Chamonix

Last weekend Gwen, Pete, Margie and I headed to Chamonix, France, and the Alps, marking the second time in consecutive weekends that Gwen and I went to France (I'll lay off the surrender jokes this time - give Frenchy a break) and the first and only time Gwen and I went snowboarding this "season". (In stark contrast to Pete, who must have gone skiing about 15 times this winter - not sure how he managed it really - and who, as I type this, is doing a week-long hut to hut ski/hike between Chamonix and Zermatt, Switzerland. The guy likes to ski.)

I have been to Chamonix before, last winter, and though on that trip we had very little new snow to speak of, we did indulge heavily in phenomenal French cuisine. I was eager to duplicate that experience this time (the eating part), and was hoping for some fresh snow to boot.

We got to experience both.

After a full work day we drove down through Switzerland, and winded our way into France, the entire trip taking about six hours or so. We got a little bit of a late start, and because of this there was some worry that we would be unable to check in at our hotel for the night, (for complicated reasons we were staying in a different hotel Thursday night than the other three nights), as we realized we'd be arriving quite late. We tried calling but no answer (some of these mountain town hotels are weird that way). We reviewed the reservation email in the car at this point which said (please call before 9 pm if you're going to be late!) and we looked at the clock and it was, in fact, 9 pm, and we were getting no answer. Uh oh. We drove on, not knowing what was going to happen.

It all worked out. When we arrived at the hotel, we used the emailed "code" to get open the front doors. On a shelf nearby was an envelope marked "Brophy" with a welcome letter and room key. Wow. Anyway that's kind of a long story told simply to state that this sort of thing wouldn't happen in the States.

I would say that the rest of our lodging experience proved uneventful, but that would be a lie. In fact, I'm happy to say, the second hotel had on its grounds an actual jacuzzi - which is quite the rare find on this side of the pond. For whatever reason, saunas abound in Europe (and this hotel had one of those too, as well as a steam room), but jacuzzis are almost never to be seen. And nothing soothes sore snowboarding muscles like a hot tub.

Between that, the beautiful mountain scenery, the quaint little village, the phenomenal food, the company, the spa treatment, and the pretty damn solid if not spectacular snow, we had ourselves quite a nice little holiday.

Friday was the best snow day and Pete and I got up early to attack the slopes. Unfortunately, attacking any ski slope in Europe means gondola lines and a lot of patented "Euro Herding", which is the art of masses of people shoving toward a small outlet with minimal sense of order or fairness. There's lots of pushing and a Darwinian sense of survival of the fittest.

Once up the mountain, things settled out. On the first day, the upper mountain was not open because of an avalanche risk, so Pete and I settled for the next highest spot. Pete led, with his snow radar (and not to mention his willingness to traverse 46 miles to find 3 good turns in fresh snow), and I followed. Luckily on the first day there was fresh snow all around and finding snow wasn't difficult - we managed to get pretty good fresh areas just about all day, even without the upper mountain open. The weather was warm and spectacular bluebird conditions prevailed.

The Chamonix mountains, as with the Alps in general, are simply incredible. The word on the street is that the Alps are a relatively young mountain range, say compared to the Rockies, and that tectonic youth (which I like to think of as a sort of geologic sass) are what makes them so damn jagged and dramatic looking. They really are unlike any other mountain range I've seen. Just awesome and breathtaking ever time I see them.

That first day on the slopes, hanging with Pete, was a solid reminder of why I snowboard. Not only is the actual activity thrilling and fun, but every time I go - especially when the weather is nice - I have a few "moments" on the mountain, which entail me just sitting on the slope, board strapped on, leaning back on my hands, taking in the view, smelling the clean air, and just basking in the aura of it all. Such a stress relief. Those moments make the actual logistics and expense of a snowboarding trip so worth it. (And with the dollar rate these days - Euro ski trips are NOT cheap.) Something to remember.

The second day there was no new snow, but the upper mountain was opened and so the prior day's snow was still fresh and there was still plenty to be had. My legs were a little sapped on day two early, but they settled out through the soreness (thank you hot tub) and we had another great day, with some of the untouched snow at the higher altitudes being simply awesome powder conditions in parts. It was sunny early, and then clouded up later, but still another great day, complete with Pete and I singing on the lifts, cracking jokes, the whole bit.

Our third day we woke up to rain - boo. It stopped by mid-morning, but we all decided (even Pete) to skip that morning and wait a little. It started to look sunny so Pete and I went up on a different part of the mountain, only the weather turned crappy again. We ended up skiing a half day in rather blustery conditions and on crusty, mostly un-fun snow. I actually brought my iPod out on day three for a trial run with music - something I've never done in all my years on the slopes. I only put one earpiece in to be cautious, and overall I'd say it was pretty cool - definitely neat to have a little fast music pumping away as you attack the run. I may try it again someday.

At nighttime we attacked (we did a lot of attacking - it's part of my ninja background) the village and the restaurant scene, which is second to none in terms of mountain-town eats. On Friday we went to a place called Four Seasons. On Saturday it was the Albert Premier restaurant, a two-Michelin star deal which I had been to before, and which once again was out of this world. The meal has at least three courses complemented by French wine and then after that they wheel out the cheese tray, which has over 30 types of local cheese. Not only that, they let you have as much as you want and they all look so damn good. And after gorging yourself on cheese, they wheel out the dessert tray, with about 15 selections, and again you pick as many as you would like and can handle. Everything looks so good that it's seriously a form of torture - impossible to say no to exotic cheese and dessert but of course there's a price. Stomach pain, but not just stomach pain. Turns out you eat so much there are other more mysterious manifestations of the meal. Both Pete and I noted that we broke out into an "odd sweat" which just sort of came out of nowhere - we're both doctors and we have no explanation for this type of occurrence. But it doesn't matter. You simply notice it, and the coinciding stomach discomfort - and then you shrug and keep stuffing your maw with the planet's best cheese.


If I had to pick my favorite place to go snowboarding in the Alps, I'd narrow it down to St. Anton and Chamonix. I had my best snow day in Europe two winters ago at St. Anton, which is in Austria, however not by much. And given the fact that the food in Chamonix is so good - like New York City or Paris good - simply pushes it over the top. I could easily see myself heading back next year.

And with that - pics! (These pics came out pretty well. Still, pictures of mountains and mountainscapes, in my opinion, simply never do the experience justice...)

Chamonix April 2008