from Saint Martin de Belleville to Paris

And snow it did! All night long, well into the day. Clouds all around us blanketed the mountains, but still -- it's lovely! 

My daughter was already on her way home by the time Snowdrop and I got up. Breakfast -- our last one here, was different -- just the two of us.

But the girl loves the foods here so much and I settled in to my more gentle morning meal, so we got a good start to the day.

We have a ride to the train station at 11:30. I packed most of our stuff last night -- a delicate balance of putting at the bottom used clothing, keeping near the top Paris necessities. I needed to finish it up, but that took no time at all. Snowdrop was engrossed in a made up story on the computer and so I left her to it and headed out for a short, snowy walk down the hill.

I wanted to get that last view of a snow covered Alpine village -- it's so perfect right now, so dreamy and delicate, without a wind to mess with the canvas all around us. 

 

 

 

At the same time, I want to be mindful of keeping my shoes dry for the trip. So no hiking along forest trails! (Though I did look on with mild envy at this small group who headed out on snowshoes...)

I pop into the souvenir shop -- for a surprise little huskie stuffie for the girl, but really just to have a last glance at this shop, just because it's the only one in town and there's something special about there being just one, this one, with Madame attentively asking, pointing, helping with selections (also throwing in some earring backs for free, because Snowdrop lost hers and raided mine to make up for it!). 

(I love these old-styled cards -- I dont have any need for them, but still, they are as evocative as ours back home that depict New England winters -- the snowy ones I now only dream about back in Wisconsin.)

It's snowing again and for a moment I wish we would have one more day here, but of course, our wheels are spinning now away from the mountains. With my daughter already in Geneva and our own train waiting to take us from Chambery to Paris, we are no longer in a Savoie mindset. 

But I think about these five days and I try to pick them apart, in an attempt to figure out why we loved this place so much (an quite a bit more than Chamonix, or Morzine). Certainly the quietness of the village. The absence of skiers at every corner. The old Savoyard streets, the beautiful forest trails right out the door. The smaller chalet style hotel. 

 

 

 

The success Snowdrop had skiing (Matthieu sent us this photo and many clips of her barreling down the hill..)..

The trip here did have its challenging moments: the ride up to Saint Martin on that foggy evening was terrifying. And the air here is thin enough to make hiking even moderate trails a big challenge. But none of this detracted from our feelings about this place. Snowdrop is dying to come back! And indeed, as I return to the hotel to get us out of the room, she says -- can't I have one more walk? Maybe to the bakery with the lollipops and ice cream? That's a short walk and I want one last look at the village.

Snowdrop!! That should have happened earlier! We have a ride in 15 minutes! 

It wont take more than 15 minutes! 

It always takes longer than you think and especially when there is slushy snow on all the streets and sidewalks. Nevertheless, I can't say no. I want her to have a chance to say good bye, to feel the pleasure of that hilly walk one last time, so that she can take with her that same sweet love for her stay in Saint Martin de Belleville.

And then we're off to Chambery (1 hour and 15 minutes from here). We linger at the news stand for a few minutes (and of course I get sucked into picking up some chocolate covered marshmallow bears because Snowdrop firmly believes that these are the quintessential French candy) and then the train rolls in and we make our way to the track...

("dont pause to take a picture now!!")

 

And three hours later, after speeding north at 300 km/hr,  we are in Paris.

Paris. Each time I come here, I have a mindset, a focus. When I'm here with the grandkids, nearly everything I do here is with them in mind. This short stay, a January one, which can be very dicey and wet, is no different. 

We cab over to the Baume Hotel. My safe haven. A place that does not know how to disappoint! And in the one room, the same one each time, a room that always feels so much like home.

 

Yes, there's supposed to be rain tonight, and there'll be rain tomorrow. I went over museum choices with the girl -- she picked one, we'll go there when it rains. Most certainly we'll go to the park the next day. But honestly, we're here because Paris offers that needed balance to the trip. It can't just be about Saint Martin de Belleville. Much of France would often like to ignore Paris, but it needs it as much as my morning croissant needs its milky coffee. Perhaps then this is a reminder: we are in a different country and at its center, there is Paris to reckon with.

Tonight though we do very little "reckoning." It's rather late. She's tired. I let her stay with her tablet as I unpack. 

 Just before the dinner hour, I push for a short walk. Here's an easy one that always gets her excited -- to Muji -- a Japanese chain store that has the best supply of tiny little notebooks, coveted by little ones who like to draw/write while waiting for dinner.

And to a neighborhood pastry store to stack up on macarons -- a much better dessert idea than going for a restaurant sweet dish.

(walking our neighborhood's streets...)

Dinner tonight is at Agata -- my most recent favorite nearby pizza place. She devours the fried calamari...

And we both do great justice to our pizzas.

She is in a far better mood afterwards. 

I have grown to expect good moods from Snowdrop when we travel. She is always so enthusiastic and grateful that I forget that some things may be taxing for her. She lost her water bottle en route today and she was disproportionately devastated by it. Later, she told me that she was so mad at herself for being careless. And by the way, she tells me -- she misses our mountain days. I never assume that she needs to adjust to anything, because she always just goes along with the next adventure and the one that follows. This girl loves Paris with a passion and I have no doubt she'll transition quickly, but there is in Snowdrop this momentary pause, where she doesn't want to let go just yet.  One enthusiastic foot in Paris...

 

 

 

... the other? Still stuck in the snows of Saint Martin de Belleville.

With love...

Saint Martin de Belleville 5

Snow at night turns to rain after midnight. All day today, we are to have rain showers. By night, they will change to snow again. Heavy snow. Causing slowdowns for sure. Tomorrow. With even more snow. The day we are to leave. 

But anticipating weather in the mountains is a fool's errand. You just don't know how much, of what, when, and with what consequences. I wasn't surprised to see that snow last night, and I am certainly not surprised that it warmed up, and that some of the snow cover is diminished in the valley. Looking outside at our wake up time, I see this:

 

Who knows what the next 24 hours will bring.

This day is supposed to be slightly different. We did not plan on skiing (and that's a good thing, considering the possibility of heavy rains). We had only one activity and I scheduled it many months ago because it's otherwise impossible to get a slot for it: dog sledding. But can you even do this in the rain? And would you want to?

Those are the questions in my head as we go down to breakfast. 

 

 

 

One of us (me!) is super not hungry. And yet...

My daughter joins us, we linger. Snowdrop entertains us!

 

 

We make some changes to our plans - giving up on a dinner out tonight (eating in the hotel will keep us dry!), reviewing the morning possibilities. How about another try at the museum?

Snowdrop and I head out. Down the hill. Staying dry so far!

The museum is small of course. It traces village life from about 150 years ago to more recent times, when Saint Martin opened up just a few ski lifts and trails. We looked over the farming implements from those earlier days and watched a movie on hay gathering -- the old way.

 

Not much of it is new to a person coming from Wisconsin, where dairy farming was (and is) a way of life for so many. Still, it's interesting to track the transformations in the village. The attempts to rein in winter sports here now, so that Saint Martin never will become just a ski destination.

The museum visit doesn't take long, but then we don't have much time, because we want to eat lunch before the dog sledding expedition (should there even be a dog sledding expedition). We go up the hill again and then turn around, this time the three of us, heading back down to Le Montagnard -- the place we ate lunch yesterday. It's colder now and of course, there is the occasional drizzle.  It's definitely not an "eat outside" day!

In we go. We're at the point where we know what we want: lentils in Alpine pesto (for me), fried fish (for the girl), some cheesy-melty thing for my daughter.

 

And now we have to figure out if our dog sled adventure is going to go forward. Back up the hill to the hotel, a check of emails, messaging -- no mention of cancellations. And I have to say, the rain has really eased to a very light drizzle. If that. 

Off we go! 

You have to walk some twenty minutes to the meetup point. This is the same path that looked so pretty yesterday. The mixed weather did a number on the fresh snow cover!

Still, we persevere. And we are rewarded for it! The dogs arrive promptly at 2 and they are full of energy. Their trainer spent a few minutes explaining their work, their breed (there are huskies and he tells us that people really love these guys for their looks, but there are even better sled dogs than huskies -- his own teams have a mix of breeds that work well together). But don't pause for pictures now. These guys are really anxious to get going!

I get in one sled with Snowdrop, my daughter takes the second one.

And we're off!

If you are in the sled, you cant take great photos. But we do pause at the turn-around point, and this is a remarkable moment because the weather momentarily improves. No precipitation at all. Just the beautiful mountain scape before us. I hand over the camera to the dog trainer.

Wait -- you can see the girl in that? Let's do a close up:

The dogs are well trained, but they are antsy to go. We're off again!

And now there is time to say a big thanks -- to these remarkable animals who love nothing more than to run with a sled.

We walk back full of gratitude. The rains held off, the dogs were terrific, and as we approached our hotel, a winter rainbow pokes through for us.

And this really brings our stay at Saint Martin de Belleville to a close. The rains (soon to change into heavy snow) do come down this evening and that's just fine, as we have packing to do. My daughter will be returning home tomorrow, to the boys, to her work. Snowdrop and I will take the train to Paris, just for a couple of days there before heading home. 

One last meal together -- dinner, at the hotel, just like on our first night here!

 

And then we say good bye. Snowdrop's mom is leaving very early in the morning. Cross your fingers on that snowstorm, for her, and for us too -- for our own trip to the train station in Chambery. I'll surely let you know how that all turns out! For now, one last good night from Saint Martin de Belleville.

(Just me and the girl, forging ahead...)

 

with so much love...

Saint Martin de Belleville 4

Magic. There's no other word for it: what happened in the mountains overnight was pure magic and we wake up awed by it.

(predawn light)

I don't know how many inches of snow fell last night. Enough to bury your short boot -- Snowdrop will tell you. Enough to cover the landscape with something that you rarely see if you dont live in the mountains: every house, every tree branch carrying a fluff of white diamonds. Because there's sunshine too. 

How could we be so lucky to have a day like this!

Breakfast first, of course. By now we know what we like. 

(view out the dining room window)

And then we are to split up. Snowdrop and her mom are to stay back and read or rest. Me, I want that walk in the forest. To see it, smell it, feel the humility that is always mine when I walk beneath the sheltering branches. And as I get ready to head out Snowdrop changes her mind: I want to come! -- she tells me.

I smile at that. If you come, it's magic times three over -- I say to her. Because of course, a walk in the forest is going to be grand. To share it with her? That's just awesome.

And it just gets better and better.

True, her boots are too short and snow packs into them pretty quickly. I give her my stick and use cleats on my own boots, but we're really not equipped for a big snow walk. I don't care.

 

I just cant stop marveling at the beauty of it.

A tiny gust of wind and a million sparkles fly off the branches. I try for a timed release. Misfocused, but charming nonetheless!

How could you not be awed by the world right now!

We pass several hikers. French people out with their dogs. A cross country skier. A couple chatting, with big grins on their faces.

Eventually she is totally drenched with snow and I've had my time of rapture. This is the snow I've missed so much back home. This is how it's supposed to be. This is what I love best about winter!

And we were given this gift of magic and I am so totally grateful.

Lunch again at noon. The three of us head down the hill. 

 

 

 

 

 

We're thinking pizza, but the place is closed. What's this? The Montagnard -- our Friday dinner place is serving lunch? With tables outside in the sunshine? We sprint to get a table. It comes with a hat for the sun, a blanket for the lap and... a bear.

It's slightly colder than the previous days and a few clouds do start to roll in, but still, there's plenty of warmth all around us.

And then it's time for Snowdrop to ski. There's a bit of discussion as to how much she should push herself. She did the big mountain yesterday. She wants to hang back on the easier trails today. I dont know how they will resolve it and I dont know what the proper strategy should be. I stick around only for her first run down the easy slope.

And then I leave them to it, because I have a scheduled back rub this afternoon. To let loose those muscles tensed by, well, life, the fall, the news, the worries of everyday.

[I ask her when she returns -- how was it? Amazing! I want to come back, here, and ski with Matthieu! Did he let you stay on the begginer's slope? No: he said either gondola or t-bar. I chose t-bar. It was steep and I went down all by myself! This is what mastering the difficult feels like...]

In the evening we set out for L'Etoile des Neiges. How appropriate -- "the star of the snows." 

(ready to go!)

 

 

It's the closest of the restaurants. Just down the hill a handful of minutes.

 

 

And it is very lovely. With food that would have an ambitious skier feel satiated. Cheese, so much good cheese! Cream, delicious concoctions with potatoes, wild mushrooms, salamis and meats (which I have to quickly push to the side or else!)... 

 

 

... and even the wild blueberries, smothered in more cream and bits of meringue -- all of it artfully and tastefully prepared.

We stumble home!

There's absolutely nothing good about the weather forecast for tomorrow. But how could you complain! We've had one day of perfection, followed by the next, followed by better yet. 

We are happy.

with love...