Dans les Alpes

---

Throughout junior high and high school, before I even thought about living in France, I dreamed of Chamonix. It was all the snowboard videos, I know. I was hooked and when I realized AFS was going to let me live close to the Alps I knew I had to find some way to coerce my host family or somebody to take me there. Of course, the Montalons have always treated me, as Dad says, like a princess and I didn’t have to worry. They even let me bring my friend Elka along too.
So when Gerard proposed that he and Maryse accompany my parents on their planned Alps trip I thought back to how much fun it was the last time we went up there together. I had planned to slip out of the Alps trip with my parents and stay with Gerard & Maryse at home so I could spend more time with them and see more of my friends from school. As usual, my plans changed at the last minute and all five of us went together in The Tank. Gerard had driven us for the previous tours of the Drome, partly because the behemoth we had been forced to rent in Cannes wouldn’t fit on some of the Vercors roads or through the tunnels. Dad had pleaded with the car rental agency for a Mini Cooper or Mini Austin, and we ended up with a massive Kia SUV which Jaufrey started calling The Tank. The joke stuck and was even elaborated on as we stopped for ammunition (i.e. diesel).
We rolled along the autoroute (going faster than any tank should ever drive) and buzzed through Grenoble up to our first stop in Annecy. We had lunch, walked around the tourist end of town and the along some of the crystal clear canals and over to the lake. The water is impressively clear and well cared for. The lake is Annecy’s pride and joy and they do a wonderful job capitalizing on its beauty. The tourists flock there in the summer, though it wasn’t half as bad as the Cote d’Azur. I spent the afternoon reminiscing about the day my friend Céline and I had taken the train up by ourselves for the annual music festival. We wandered around all night going from stage to stage, as the whole city turns into one giant outdoor concert. We were up all night and took the train home at six the next morning and slept on the way.
Leaving Annecy we zipped on the autoroute up to Chamonix for my parents first sight of Mt. Blanc. We parked and rushed into town to a point where we would have a view of the peak just as the clouds parted. Mt. Blanc is actually covered with clouds the majority of the time. Gerard & Maryse say that the past two times they’ve been up to Chamonix they haven’t had a good view of it. This trip made of for those two failed attempts and the Mt. Blanc shed its cloud cover for the vast majority of out stay.
We stayed at a little hotel in the village of Passy which served a very traditional and scrumptious raclette for dinner and the standard breakfast in the morning. Insert: excerpt from Mom’s journal. “The raclette was a Swiss type cheese in a big half wheel that was placed under an electric heating element so that it melted little by little. You take tiny potatoes or charcuterie out of a common dish, peel the potatoes by hand, and take turns scraping the melted cheese over them. We had to move to another table because the raclette sometimes sets off the fire alarm. We finished up by nibbling at the cheese rind that had been thoroughly crisped by the heat.”
Passy is on the slope facing Mt. Blanc and Chamonix, high up out of the tourist traps and away from the din and pollution of the autoroute that goes through the valley and into the tunnel to Italy. The next day there was actually a “manifestation” planned to protest the pollution (air and noise) of the vast amount of trucks that roar through the narrow little valley and through the tunnel to Italy. It sounded like a good thing to protest to me. The road there really wasn’t built for that kind of traffic and I bet the locals have enough to deal with considering how many tourists flood the place year-round.
The big event at Chamonix was the ride up the télépherique to the Aguille du Midi. The town of Chamonix is at about three or four thousand feet, but the télépherique (a kind of express gondola) zips tourists up to about twelve thousand feet in less than twenty minutes. Gerard and Mom were a little nervous about the elevation change giving them headaches, but Dad’s enthusiasm convinced all of us to go up together regardless. We just walked slow and didn’t stay up there too long. That’s a big elevation gain in a very short amount of time, especially considering the Montalons live at only about 300 feet. It was well worth the trip up and the wait in line. If I get another chance to go up though, I think I’ll try to reserve my ticket several days ahead to skip the worst of the lines and perhaps only go halfway up. The top is beautiful and I’m happy we went all the way up, but there is a very limited area for tourists to be in and after a half hour you’ve seen everything. Halfway up there’s a larger area and some hiking trails. I could probably spend most of a day there. If we had planned ahead better we could have done both, but since we were planning only a half day or so in advance we didn’t even think to bring real shoes to hike in. I went up to the top of the Aguille du Midi in my Chaco sandals. At least I had a good coat and my Cambodian krama, because it was definitely cold!
Mom’s journal excerpt: “At the top of the needle the view was spectacular, the avalanche obvious . Also saw mountains & glaciers everywhere, the base camp tents, the ropes of climbers coming back from the summit. They all use the cable car to get up that far, then extreme rock climbing to get off the Needle, then across the glaciers up Mont Blanc.”
Back home in Villeneuve we had a soirée crêpe, which I had been dreaming about for at least three years. I love crêpes at the Montalon house, they just taste better there than anywhere else. We finished the meal with some genepi liquor that Gerard had made himself. It was much better than any other genepi I had ever tasted. Since it was my last evening there I convinced Marlène and Céline to drive out to Villeneuve so I could see them before I was whisked back to Idaho. The next morning we had to take the train back up to the massive metropolis of Paris and then onto the endless time warp of airports.
It’s never enough time, but I’m so happy I got to see the people who made the effort to see me during this whirlwind trip through France. The country is beautiful, but it’s my friends there I miss the most.

---

Photos

Annecy
Who would have ever thought I'd get a photo of myself with my dad and Maryse & Gerard in front of the old prison?

Courtyard in Annecy
Dad says he now understands why I love France so much. Not only do I get treated like a rockstar/princess by all my friends, but the place is just beautiful.

Dawn on Mt Blanc
Mom got up early the day we took the telepherique up and caught the mountain in its rosy morning glory.

Mt Blanc
Mom, Maryse, Gerard & Dad with Mt Blanc just above Maryse's head.

Aguille du Midi
The telepherique is used by real mountain climbers, but it's obviously made for tourists.

Mon père et moi
Dad looked positively radiant up there. I think it's an understatement to say he was happy to see the Mt Blanc, (which is just above my head).