Favourite Places, 6: Chamonix-Mont-Blanc, France

I do not know how to ski. I doubt I will try though I once wore a trash bin liner like a huge black diaper and had exhilarating fun rolling down a rather large snow mound. Doesn’t count for much but I think I got the gist of it.

Everybody in Chamonix seemed able to ski. It’s as natural as walking. I think I was one of the few, including some pensioners, who couldn’t. At least they have age as an excuse, I haven’t got one credible reason. But if I stayed there any longer, the temptation of going onto the slopes just to see for myself the beauty of the Alps would get the better of me. If I had to learn skiing to just get down from the slopes once after the sightseeing, I’d probably do it. Would 3 trash bags be enough to go the distance?

Situated on the north side of Mont Blanc and nestled between great big peaks of Aiguilles du Midi and Aiguilles Rouges, Chamonix is a quaint little cobblestoned town that caters to adventurers and their less brave counterparts. It was the site for the first Winter Olympics held in 1924, and has some seriously dramatic slopes to prove its worth. The pretty Montenvers funicular will bring visitors up from the town to the impressive Mer de Glace glacier, and access the cable cars leading to the Ice Grotto made out of living glacier! Sounds like a lot of work to maintain the place. Summer or Winter, that place is c-c-c-old.

Where the train stops is also one of the starting points for brave adventurers ready to make their way across the Alps to where they need to trek forth.

But they really have only two other choices, Italy or Switzerland. Meh, I’d stay.

Post 94. Chamonix