My Chamonix experience begins when Matt and I rush into a waiting minicab and head towards the airport. We meet up with Paul and Andrew (Allo and Dobson, for those of you in the know) and hop onto a plane for Geneva. Get into Geneva and then BARELY make the only coach (well, the next one was in 3 hours' time!) to Chamonix.
Chamonix (say 'shamonee') is a little resort town located in a valley on the French side of the Alps. We get there and then immediately start walking in the wrong direction, and away from our accomodation. After Dobson released some pent up energy and fustration by pelting the rest of us with snowballs (and they CAN hit you with some force), we found a nice man with a nice bus to drop us off at our chalet.
BTW- it had been made loud and clear that this was to be a boys' weekend so I better toughen up and join in, "maggot". Yep. For this brief period intime, I was one of the maggots. *RIGHT*We then had a few beers, and a bite to eat-I tried an Alsacian specialty (were we even near Alsace?)- a HUGE plate ofsauerkraut and boiled meats (different sausages and somesort of bacon). *eh* nice, but boring after a while. even piled withmustard.we then went to rent our snow gear- coz I was so short (as dobson wouldsay, "a little maggot"), I got a kid's board. *bah* then it was back to thepub for more beers, while the big maggots decided where they wanted to tearup the next day.
As I mentioned earlier, Chamonix is in a valley, andthere's quite a few different areas with their separate ski lifts andcables that you could go to. So we were going to check out La Flegere/LesPraz. http://www.alpineskimaps.com/france/chamonix/winmap.html
Got there in the morning, via a bouncy cable car and step out into a winter wonderland. We're above the treeline so there's snow EVERYWHERE (duh, Ihear you say) and I can see mountain peaks close by.It's not that sunny today so the colour palette's all white and grey. So not what I've everseen before.I'm really daunted by strapping myself both feet onto a piece of wood/plastic. we'd tried to set some lessons up for me, but there weren'tany available in the morning. the boys suggested that I come with them and try it out myself, first. We're on the next to easiest run (green run) but the slopes all look really steep. Matt shows me how to strap myself onto the snowboard while dobson and allo zoom off. I try to stand up and land straight on my @rse. matt puts his on and slides down to the slope easily........
I'm stuck. I have no idea how I'm meant to stand, balance, or even DO. Allo's back and suggests I walk down to the gentle bit, a few slopes down. Oh. The humiliation. It took me the whole morning to go down the one run, I fell that many times! I leave La Flegere to go meet my instructor at adifferent slope? area? at La Tour. The next couple of hours, we're on the baby slopes and she teaches me to make sure I balance well on both feet... imagine this in a French accent..."you must make sure you ba-lance on both your feet, relaxed and knees bent.... like a mongkee..." (les sange). 
The next coupleof days my mantra as I'm up on my board is "be a monkey, be. the. monkey." sad to say, it does work! To an extent..... So. I learn how to turn on the front edge of the board (in my case, left- as I'm goofy-footed- right footfront, left foot behind) and turn right on the back edge of the board. I'm starting to enjoy the feeling of sliding on the snow, the little kids zooming around on skis and snowboards, and even stacking it on the snow. There's a couple learning to ski at the same little area and I amuse everyone by falling at the guy's feet acouple of times. I ask for lessons with the same instructor the next morning. Meet the boys at the chalet, and matt and I go out for dinner.
W stop at a cafe ('La Napoleon'- ergo French food, non?) which seems to be staffed entirely by Aussies in the kitchen and kiwis on the floor. (oh, the irony). Matt and I had one of the nicest meals we've ever had. They gave us some yummy fresh bread with some sort of grains in it, and some balsamic vinegar and the grassiest olive oil to dip into. Matt got his mitts and mouth full of bread, of course.
Then our mains came. Matt had a rack oflamb, tender pink, with some spinach and ricotta 'gnocci' in a dollop oftomato sugo and some red wine sauce. I ordered a steak, with "cafe de parisbutter" (butter flavoured with garlic, parsley and orange) and escargot. Bet you're surprised, eh?
Matt's meal was yummy, and he really liked the'gnocci'. I LOVED my steak. it was charred and crispy on the outside, and ever so slightly rare on the inside. The butter was tasty (couldn't pick the orange) and the snails scattered on the plate just added to the melange(heeheehe, I'm taking French lessons soon, can you tell?) of textures. AND my meal came with a big bowl each of perfect potato wedges and a green salad. we finished off with some digestives. Matt had drambuie and I hadthe most foul tasting liquor- Poire Williams . Ewwww. it smells like pearshad been dissolved in gasoline, and tastes like gasoline. not one of mybetter choices. Matt sees me taking big sips (the faster I drink it, the less I taste it!) and not wanting to be outdone, shots the rest of his drambuie! Show off.
Anyway the rest of the trip was beautiful- I had my next lesson on a very sunny day. Guys, I wish you could see it- the snow just made every othercolour seem so sharp against it- the perfect, cloudless blue skies, the granite colour of the rocks, the various frozen dog poo.... the dogs roam free and happy amongst the streets and resorts of chamonix- their ownersmust be shop keepers as at the end of the day, you see dogs scratching at shop entrances, looking to be let back in for the night.
That day, I learnt to link my turns. You need to keep going in an S-shape,down a slope. Going straight just makes you go faster and faster. Well, I had progressed to the stage where I could stay on the board, but not turn quickly enough. So- my falls were rather spectacular- or should I say splat-actular. I ended up smashing into it and getting snow in my pants, in my shirt and up my nose. The snow trapped in the waistband's the worst. It all gets stuck between my pants and my poor stomach. eek! At the end of my last day on the slope I was almost sad that I couldn't keep doing this. I say almost.... as I hobbled off to wait for the bus.
This trip was great for another reason, though- it was our last night in Chamonix and we were out having a beer on the restaurant terrace. They were packing up as it was 8pm on a Monday night- but you look up, and it's dusk,you're surrounded on all sides by those beautiful mountain peaks. The air's different; the beer's flowery (special Mont Blanc beer- this one had coriander and orange blossom in it) and people are walking past chattering in French. "Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore" just kept popping up in my head. It really sunk in. I wasn't in Australia, there is nothing in Oz like this anyway and... that's fine. It was a perfect moment. I can only hope that I have many more like this in the upcoming year.
Well- as an afterword- I'm walking fine- have a few bruises but am doing great. Slightly sunburnt along my nose but that's it. I'll stop here. Hope you are all well.
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