Croissants and Crampons: November 2011

Thursday 17 November 2011

Some Domestic Notes

In between adventures, there is life at home as well! Last Saturday, we enjoyed some of Fiona’s Scottish scones.

This morning, I was surprised to find this little visitor in my fridge, munching happily (albeit in a partially frozen state) on some parsley. After a snack of some local lettuce, he was released happily into the wild.

Fiona's scones

The stowaway

Remembrance Day

Parading through the streets of Cluses post-ceremony

Standing still

The lovely Melina

Chamonix

Since arriving here, it’s been my goal to get to Chamonix, France’s Mecca of mountaineering and outdoor adventure sports. Although it was the off-season and the streets were relatively quiet, Chamonix didn’t disappoint. Literally sitting in the shadow of Mont Blanc, the highest peak in Europe at about 4000m, the city hosted an impressive array of stores dedicated to the mountains (be it gear, photography and literature, or cold mountain brews). Chamonix itself is teaming with “internationals” (Brits, Aussies, Canadians etc.) drawn there in the name of adventure and a mountain lifestyle.

Looking more for a relaxing day than anything too strenuous, myself and my travelling mates for the day (Fiona and Dee) took a quaint train ride up the mountain to see the “Mer de Glace”, and impressive glacier that snakes its way through the mountains. Although receding due to the effects of global warming, the ice is still a thick blanket covering the valley in which it sits; the landscape here has the ultimate effect of making one feel “small”.

Opting to hike down the mountain in order to make the most of the beautiful day, we would hear the occasional rumble of something (ice, snow or rock) tumbling into the valley. The noise was at once frightening and delightful; a true testament to the power inherent to these mountains, a force that is not to be underestimated. From what I’ve observed, many people come to Chamonix to test their limits and conquer the mountain in some way. As appealing as this might be, I think that for now, I’m content to sit at the base with a warm cup of cocoa between my hands!

La Mer de Glace

Refuge on the mountain

Exploring the glacier

Excited to be in Chamonix!

Crosses

Keeping track of the various mountains (or ‘massifs’) in the Alps has proven to be difficult. The other day, I was describing the details of a particularly grueling hike to one of the locals in my swim club. Naturally, I was asked where I had been. My response? “There was a cross on the top”. This was followed by an outburst of laughter by everyone in the room; there are crosses on so many of the peaks in the Alps, that using a cross as an identifier is absolutely useless. Time to buy a topographical map!

Glad to have some guides...

Monday 7 November 2011

Le Plateau des Glières

Being in France has had the effect of renewing my interest in history, art, literature (a sweeping statement, I know). After visiting Marseille, and laying eyes upon the Château d’If, the setting of much suffering in Alexandre Dumas’ The Count of Monte Cristo, I am suddenly fascinated by classics of French literature. In fact, I’m a quarter of the way into this epic of a novel, and absolutely can’t put it down. It’s astounding that now that my feet are planted solidly here, everything European has become much more fascinating than when I was sitting in a stuffy University classroom on the other side of the ocean. Not once during the course of my English degree did I have any desire to read more Dumas or Hugo (ignore the fact that they are French authors). Now I could veritably eat these books up. Napoleon no longer seems like some fanatic from the past walking into my present via a textbook, because now I’m treading on his turf and can follow his doomed path from Corsica to Paris to Elba and back again. There is so much more room for the imagination when you are closer to the source of all of this history.

This takes me to my visit to “Le Plateau des Glières”, a monument site to fighters who partook in “La Résistance”, an undercover operation against the German army during World War II. Accompanied by Elena (one of the girls I live with), and her boyfriend Diego, we spent the day wandering through this historically rich terrain. In some ways, it was hard to imagine this now peaceful place as the grounds for any kind of fighting, never mind a war of the unprecedented scale of World War II. There are constant reminders of the past in these parts that makes one thankful for the current state of peace; crosses and monuments that are tucked away in forests or perched at 2000m on the top of a mountain, that are at once terrifying and beautiful.

Le Plateau des Glières

Leave No Trace (Haute-Savoie style)

Monument

Self explanatory

Close-up of the monument

Texture

Monument against the landscape

The "go to" place in the alpage

The South (Part I)

I was lucky enough this past week to have a visitor from Canada – my cousin Jessica! Our vacations coincided, resulting in a quick trip to Europe for Jess. We took the opportunity to travel to the South of France, where we were lucky enough to catch some of the last warm rays of sun before winter begins to settle in. The trip was full of contrasts, but it was absolutely fantastic, and a nice change from the Alps (not that I’m complaining).

First stop: Marseille. A port city, and the oldest in France (dating back more than 2000 years), Marseille is a diamond in the rough. Although we were “warned” on the train not to stay in Marseille (the general opinion seems to be that it’s dirty and dangerous), we both enjoyed the city’s grittiness and energy. The skyline is dominated by the imposing silhouette of Notre Dame de la Garde (a beautiful church perched on a hill), and the Château d’If, an ancient prison, haunts the shoreline from the island just off the coast. On the night of our arrival, we indulged in bouillabaisse (a rich seafood soup) in one of the charming back alleys of the Vieux Port, and I couldn’t help but feel that we were walking on layer upon layer of history as we wove our way through town. So much so that I don’t think any amount of the local “Savon de Marseille” (beautiful soaps made from olive oil), could wash away the stories that are embedded in the city’s cobblestone.

Downtown Marseille

Jess with Notre Dame de la Garde in the background

Soap

Soap flakes

Savon de Marseille

Second stop: Cassis. Only about 30 min by train away from Marseille, the change of pace between life in Cassis and Marseille was tangible as soon as we stepped off of the train. Like Marseille, Cassis sits on the Mediterranean, but it’s a tiny town where the air smells of fresh ocean breeze, and the buzz of city life is lulled to more of a hum. Our hostel was a little piece of paradise, and we extended our stay upon arrival because the atmosphere was so welcoming. The local attraction here was the Calanques, a National Park composed of beautiful secluded inlets surrounded by steep rocky cliffs. Although we picked what might be considered a miserable day for a hike, the rain brought with it the benefit of solitude, as we got to enjoy lunch on a completely secluded beach.