The very nice man at the hotel lights the fire in the living room space for us. I have the rest of my third cappuccino. A fresh coat of snow covered the streets overnight. We are are staying put this morning.
Many would think that this is a waste of time and place. There is so much to do here! So much to discover! Hikes. Trails. Cable cars whizzing you up to summits. Remote villages with old chalets. Maybe a spotting of the Alpine chamois. And yet, here we are.
If you needed to hear our excuse it would be this: the girl had her famous 24 hour travel bug -- this very healthy child who is never sick at home, often gets zapped with something -- strong but quick -- when we travel. What she needs then is a 24 hour grace period where she just rests. So we're at the tail end of that rest. But, too, if you were to ask my daughter, for example, what her idea of a perfect getaway would be, one that is Alpine focused, she'd say instantly -- a cozy space to do some reading. We are thus checking off several necessities with our time by the fire.
Did I tell you? It's snowing outside. Had we this kind of weather throughout, we would have never seen the Mont Blanc summit. Or any summit. Here's the view from our window this morning (and it only gets cloudier as the day progresses):
Yes, we had a breakfast. The girl's appetite is returning. Mine never left.
But, the morning definitely belongs to the fireplace. Books. A tablet. And the sound of French voices in the background.
At 11:45 the three of us set out for Casa Valerio for lunch.
That is a touch early, but we have an afternoon schedule to keep. I've not tried this place yet, but it really is exactly what we need -- the girl loves pizza and right now our focus is on charging her appetite to its full potential. (We find the place to be lovely! Overlooking the rushing River Arve.)
At 1:15, I take her down to the lobby, where someone is waiting to give us a lift to the slopes.
(All ready! The ski gear is rented, but the goggles are her own. A Christmas present from gogs!)
Snowdrop has never tried downhill skiing (and her cross country experience too has been rather thin). I had never thought about exposing her to this sport. I mean, I'm not one to get her hooked on something that I do regard as a bit dangerous and certainly expensive. I speak from a lifetime of flirting with skiing -- intensely at the beginning. So in planning an Alpine adventure I never once considered putting her on skis.
But both the girl and her mom pushed back. Isn't this a great opportunity to see if she would like it?
In fact, I don't think of Chamonix as being a novice skier's paradise. It's not a place where you ski in and out, from your chalet door up the lift and back again. You have to make an effort to get to a ski hill. Not a great effort, but still, an effort. Nonetheless, I corresponded with my wonderful hotel staff and they assured me that a lesson or two could be booked, skis would be delivered for her, and we could have a wonderful few hours of skiing.
I decided I would pass on joining her in this. I don't really want to get excited by this sport again. I don't want to twist my knee, strain my back, spend the money on me doing something that frankly is no longer good for me. I say all this to Thomas, her very French, very sage, very knowledgeable ski instructor. He laughs: my grandma stopped when she was 81, and it was only because of the danger of others bumping into her! Well yes, my feelings exactly, even if I'm not yet 81. The sport is fast now -- the boards are way speedier than they were some decades ago and there are too many inexperienced skiers flying down on them. Still, I have to say, watching Snowdrop move down a gentle slope tempts me. At least theoretically.
(walking toward the rope lift)
(first downhill run)
I don't stay for the whole lesson. The walk back to the hotel isn't too bad.
I wait for her by the hotel fireplace.
So... did she like it? On balance, yes, very much, even if there was an accident somewhere in the middle, on the t-bar, that gave her a fat lip. I hear there was blood, but no teeth were knocked out! She almost gave up then, but somehow found the will to continue til the end.
I walk back to the ski area and meet Snowdrop and Thomas in the parking lot. He's happy to drive us home.
In the car, we chat a little about his experience as a ski instructor. He's been at it since he was 17, so for a quarter of a century now. He's seen it all! Some people, they just haven't the body balance and it is so hard for them to learn. But Snowdrop is quite sportive. Ah, the biggest compliments, coming from a French person -- that your child is sage and sportif. In fact, he suggests something more for her second lesson on Wednesday: that we go up at Les Houches, to the ski area there. Oh, what a fabulous idea! I had watched children learn up there. They have a carpet for the super beginners, though Thomas assured her that she could also do the chairlift with him. All we need is good weather which, unfortunately does not look promising for that day as of right now. We can cross our fingers, but also understand that weather in the mountains is unpredictable and we have been lucky thus far -- we've had a good run of it all the days we've been here.
Dinner: we eat at the Panier de 4 Saison. It's a small place, one that draws people who want a bit of a pause in the traditional Savoyard fare. Even though, as my daughter will attest, here, too, you will find something with melted cheese!
We hadn't done a threesome selfie yet. There is a shelf... up goes the camera. Count to ten. Click!
with love...
