Chamonix

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...

Chamonix

We're getting better at sleep! Still not at the optimal levels but at least two out of three are now sleeping through the night.

Sunday in Chamonix. Notable for us for any number of reasons. But first, I have to say, I think Snowdrop has a bit of a bug. She hasn't her usual spunk and appetite and though she is in fine spirits, I can see that this will be the day to go slow.

I look outside. A week ago, I read that this day would be cloudy. Then, closer to our arrival, I see that there may be sunshine in the morning. As of yesterday, we're back to hearing about clouds with the possibility of snow. So which is it? I look outside our window at the Aiguille du Midi peak (it's the one to the left).

 

 

Lookin' pretty good! The weather in the mountains is so unpredictable! 

We meet up with my daughter for breakfast. The girl just wants fruits today. A nibble here, a nibble there.

 

 

 

 So, there's definitely a need to rest up some, but not right away. For this morning, I bought tickets for the cable car ride up to Aiguille du Midi. This is a big deal: you can reach the very summit, which stands at 3842m (or 12 605 ft) high. The cable car ride is thus the highest in the world. (You have to bundle up for this -- it's cold up there!)

This unique cable car opened 60 years ago and I had actually done this trip now nearly 50 years ago. I remember feeling really dizzy because of the altitude, though perhaps this is all in my memory box and the reality played out in a more gentle fashion. Nevertheless, it is no secret that I hate heights and I would likely not care for the newest attraction up there -- a step "into the void!" It's a glassed-in from all sides box where you can stand and look up, down and all around. Since it's enclosed, I'd probably be okay in it, but honestly, the whole trip is just enough not my favorite that I send my daughter and granddaughter up without me. Have fun, girls!

(Later, my daughter texts me a photo from The Void!)

(From this summit, you have the best possible view of Mont Blanc.)

So what do I do with my morning? Well, there's a gentler cable car ride up another mountain (called Brevent), one that faces the Mont Blanc range. Mont Blanc itself is now beginning to hide under a cloud, but still, the views promise to be good and importantly, the telepherique (cable car) is a five minute walk from our hotel. Easy stuff.

To get to the Brevent summit, you take the first smaller cable car to a level of 2000m, then a second larger one to the summit at 2525m (8284 ft). Funny that I can handle that without issue! The body and mind are a strange mix of physical prowess and mental manipulation.

People mostly come up to Mont Brevant to ski, so I am in a cable car with many boards and clunky boots. The larger car has a local operator who makes sure you survive the ride (just kidding) and who opens and closes the door of the car. When we file out, he wishes us a good day and a great ski down and the crowd of some 30 skiers and me respond with a loud "merci!"  And then they disappear round the bend.

And  the views? Pretty good, though I'm sure my girls had a better up close and personal with Mont Blanc itself. Here are my contributions:

(looking at the sharp Aiguille peak: that's where my girls are right now!)

(Mont Blanc is the seemingly gentle one -- with the light cloud cover over it)

(Mont Blanc, Aiguille du Midi, and... me)

Mommy and daughter are back in the early afternoon. Now is the time for us to go to lunch. 

Since it's a Sunday, I booked this meal as well -- at Josephine, which is a really busy, really typical place that you could find here or on the streets of any French city.

From here it's a short walk to a ski store. To look. To measure. To rent. Not for me. Not for my daughter.

In the afternoon, we all rest a bit. I had booked one back kneading session for me and one for my daughter and today it's my turn, so as they rest, I close my eyes and allow expert hands to work out all the knots that accumulate so easily in your back, your shoulders, your neck.

And pretty quickly it's time to go to dinner. Except that no one is hungry and the girl is really fighting a bug, so we cancel our restaurant reservation and eat a few odds and ends from the kitchen downstairs in our room upstairs.

After "dinner" we are done! Snowdrop really needs to rest up! Let's hope that tomorrow she'll have totally bounced back. I have to think though that even in these short few days, the girl has seen and digested a lot of mountain culture. And that's a good thing!

with love...

to Chamonix

On this first morning and only night in Switzerland, sleep is still elusive. And wouldn't you know it -- by the time I'm finally psyched for dozing off, Snowdrop, who shares a room and a large bed with me, is up with that typical first night in Europe wakefulness. After a few feeble attempts to get her back to sleep I decide it's better to talk a little, read some and then try again later. We discuss life's most perplexing issues, she gratefully takes the book I brought for her and eventually, by maybe 6 am she is out again and I finally zonk out as well. For an hour or two. We have to get up and get going: we're meeting my daughter for breakfast at 9:15. Ha! We get there first! The little girl is hungry and she just adores the Swiss meal of breads, bacon, dried beef, fruits and yogurt. And hot milky chocolate!

Good morning!

Our ride to Chamonix will pick ups up at 11:30 and so we have time to take a short walk. To the lake! (Where these two are amused by the poster ad for walruses...

It's hazy and chilly outside, but the Geneva fountain is spectacular! It shoots water up 140 meters but they do shut it down when the weather dips below freezing. We're just at that cut off point!

We do have one errand: one of us needs a bag, since a current one is so tightly zipped that I doubt it'll last the journey back. In this shop, Snowdrop is being sold on a bag of her own. I tell her I have one of these and it has lasted for decades of travel.

Lookin' good!

And now we finally turn our attention to Chamonix. The drive there is quick enough -- one hour. And as the car climbs in elevation, the clouds recede and the mountains are suddenly right before us.

Chamonix today is having the kind of weather it was once known for -- January cold, with snow showers expected every few days. Of course, their January cold never came close to Wisconsin's legendary Arctic blasts (Chamonix deep freeze this Monday night will hit 11F/-11.5C. Madison's deep freeze that same day will tumble down to -11F/-24C).

As we approach the town, we see that lovely lace of white ice crystals on the trees.  The day in the Chamonix valley could not be more beautiful!

Finally, we're at our hotel -- same one as last year's: the Mont Blanc. With the outdoor swimming pool that is open for business year-round. Snowdrop is delighted by it!

The rooms aren't ready yet and in any case, we need a lunch. I opt for the boisterous Pont du Rose. (It's that very pink building in the photo below.) I actually haven't eaten there at all, because it seemed too impersonal and crowded for a solo dinner, but with the two of them here now, it seems really perfect for a solid lunch. (I have an egg on brioche with cheese sauce and mushrooms, my daughter has cheesey gnocchi, and my grandgirl wants her good old pasta with Parmesan. Italy is just on the other side of these mountains, so you could forgive her for wanting Parmesan over, say a Savoie Reblechon or Tomme de Savoie.)

It is not possible for me to even imagine travel to this mountainous region of France without at least throwing a glance at and putting up a photo of a wild blueberry tart.

I show restraint: we walk over to the Chalet 8412 Pastry shop/cafe and I order the small version of the above.

We poke around the Chamonix main drag -- an activity very much enjoyed by Snowdrop as she wants to get good souvenirs for those back home. And eventually we make our way back to the hotel. Our rooms are ready for check-in!

(I did not book the room with the view toward Mont Blanc for Snowdrop and me. I felt the one with the views toward the Aiguille du Midi peaks (less expensive!) would suffice and too, they have more space for play.

But we don't linger in the rooms. We don't even unpack. The two younger ones want to go swimming.

... followed by a soak in the tub. All outside, in below freezing weather.

Shower, rest, unpack, talk to those back home and the afternoon flies! Would you believe it -- it's time to walk down to town for dinner. 

 (Our room is on the American 6th floor, but we always use the stairs. At least on the exit!)

I prebooked all our evening meals and it's a good thing, because all these places fill up every day in the winter season. Today's choice is La Caleche. It's one of the more Alpine-styled eating choices and I figured it would be a good jump off point into French Savoie foods.

In the end, to appease all palates, we order fondue again, this time made with Savoie regional cheeses and accompanied by a Savoyard charcuterie tray. And we add to it a plate of scallops with mushrooms. Where's the ocean, you ask. Well, a "few" kilometers away. But the mushrooms are local and we are all happy to share our foods so that everyone gets a little of this and a lot of that.

In the dining room, on one side, we have a couple from France, on the other -- well, a table of Russian women. Sigh... What can I say...

So ends our first day in Chamonix. Fabulous weather, wonderful arrival. We will plunge into our adventures full steam tomorrow. In the meantime, here's to a night of good sleep!

with love...

to Geneva

Long after we'd arrived at the airport in Chicago yesterday, boarding passes in hand, TSA cleared, I kept scrolling to look at the weather app. I'd been "oh no-ing" it for so long now! That we came out fine is still a bit of a miracle. We left the storm behind us, but we came so close to having it wreck our week. And yes, it was a wrecking ball for many, in far graver circumstances than a mere cancelling of a trip. I know that. Still, I wanted to save this excursion for sure! Daughter travel is rare. Granddaughter travel will also turn rare soon enough.

After all that worry, once in flight, everything moved smoothly. A little late here and there, but nothing that cost us a connection. Still, I couldn't sleep. When you get wound up, it takes a while to let out that coil of nerves. 

In Paris, we walked over (did not need to run!) to our gate and very soon after, we were in flight to Geneva.

Geneva. I never write anything great about the city, because I've never fallen in love with the place. It has always been a stopover. To the mountains, from the mountains. The city is actually rather pretty. The lake is fabulous and on good weather days you can see the Alpine peaks to the south. The old town is attractive (the Swiss "neutrality" during the war surely helped preserve its architecture). And it's very cosmopolitan. All those international organizations that base their headquarters here ensure a diverse crowd of visitors.

And yet. To me it feels serious and staid. Attractive, but not a place I'd like to intentionally explore for more than a day or two. 

Nonetheless, to Snowdrop, it's an entirely new experience. If asked, she'll say Switzerland reminds her of milk chocolate (she got that one right!). And she has been hearing a lot about melted cheese. On potatoes, in fondue pots, seemingly everywhere. Geneva preserves that Swiss Alpine food culture.

(landing in Geneva is always fabulous; here, the Alpine peaks float on top of puffy clouds)

 

We cab over to the hotel -- which is smack in the center of the old town. Les Armures. I'd never stayed there before and in more active seasons, this would be out of my price range, but the last minute prices were sensible, so I booked two rooms. Cheaper than spending an extra night in Chamonix, which right now is entering its peak season.

Lunch is right adjacent to the hotel. The restaurant of Les Armures has actually been well loved for a long time. People say it's Geneva's oldest cafe. Can I say it -- it is really, really Swiss in appearance and in food. I have a Rösti (pan fried grated potatoes -- I used to always make this dish for the holidays...), Snowdrop and her mom share a cheese fondue and a platter of air dried beef. The little one proclaimed it to be the best beef she has eaten in her life! (It helped that she was hungry, going on just a piece of bread with butter for many many hours now.)

And now both girl and mom are itching to just lie down and rest. A book or a tablet for company. The quiet of a room with very thick walls. Me, I head out. One of us left her glasses somewhere, possibly on the airplane. That is not good. One of us cannot see very far without them. I'm on a mission. Is it possible to get something close to the prescription, made up within... well, a very short time?

I walk to the lake, and through the old town, 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

...to the commercial center and I stop by the first eye glass store on my way. The person there makes calls. He frowns at the absence of a doctor's prescription. He calls and chats some more. He offers coffee while I wait. And finally he comes back with a qualified yes. They can do it (because they have some lenses that are close enough to what is needed already made), and they can be ready before our departure tomorrow. We just have to come back tonight before closing to measure and finalize the order.

Where are you staying? -- he asks.

Les Armures....

Good choice! (well that's a relief!) You should definitely eat at their restaurant. They do have the best cheese fondue! (I'm living the man's dream...)

I ask -- you know, I was curious -- that dried beef, are you supposed to dip that in the cheese too?

You could, but I usually dip the bread then wrap the beef around the cheesy piece! (Next time we'll know!)

A few more blocks this way, that was. I'd forgotten my trusty Melatonin, so I pop into a pharmacy. Sorry, here you need a prescription for it. Ah well... I'm not convinced it works that well anyway. I make my way back to the hotel, where I find that in the short time I was away, tablet chords have disappeared. Plugs have failed. I tell you, I should not leave the room. You never know what may happen in my absence.

Toward evening, Snowdrop comes out for a walk with me. To look around. To feel Geneva in the wintertime. To get some Swiss air. To buy a toothbrush. (One has mysteriously disappeared!) And to sample Swiss chocolates.

(It's one degree above freezing and the Swiss choose to sip beverages outside!)

It;s getting late. Time for all of us to head out for supper, with a stop over at the eye glass store. They guy charges for nothing but the frames and he finds us the cheapest ones in the store, knowing damn well that this is an emergency pair that may not be a perfect match.

Supper? We eat at the Cafe du Centre, which is pretty much in Geneva's center (!). Again, a venerable institution. We're not exactly starving, but still, we eat abundantly. Shrimp, risotto, snails. You can guess which one of us ordered what dish. We are content.

And then we crash. Totally. No explanation needed. Good night!

with love...