this view...)
(Here's a couple that found love in Chamonix. It's barely noon and they're on their second Aperol Spritz? And they'll ski after all that?)
I stay up there for a while, and then I take the gondola thing back, and walk over for lunch at Le Passon.
This is a delicious place. I cannot resist their rosti (I choose the cheesy one with, guess what -- chanterelles!). I used to make rosti all the time way back when. You know the dish? It's potatoes, prepared in a Swiss style. Here's one image of it. And here's my crusty, cheesy dish:
And there's a bonus: they have a homemade blueberry tart. The pair of French friends to my side praised it no end. Me, I would have been happy even with a less perfect version. Blueberries and the Alps. Such a stellar combination!
In the end, I rush the finish of my lunch because I want to catch the bus back to Chamonix and it's about to leave. Teresa told me that this will be its first stop and so I will be sure to get a seat, and I do get a seat, but it is crowded! I am, of course, the only one with a mask on!
The bus ride takes a good half hour because it stops in a lot of what I would call condo neighborhoods and resort hotels in the valley. Skiers get on and off (just about everyone on the bus is with skis), the bus winds this way and that way, and finally we are in Chamonix.
Sure, I preferred the train. Still, the train runs every hour, the bus runs every 15 minutes. And both are free to anyone staying in a hotel in the Chamonix Valley. This gets people out of their cars alright! And that is such a good thing! Here we are, during the French school holidays, at the height of the winter season and there is hardly any traffic on the roads connecting these villages and resorts. Remarkable. One could learn from their success in keeping the pollution in the valley at bay.
Back at the hotel, I go swimming. Outside.
I've been wanting to do this -- it's a perk from staying at the Mont Blanc: there is an outdoor pool that is open year-round.
At first I thought I'd be too cold. They'd had to take down the temp a few degrees (its at 28C, or 82F) because the EU set rules for winter swimming. But in fact, it was only cold when I got out to set the camera on a timer!
Immersion indeed!
The afternoon ends with someone kneading my back (another perk of staying here), and with me then catching up with news from back home.
Dinner? Well, I pushed back at the hotel selections. It's not that they haven't been good, but except for my first night at the hotel restaurant (the irony of that!), they felt too crowded and touristy. Now, I understand that nearly everyone eating in Chamonix right now is... a tourist. But what I didn't want was yet another place that had everyone's touristy dream realized: Savoyard decorations and dishes, along with others to be sure, but still, menus mostly geared to those who had images of what food here should be like.
The hotel (as usual) delivered! They sent me to a small place with a small menu of French cooking and yes, with local inspirations and ingredients, but without the usual plates that lure those who really just want to see the stuff associated with Savoie. Or Switzerland. Or both.
I had a very delicious pumpkin soup, followed by an incredible veal with mushrooms and veggies.
(The waitress was from Sweden: here to ski all winter and to work in the evenings. This is not the first time that I've come across people from other countries, working here to pay for their skiing. When you're hooked, you're hooked!)
For dessert? Ice cream with chestnut puree and bits of meringue. Very yummy. If I ever come back to Chamonix, Panier des 4 Saisons will be on my list of places to reserve for dinner.
Clouds in the sky tonight. But not for long I hear. Skiers are groaning, but I'm not: we are slated to have another beautiful, sun-filled day tomorrow.
I am so very grateful.
