TAKING THE SLOW ROUTE TO CHAMONIX
I was told nothing in the whole wide world matches New England’s “Indian Summer”. That special period in autumn when the last rays of warmth wash the rolling mountains of Northeastern United States. That few short weeks when every leaf of every tree turns bright yellow and red just before it falls to the ground in preparation for the long, hard winter to come. The time the whole Appalachian range burns with surreal colors of Scarlet and Orange. Oh, dear. How wrong they were.
Morning in Verbier
I woke up to a chilly, crystal-clear morning in the deserted ski resort of Verbier, Switzerland. Opening the porch door of my hotel room – the only hotel open for business in this time of year – I step into the frigid Alpine morning and sip a mouthful of the cool, crisp, fresh air. My colleague and I made an 800Km Marathon from Austria the previous day just to get here for a short (and useless) business meeting. Now that it’s over, we have the rest of the day (and a rented Mondeo) to cross the Alps to the French resort of Courchevel. It’s cold, sunny, and clear as we navigate the winding road down to the valley below. I take a quick glimpse at my smartphone’s screen. The calendar shows Sunday, October 31st 2021. All I can think of is; “I wish I was driving a convertible”.
Speaking of driving. I ain’t doing any. My colleague has some trust issues and insists on holding the wheel. Perhaps it’s because I once showed him how to drift a BMW M2. I’m not usually fond of being a passenger, especially when commuting through wonderfully-swiss-paved, twisty mountain roads. Right now though, I couldn’t care much for driving. Being a passenger means I can completely soak myself in some of the finest, most exquisite Alpine views I’ve ever seen.
Ravensburg Puzzle
We stop for lunch at the Col de la Forclaz – a mountain pass just short of the Swiss/French border. It’s a warm and sunny early afternoon and the Plat du Jour at the Restaurant Col de la Forclaz looks quite decent. Sitting at one of the neatly scattered tables in the open porch provides the dinner a taste of the real main course here. No, it’s not the forgettable “Plat du Jour” (Honestly, I can’t remember what it was). It’s the view.
When was the last time I assembled a 2,000 piece jigsaw puzzle? Being a contemporary, full-time professional and family-man does tend to sap away your free time. And, come to think about it, I’m not sure that even if I had time to spend, I’ll utilize it for something so analog and old-fashioned. But now, as my eyes adjust to the brilliance of gold, red, orange, and white, I can’t help thinking of those Ravensburg puzzles I did as a kid. They always had these gorgeous, bordering the kitschy, Alpine scenery. Views so beautiful, I thought they never really existed. 40 years later, I realize they did. And what an amazing feat they are.
Get to France
We finish the plate, gobble up the cool bear, and continue to drive slowly towards Chamonix. It’s not the small influence of alcohol that slows us down, it’s the view.
They used to say a picture’s worth a thousand words. Then came smartphones and Instagram and made photos so abundant and cheap to a point of negating their importance. I take my REAL camera and snap a few as we near the French town of Chamonix. I’m happy I chose to bring my full photo gear. The grandeur of the mighty Mont Blanc is worth it.
I was told there’s nothing like “Indian Summer” in New England. I’ve seen it with my own eyes, It’s gorgeous. But it’s still not as striking as the Alps on a Sunday afternoon, during the last day of October.