On my last night in Lyon, I went to a Lebanese restaurant called Rose de Damas in the Part-Dieu neighbourhood. The location and appearance didn’t suggest that this was the #6-ranked restaurant (out of more than 2200) in Lyon. And roughly 90 of those restaurants have at least one Michelin star. Rose de Damas doesn’t. But I agree with popular opinion on this one: I thought my meal there was outstanding.
My Menu végétarien at the Rose de Damas
I went for the Menu végétarien, which had an assortment of hot and cold dishes. Check out the above photograph – doesn’t it look spectacular? The cylindrical pastry on top was filled with cheese. And they didn’t try to overwhelm with garlic, as some restaurants seem determined to do. Instead, the dip tasted of sesame. Other interesting flavours included walnut and pomegranate. My photo of the restaurant itself (see below) was taken at night, but I think you can tell that it looks cosy yet unpretentious.
Night view of the Rose de Damas in Lyon
The next morning, I was up bright and early to catch a series of trains from Lyon to Zweisimmen. I had to change trains in Geneva and Montreux, but those stops were very brief…thanks to the incredibly dense network of public transportation in Switzerland. Zweisimmen is in the heart of my ancestral Swiss valley, and is my base for skiing (and more!) for the next three days. The picture at the very top of this post is an overcast view of Zweisimmen taken from the ski gondola.
Waiting for the train to depart Montreux for Zweisimmen. If this is 2nd class, I wonder what 1st class looks like?
The posh resort village of Gstaad is just down the road: check out the 2nd class railway car on this route. The wood panelling and skylights are standard issue. The service was very impressive too.
Hotel Sonnegg – home for my three days in Zweisimmen, Switzerland
I’m staying at the Hotel Sonnegg (above), a very friendly family-run hotel at the top of the town. It can be a demanding uphill walk from the downtown core, but it’s also very peaceful. There are no rowdy late-night disturbances!
Speaking of family, my cousin Catherine happened to be on a brief visit to the nearby village of Mannried. We hadn’t seen each other for a while, so we had an enjoyable catch-up dinner at the Bären Restaurant (see above). This restaurant serves mostly Swiss food, and I had my very first Rösti of the trip! Very good, but also very filling. Perfect for the demanding sports-filled days that lay ahead!
Another chalet in downtown Zweisimmen. The yellow signs point the way to various nearby places and villages…including Weissenbach, where I visited my grandfather as a child.
The uphill walk back to my hotel wasn’t easy, but it’s hard to complain when there are so many typical rustic chalets along the way. It’s so nice to see the real thing. (Don’t get me started on the Canadian restaurant chain called “Swiss Chalet”: it is neither Swiss nor a chalet.).
Above Zweisimmen – a cosy place with a nice view
But what about the skiing, you ask? All those spectacular photos are coming up soon! And I’ll also be telling you about a very special sports experience I had in Gstaad, of all places…
I hadn’t planned to visit Lyon on this trip. But, as you may recall, I found a great flight deal here from Montreal. I suspect that late February is not a particularly high-demand time for that route. And that came in handy a second time!
Les Halles de Lyon – Paul Bocuse
Many airlines now allow you to bid for an upgrade to a higher class, if there are empty seats in their premium economy or business classes. I was booked into economy on this trip, although I had selected an exit row seat for the extra leg room. Even so, I still find the ever-shrinking seats in economy class to be very uncomfortable (especially if the flight is full). It’s not just the leg room: shoulder room is scarce too! Add to that the loss of a night’s sleep, and it’s not the best way to start off a European trip…especially one that is going to be very active.
Les Halles de Lyon – Paul Bocuse
All this means that I was particularly interested in bidding for an upgrade to business class on this trip. The lie-flat seats can accommodate someone who is 6’6″, so even I can fully stretch out in them. There usually is a minimum bid for such an upgrade, but even that was reduced by 25% on this flight. I figured that was a good sign too. I decided to bid just a tiny bit more than the revised minimum, and was fairly confident I would succeed. And I did!
This passage in Lyon was filled with very specialized (and/or very posh) shops
Some things to remember: while you get access to the business lounge before departure (with all the free food and drinks you can handle), they don’t let you in until 3 hours before departure. Also: my flight to Lyon arrived earlier than expected. It was barely 7 hours. That cuts down on sleeping time, as meals are served at the beginning and end of the flight. Business class travel actually makes a longer flight more desirable!
I didn’t ride the Ferris wheel in downtown Lyon…maybe I should have?
Anyway, here I am in Lyon. Given Lyon’s culinary reputation, I stopped by Les Halles de Lyon – Paul Bocuse. It is an indoor food market named after Lyon’s most famous chef, and quite close to my hotel. As you can imagine, the offerings tend to toward the swankier end of the decadence spectrum. And regardless of the product, the displays are spectacular too. Take my word for it – you will know when you are near a cheese vendor.
This very ornate Lyon carousel must be from the 19th century
From there, I crossed the Rhône river to what I’m going to call the “Belle Epoque” part of Lyon. Not the truly ancient Vieux-Lyon, but the prosperous Presqu’île district. It’s full of grand boulevards and grand buildings, with a lot of luxury brands from all over the world. From a shopping perspective, it’s certainly not what I was looking for. But I managed to find a FNAC record shop in a suitably attractive building, and I now have a musical souvenir from the trip!
You don’t see many record shops like this anymore (Lyon, France)
As I really only have one “discretionary” meal here in France’s food capital, I wanted to make it worthwhile. So, I did some research on special options that I could walk to from my hotel. I found something that ticked all the boxes for me: a family-run restaurant that has developed an outstanding reputation for quality food from the “old country”…in this case, Lebanon and Syria. The reviews were gushing, to say the least. Perhaps more importantly, I didn’t see any bad reviews either.
Olfactory extravaganza!
Watch for my next blog, when you’ll find out whether this local favourite lived up to its fabulous reputation!
My last overseas trip seems like it was ages ago. In reality, it was less than four years ago (March 2020) that I went skiing in Les Diablerets, Switzerland, and Morzine, France. But so much has happened since then.
The fearsome Swiss Wall, on the Switzerland/France border in the massive Portes du Soleil ski region (March 2020).
A global pandemic would be the most obvious intervening factor. But there have also been changes in travel philosophies and a personal reconfiguring of priorities. I did manage to ski in Banff in 2022, but otherwise I haven’t been on the slopes. And other than a brief trip into northern New York, I haven’t been outside of Canada since March 2020 either.
Me and my friend, the skiing “Milka chocolate” cow – near Les Gets, France (March 2020)
This has been quite a change for me. I used to ski in Europe every winter and spend every other summer vacation in Europe too. And of course there was my travel sabbatical in 2014, which prompted the creation of this blog. That year, I tackled my travel bucket list and went to Europe no less than six times.
Our ski group passing through the rocks at Pomedes (Cortina d’Ampezzo – March 2014)
So when I made the decision to ski in Europe this winter, I had to ask myself a lot of questions. Which country (or countries) should I visit? Do I try to go somewhere new? Do I return to some old haunts? Am I travelling on a budget? Will I do anything besides skiing?
Skiing by torch light down to Grindelwald (March 13, 2000)
It didn’t take long for me to realize that much has changed since early 2020. Most notably: the dramatic price increases for flights and hotels. It dawned on me that I probably wouldn’t be resuming annual ski trips to Europe. And my choice of destination was likely going to be influenced by where airfares and accommodation prices were most competitive.
Me skiing on the lower slopes of the legendary Eiger (March 2002)
I made the decision to stick with places that had special meaning for me. And so, when I found a good hotel deal in Wengen, Switzerland, I jumped at the opportunity. I’ve skied in Wengen and the linked resort of Grindelwald many times before. Not only is the skiing excellent, but I think the surrounding scenery might be the very best in any ski area anywhere. If you’ve never seen the Eiger up close (or been skiing on it!)…it is beyond spectacular. And then there’s the Jungfrau, the Schilthorn (known for James Bond and “On Her Majesty’s Secret Service”)…
Looking down on Wengen from the cable car – March 2005 (skating rink and curling hall at top left)
All of that is amazing. And then Wengen itself is a car-free village perched on a cliff overlooking the famous Lauterbrunnen valley…reachable only by a special cog-wheel train. For an overall skiing experience, I don’t think it can be beat. Zermatt is bigger, and it has the Matterhorn, but I feel most at home in Wengen.
Stretching above the clouds, high above Wengen and Grindelwald, in March 2005
Trying to book my flights was a very long bout of sticker shock. I had to summon all of my tricks to find a reasonably priced itinerary that also had direct flights from Canada. On a relatively short trip, I couldn’t afford to miss flight connections (or luggage).
Ho-hum, just a midway station on the way up to the Schilthorn…
Finally, after hours and hours of trial and error, I found something that worked at an acceptable price: I would fly outbound from Montreal direct to Lyon, France, and then return home by a direct flight from Zurich to Toronto. Unusual? Yes. But it’s out of necessity: my flight costs are always increased by the need for additional leg room…and the airlines are experts in extracting every conceivable additional charge.
This way to everything! On the France-Switzerland border, March 2020.
I am excited about starting my trip in Lyon. It’s the “second city” of France, and yet people rarely talk about it as a destination. It has a beautiful old town, a reputation for great food, and is less than an hour from the Alps. And I’ve never been there. What a great way to begin!
View from my hotel room in Geneva, Switzerland (March 2020) – I’ll pass through here again this winter after visiting Lyon
I had a few days to allocate between my stays in Lyon and Wengen. In the end, I went with another sentimental choice. The Swiss side of my family is from the Simmental (Simme Valley), so I happily booked a few nights in the town of Zweisimmen (literally, where two branches of the Simme River meet). This also allows me to ski for a couple of days in the Gstaad ski region, where I have been skiing a few times with friends and family.
Skiing above Zweisimmen at Parwengesattel (March 2018)
The skiing around Zweisimmen is not quite as dramatic as Wengen, but the region has the added bonus of being my ancestral home. And you can’t put a price on that. What better way to visit my roots than by doing something I love? And I have to say that skiing is my favourite way of experiencing the mountains…no matter which mountains I’m visiting! That’s why most of this trip will be spent skiing rather than “touristing”.
My grandfather’s chalet (straight ahead) in Weissenbach, Switzerland (August 2006), just a couple of kilometers from Zweisimmen
So, that’s the trip. It has some very meaningful skiing, and also some interesting new destinations before and after the skiing. I’ll keep the last stop a mystery for now. Besides – all my hotel bookings have free cancellations, so I still have time to change my mind!
The 2022 World Cup ended last week, with Argentina winning the final over France. While I have mixed feelings about the tournament, the final match was highly entertaining.
The Arc de Triomphe, overlooking l’avenue des Champs-Élysées, after France won the 2018 World Cup
Argentina is a huge country, so our brief visit barely scratched the surface. And we were there in the middle of the Argentinian winter, which meant snow around Bariloche and lots of cool temperatures and fog in Buenos Aires. We did not get the feeling that this was high season for tourism. But we nearly didn’t get there at all!
A winter rose in front of the customs office in Puerto Frias, Argentina
We were travelling with a small group, and approached the Argentinian border on a complicated bus & boat route through the Chilean Andes. Alas, due to a missing bar code for my wife’s visa, we were left behind at a remote hotel while the rest of the group crossed the border without incident. We didn’t get clearance to proceed until the next day, and even that was a near-miracle.
View of Puerto Blest, Chile, from across the lake
Anyway, despite all that, we really enjoyed the lakes and mountains around the Argentina-Chile border. And with the benefit of six intervening years (not to mention a worldwide pandemic), even the border hassle doesn’t seem that bad now.
San Telmo by night, just outside the tango venue
We spent most of our Argentina time in the capital, Buenos Aires. My lasting impression is how European it looked: the buildings looked very Parisian, and there was an Italian vibe everywhere. I guess this shouldn’t be surprising: many Argentinians (including current soccer hero Lionel Messi) have Italian ancestry.
View from “our” box at the Teatro Colón (Buenos Aires, Argentina)
We stayed in Buenos Aires for a few extra days after our group dispersed. We also covered a lot of terrain on foot, and enjoyed a number of unexpected surprises. For example, we really enjoyed a billiards cafe, which is not something we would seek out (or find) here in Canada. We found an outstanding bookstore that used to be an opulent theatre. And we found a great local restaurant that did *not* specialize in obscene amounts of grilled meat.
Locro at La Cumana (Buenos Aires, Argentina)
Despite our jam-packed itinerary, there are still a few things that we weren’t able to do. We didn’t make it to a soccer game, as it was out of season. This was unfortunate, as going to soccer games is often a part of our international travels. I still haven’t been to one in Latin America.
The German Shepherd “sat” on the bench with his owner for at least 15 minutes (Buenos Aires, Argentina)
And we didn’t make it to Uruguay. We had hoped to make a day trip to Colonia del Sacramento, a historic Uruguayan city that was only about an hour away by boat. But our potential travel day was very rainy and cold, and we thought it might be better to focus on urban (and indoor) things that day.
Inside Los 36 Billares, a billiards cafe in Buenos Aires
But that’s one of the cardinal rules of travel: don’t try to do everything in one trip. Assume you will return one day, and you’ll already have a head start on that future itinerary.
1st floor of El Ateneo bookshop on Avenida Santa Fe, Buenos Aires
Speaking of future itineraries…I have been thinking about this a lot lately. It’s complicated, there are many competing considerations. But what would I do if I suddenly had an open calendar and no restrictions? Stay tuned for lots of interesting content as we move into 2023!
I won’t try to objectively rank the best ski areas in Europe… there are far too many for that! But why not try to rank the ones I know?
The question: in which resort would I most want to spend an entire week of skiing, without regard to cost? Everything else can be considered: the skiing, the town, the atmosphere, and the food are all fair game. I tried not to assign too much weight to the particular place I stayed: if I did, one otherwise fine Italian area wouldn’t have been on the list…as our hotel was located next to what seemed to be a sewage plant. Let’s start the countdown to #1!
The insane “Swiss Wall” starts at the French border, in the Portes du Soleil ski region. As you can see, some parts have a 90% gradient!
10. Morzine (Portes du Soleil), France. Full marks for the extent of this region: it’s the second biggest in the world, with 13 different resorts and 208 ski lifts! Some of the resorts are in Switzerland, and it is fun to ski back and forth between countries. I wasn’t as keen on the sheer numbers of skiers, and some of the resorts (Avoriaz in particular) are purpose-built with little or no character. The Swiss resorts are smaller and more inviting, but the skiing on the Swiss side is also relatively limited. But there’s always the Swiss Wall…
Believe it or not: this is on-piste in the afternoon above Borgata (Sestriere)
9. Sestriere (Via Lattea), Italy. Italian for “Milky Way”, the Via Lattea includes 5 Italian resorts and one French resort (and 70 lifts). But getting to the French resort is not easy, especially when conditions are less than ideal. Still, we found some spectacular pistes…that made us forget about the sewage plant beside our hotel. Fortunately, most hotels are located away from that plant. Sestriere is another purpose-built resort, but it is old enough to still be interesting (a cylindrical hotel, anyone?).
Lots of choices, high above Lenk and Adelboden (Switzerland)
8. Lenk, Switzerland. Linked to the resort of Adelboden, this is a sentimental choice. It’s my Heimatort (place of origin) in Switzerland, and I can ski with family members here. While not as extensive as the other places on my list, it still feels very Swiss and I didn’t find crowds to be a problem. It’s also a quick train ride away from St. Stephan, which is part of the separate Gstaad ski area (and home to more skiing relatives). I had one of my best powder days ever here.
Madonna di Campiglio
7. Madonna di Campiglio,Italy. Not as extensive as the Via Lattea area, but scores higher on things like atmosphere and food quality. Like Lenk, it caters more to a domestic crowd. Perhaps for that reason, I really felt like I was on vacation when I was skiing here. I don’t think I heard any English during the entire week. We also spent an entire morning at an outdoor cafe!
Stuben at night
6. Stuben (St. Anton/Arlberg), Austria. The Arlberg ski region is another vast area, including 7 different resorts (perhaps more by now!). I enjoyed tiny and remote Stuben, which retained some Tyrolean character, but still gave access to the larger areas such as St. Anton, Lech and Zurs. You really have to pick your base carefully: St. Anton, for example, is just too rowdy and “in your face” for me.
Our ski group passing through the rocks at Pomedes (Cortina d’Ampezzo)
5. Cortina d’Ampezzo, Italy. Similar to Madonna di Campiglio, this is a major resort with a domestic focus. But I found the setting even more spectacular: skiing even closer to (and through!) the stunning Dolomites, and the legendary “Hidden Valley” actually lives up to the mystique of its name. With 12 distinct resorts in the Dolomiti SuperSki area, the options are endless even though there aren’t too many pistes in Cortina itself.
I’m enjoying the empty slopes at Piz Lagalb!
4. Celerina (St. Moritz), Switzerland. While St. Moritz is too posh for my taste, staying in nearby Celerina was the perfect way to experience this collection of five distinct resorts. Corvatsch had the best overall skiing, but the remote glacier areas of Diavolezza and Lagalb are unforgettable skiing experiences that few people bother to experience. The long-ish bus ride to Diavolezza and Lagalb is worth it: one day, there were only 10 other skiers on the slopes!
The jagged Dolomite peaks
3. Selva (Val Gardena), Italy. At the opposite end of the Dolomiti SuperSki area from Cortina d’Ampezzo, the town is perhaps not as elegant. But the combination of vast skiing options, unsurpassed food, and interesting culture made it one of my very best ski weeks ever (see the most recent post on this blog for proof!). This is the one resort that I keep wanting to revisit, and I would even like to return to the very same hotel. I never thought a hotel meal plan could be so amazing.
Me on the lower slopes of the mighty Eiger
2. Wengen, Switzerland. I have skied here (and the linked resort of Grindelwald) so often that I consider it my “home” ski area. So while it is partly a sentimental choice, I challenge anyone to find a more dramatic experience than skiing in front of (or on!) the legendary north face of the Eiger. I especially love the steep pistes (such as Black Rock or Oh God) just below the Eigergletscher, but there are challenges elsewhere too. One cannot forget the Schilthorn: despite being most famous for a James Bond movie, it’s a demanding and impossibly scenic mountain.
At the top of Klein Matterhorn, just before a wee bout of altitude sickness kicked in!
1. Zermatt, Switzerland. It’s huge, in every sense of the word. The resort spills over into Italy. You can ski a 20 km-long piste!! It even includes the Matterhorn (see photo at the top of this post)!!! But the best summary of Zermatt is a simple one: it is a resort that is unquestionably meant for skiers. If you are a serious skier and can only ski once in the Alps, you need to seriously consider Zermatt. Not every run is 20 km long, but many of them do seem to go on forever. There is an exceptional variety of terrain, with the Swiss side in particular having some very challenging on-piste skiing. Now, if only cost weren’t really an issue…
Usually, the sixth day of skiing in a resort involves revisiting the highlights of the previous five days of skiing. However, due to the massive size of the Portes du Soleil region, we found ourselves in a completely new area on our last day.
A brilliant day above Les Crosets, Switzerland
Before this trip, I had never heard of Châtel, France. But it hosts a fairly extensive set of slopes radiating out in all directions from the town itself. The snow was excellent and we even made it into Switzerland again briefly: one of the lifts starts in France and ends in Switzerland. When you ski down, however, you soon find yourself back in France.
Turn left for everything, above Champoussin (Switzerland)
Of course, drama is the theme of this year’s trip…so it was only fitting that we had some more of it during our last day of skiing. This time, a power outage knocked out 4 lifts which we had just taken…and these were 4 lifts that we needed to get back to Morzine! We had to take 2 “navettes” in order to get around the blockage: on the second one, there must have been 100 people on the bus. We were wedged in like rush-hour commuters, with people falling onto each other whenever the bus went around a bend (which was a lot…these are the Alps!). Everybody was in a panic because they were afraid that they wouldn’t make it back before the rest of the lifts closed too.
Goulash in a bread bowl, at Champoussin (Switzerland)
Anyway, it worked out in the end and we had a very nice lunch at Le Blattin. This is a mountain hut high above Châtel that epitomized “cozy”. I would love to share some pictures of it, but my camera got soaked in the previous day’s rain and wasn’t working. Click here to see a picture that somebody else took.
Near Champoussin, Switzerland
In fact, I couldn’t take any pictures until the very end of the day. As the terrain and “vibe” was similar, I’m including some more pictures from Portes du Soleil Day 4 instead.
Near the Swiss border at Avoriaz (France), some skiers contemplate their next move
I continued skiing until 5:15 p.m. on the last day, and then caught a bus back to Morzine from the hamlet of Ardent. As the day slipped away, I passed the usual milestones: the last mountain lunch, the last lift, the last piste, the last turn…until I finally had to pop out of my bindings and admit that the skiing portion of my holiday was over.
Just inside the Swiss border, near Pointe des Mossettes
The Portes du Soleil region is massive. I didn’t get to the areas that were not lift-connected, and I didn’t really get to Mont-Chery, the slopes north and east of Châtel, the slopes north of Morgins, the slopes south of Avoriaz, or some of the slopes above Champery. That might look like a lot, but it pales in comparison to what we did actually see.
Les Lindarets, France, the “Village des Chèvres”
Overall, Portes du Soleil gets a passing grade, with bonus marks for the extended lift hours and the unique international aspect of the slopes. If I return here some day, I think I will base myself in one of the Swiss villages and focus on the Châtel and Swiss slopes. They were less busy and also felt more “authentic”, especially on the Swiss side. There was little or no purpose-built mass development, as we saw in Avoriaz (France). It was mayhem passing through the Avoriaz slopes during the late afternoon “rush hour”!
While the skiing part of my trip is now complete, I still have a brief stay in Geneva coming up. Stay tuned!
Our fourth and fifth days of skiing in Morzine could not have been more different. Day 4 was our second attempt to ski from France to Switzerland. Unlike our first attempt, we did not lose any gear along the way…and the weather was brilliant. At the border on Pointe des Mossettes, we could actually see a sign welcoming us to Switzerland. What a difference two days can make!
Admiring the scenery between Pointe des Mossettes and Morgins, Switzerland
We then took a long meandering piste, traversing both exposed Alpine slopes and cozy cliffside forests, all the way down to the Swiss village of Morgins. With a vertical drop of nearly 1000 m, but a very gentle slope, the piste seemed to go on forever. We didn’t mind: the mountains seemed much more rugged and awe-inspiring on the Swiss side of the border.
I took this photo at the end of the piste in Morgins, Switzerland
The slopes at Morgins, Champoussin, and Les Crosets were also virtually deserted. It was almost perfect: fresh snow, temperatures right around 0’C, blazing sun…we were happy to stay for lunch in Champoussin and plan our next move.
The “Dents du Midi” rise above Champoussin, Switzerland
We decided to take a closer look at the “Swiss Wall” (see photo at the very top of this post). This is a notorious piste, probably the steepest and most difficult marked piste in Europe (if not the world). Heavily mogulled, it also has a slope of 90% in places. It didn’t look too bad when I faced it, but when I looked down on it from the chair lift…that old survival gene kicked in. This would be a test of nerves, not elegance. Ultimately, I didn’t think 3:30 p.m., after a heavy goulash lunch, was the best time to attempt the most difficult piste I’ve ever seen. After taking a few pictures, we retreated from the Swiss Wall and re-entered France. We returned to Morzine quite tired but very happy with our international ski safari.
The Swiss Wall, seen from below
The 5th day was another story. It rained for 24 hours straight. And not just a light drizzle: most of that 24-hour period could be fairly described as “pouring”. I took no pictures, because it would have been pointless. We did go skiing, trying to escape the incessant rain in Morzine. While the rain did indeed turn to snow at about 1700 m elevation, it was accompanied by howling winds and whiteout conditions. And then the lifts started closing. We took a rare mid-morning break, and an extended lunch, in an attempt to dry out a bit.
Just above Morgins, Switzerland
The day ended with my mitts literally disintegrating in my bathroom sink. Everything was drenched, and I have no idea what will dry out enough to be usable tomorrow. My mitts were so structurally compromised that I went out and bought new ones just before the shops closed. Not my proudest consumer moment, but I really had no choice if I wanted to participate in the final day of skiing.
Approaching Les Crosets, Switzerland
For obvious reasons, all of today’s pictures are from the much more photogenic 4th day of skiing in France and Switzerland.
I just completed two of the strangest days of skiing I’ve ever had. They are forever linked by a massive blizzard…the 4th one I’ve experienced in a six-day period.
Ludicrous snowfall in Les Lindarets, France
On Monday, our goal was to ski to (and in) Switzerland. This involved several lifts and pistes, passing through the high alpine resort of Avoriaz, before finally disembarking from the Mossette chairlift above the Swiss village of Les Crosets. It seemed simple enough, and it didn’t take too much more than an hour.
Several hours later, the blizzard continues on the pistes near Les Lindarets, France
Alas, we had some challenges. One skier’s backpack somehow became unzipped while on the Mossette lift, and he lost both his spare jacket and his spare gloves in the desolate border region far below. After getting off the lift, we immediately returned to France from Switzerland. A simple plan to meet again (after a search for the missing items) went laughably wrong, as the Mossette lift was then closed due to sudden high winds and blizzard-like conditions. We had to take 3 lifts to get back to where we once were, and the visibility was rapidly deteriorating.
Top of the slopes on “La Rosta”
Never mind the appealing novelty of skiing in Switzerland for a few hours…we couldn’t see anything above the treeline, and we ran the risk that the rest of the cross-border lifts would also close and leave us stranded. We were forced to retreat to lower altitudes, away from the Swiss border, and close to the French village of Ardent. The pistes were drowning in wet snow. I actually love those kinds of conditions, but it is very hard work to slice through such voluminous and soggy snow. We had lunch in a very picturesque hamlet above Ardent called Les Lindarets, also known as the “Village des Chèvres” (“village of goats”). We had to ski down the main “street” to select an appropriate restaurant.
Me and my friend, the skiing “Milka” cow
After lunch (see photo of Les Lindarets above), there must have been an additional foot of snow. It was impossible to figure out where our skis where, as so much snow had fallen on them. It was pouring snow, forming outrageous patterns on our helmets and jackets. With temperatures hovering around 0’C, the snow soon turned to water on our ski outfits. I’ve never been so wet after skiing in such an intense blizzard.
Another view of the “Milka” cow, at the “La Rosta” peak near Les Gets, France
The next day, we awoke to an obscene amount of new snow. While some pistes were groomed, many weren’t. So we encountered dramatic off-piste conditions, except that we were still mostly skiing on-piste. Skiing through such deep snow can be exhausting. You can’t just slide or coast: you need to constantly keep your ski tips up to avoid face-planting, and you essentially need to “jump” from turn to turn to avoid getting stuck (or, again, doing a face-plant). It’s great fun, but you cannot let your guard down for even a second. And many of the pistes above Les Gets are very long.
We had lunch at this mountain restaurant, just above Les Gets
As noon approached, we had our most challenging runs of the day. The Myrtilles piste on Pointe de la Turche was ungroomed and had about 3-4 feet of new, loose snow on top of it. It also was rated as a black piste…in a country where very, very few pistes attract the black (meaning “very difficult”) rating. It was steep and unpredictable, even without 3-4 feet of new, loose snow on top of the existing base. See the “cover” photo at the top of this post for a photo taken near the top. Looking at it now, I can’t believe we went down twice. Once again: we were completely exhausted, but with a sense of real accomplishment.
And this is what I had for lunch: Tartiflette (cheese, potatoes, cream, bacon)
After such a draining experience, it came as no surprise that a skiing purple cow was waiting for us at the top of the neighbouring La Rosta peak. I posed for a photo (during which cow repeatedly and loudly mooed), and was rewarded with a handful of “Milka” chocolates. Apparently, Milka’s mascot is a purple cow. And this cow skis, albeit not that well. It has a very big head, which may impact “her” skiing ability. Still, I am impressed that a cow can ski at all. I then got my daily alpine cheese fix with a delicious “tartiflette” for lunch.
Our hotel in Morzine, France
The last skiing shock of the day came at the absurdly late hour of 5:29 p.m., when we were able to board the local gondola and ski one final time down to Morzine. I’ve never been on such a late daytime lift…and we had started the day before 9:00 a.m. We had the piste to ourselves: we could watch the sun begin to set while we were still on the slopes.
I don’t think anything can surprise me now. But we still have three more days of skiing…who knows what still lies ahead?
While I enjoyed the tranquility of Les Diablerets, it was time to move on to Morzine, France. It’s not far: maybe only 60 km if you could walk. But you can’t. And, in the winter, most of the mountain passes are closed to traffic. As a result, our train and shuttle bus journey took nearly 6 hours (with an hour stopover in Geneva).
Rösti with goat cheese, at the Auberge de la Poste in Les Diablerets, Switzerland
There are worse ways to spend half a day. We began with a very scenic ride on the quaint mountain railroad between Les Diablerets and Aigle. We then followed the entire north shore of Lake Geneva, with its great views of the French Alps, to get to Geneva itself. Finally, we circled back on the south side of Lake Geneva and turned onto the claustrophobic narrow valley that leads to Morzine.
The castle at Aigle, Switzerland (a.k.a. le château d’Aigle)
Our first impression of Morzine was not very good. The rain was pouring down and there were quite a few brown patches visible on the slopes immediately above the town. It looked like a lot of skiers were ending their day early. It sure didn’t look like a whole lot of fun. Especially when I had to do some laundry in a dimly lit and odd-smelling laundromat.
Morzine, France, as seen from the top of the Pointe de Nyon piste
Of course, rain at the lower elevations often means snow at the higher ones. And the relentless rain evolved into brilliant sunshine by the morning. There was even some fresh snow! The photo at the top of this post was taken at the start of our very first run (from the top of the Pleney lift).
Lake Geneva in the distance, as seen from the top of Chamossiere
Morzine is just one of the 13 villages that make up the “Portes du Soleil” ski region shared by Switzerland and France. You can ski across the border at a number of locations. It is one of the two largest ski regions in the world: there are about 200 lifts, and more than 650 km of pistes!
Essentially the same view, but photobombed by a Dutch skier
Our first day was devoted to the pistes near Morzine. My favourites were those on Chamossiere and Pointe de Nyon, where there was still a significant amount of loose snow. By the end of the day, the weather had changed to a blizzard…but, once again, that’s not a bad thing if it clears up by the morning.
Everybody has their cameras out at Chamossiere
With no lift lines to speak of (on a weekend!) and a huge range of skiing options, Morzine and the Portes du Soleil are steadily improving on that iffy first impression. Stay tuned to see the final verdict, as we venture further afield!
From the natural landscapes to the 24-hour loss of heat and power, there certainly was no shortage of drama on my recent trip to Nevada, Utah, and Arizona.
Antelope Canyon
Ultimately, however, the loss of power was just an inconvenience. We met people the day before who cannot connect to the electrical system at all, so that put our temporary loss into perspective. It also reminded us how utterly dependent we have become on electricity.
Antelope Canyon
From a travel strategy perspective, I was thankful that I had journeyed to these relatively remote areas as part of a group. Having that additional level of support was quite helpful, even on the days when the power remained in force. I will continue to use small group travel in situations where I don’t think I’m properly equipped to manage on my own if things go wrong. Off-season travel to remote locations certainly falls into that category, even if there is no language barrier.
Antelope Canyon
Having said that, I am very much looking forward to my next independent adventure. Later this winter, I will be skiing in countries that are very familiar, but in locations that are new to me. I’ll start by spending several days in and around Les Diablerets, Switzerland. This is in the French-speaking Canton of Vaud, just a few kilometres west of my 2018 ski adventure in Lenk.
Me, hiking determinedly in Zion National Park
From there, I will travel further west for a full week of skiing in Morzine, France. While I have been in France a few times recently (including a wonderful summer 2018 trip to Normandy and Brittany), I have never been skiing there. In fact, I have never been skiing in any French-speaking part of Europe…so far, my only French-speaking skiing has been in the province of Quebec.
Antelope Canyon
Morzine should be a great base. It is part of the vast (201 ski lifts!) Les Portes du Soleil ski region, linking thirteen resorts in both France and Switzerland. We’ll be able to ski back and forth between countries, not just villages! Stay tuned for lots more on this exciting destination in the Haute-Savoie.
Antelope Canyon
I will end this post by mentioning one more benefit of travelling in a group: being able to get great photos! All of the photos in today’s post were taken by other travellers who graciously allowed me to use them in this blog. If you want to read more, you can check out these recent posts on Antelope Canyon (Arizona) and Zion National Park (Utah).
