After our big night out in ADH, I popped back over to LDA for a hair of the dog demi with Dan and Arron, which turned into another much larger night than expected but I won’t bore you with the details and hopefully the horrendous photos that were taken that night will never surface, we can add them to the list of reasons why I am not planning on pursuing a political career. Having woken up in the van, absolutely melting and with a mouth like sandpaper, I knew it was time to head north to Chamonix or else I’d run the risk of never leaving the bosom of the mother land aka the Southern Alps. With a quick and painful detour back up the 21 bends to retrieve some of the stuff I’d left in ADH the night before, I started the 4 hour jaunt up towards Mont Blanc. I’ve done that trip so many times, and every time I ask myself why I don’t get a good nights sleep the night before I embark upon it, and every time I tell myself it’ll never happen again, and every time it does.
After 4 hours that felt like 8 and a number of water stops to rehydrate my raisin like kidneys I made it to Cham, I was having dinner that night at Lil’s and Eliot’s house but they hadn’t finished work yet so I decided to head down to my old office- Crystal HQ- and see who was about. I’d spent 3 years working from that office and it will always feel like home going back through those doors. Luckily for me my old pal Cat still works there and as 5pm was approaching she was more than happy to feed me some leftover airport welfare snacks from winter and listen to my stories of the south. She was most amused to see and smell the state of me, just like she always was when we worked together. Cat’s always been a hero, we’ve been friends for absolutely donkeys years (she even named her cat after me) and have shared many a bleak weekend at various minuscule and ill equipped regional French airport ‘sheds’ dealing with operational nightmares such as diverts, rock falls, air traffic control strikes etc etc etc etc, the list goes on. She’s also one of the most forgiving people I’ve ever had the privilege of calling my friend, one night in Chamonix when I was newly single I went on a tinder date with a teeny tiny Argentinian chap named Felipe. The date wasn’t going well, so I pressed the abort button and called Cat who was having a wine with another very forgiving pal whom you shall hear about a lot in the coming posts- Beccie. They both dutifully arrived within minutes and thankfully I was able to share the burden of the most awkward date in history with my giggling gal pals. Somehow the conversation got onto Mayan ruins and Felipe and Cat (who is married to a fabulous man FYI) were so deep into the topic Beccie and thought it was an ideal opportunity to back door it and head to another bar ‘in search of cigarettes’ leaving Cat and Felipe engrossed in the ancient history of Mexico. Don’t worry, she wasn’t there too long, she too back doored it and made a break for home, and she also forgave me- which is the moral of the story.
Beccie and Cat supping on some local plonk and Abi the Cat, named after me as a symbol of Cat's devotion to me
Anyway, after a lovely office catch up it was time for me to head off down to Lac Gaillands, my new parking spot within a stones throw of Lil’s and El’s pad. Us 4 (Lily, Eliot, Beccie and I) were some of the original Chamonix vegans back in 2017 and have remained the best of friends despite me leaving the mountains the following year, so it’s always amazing to reunite eating something fabulously vegan and catch up on whats been crackin a lackin since we were last together. Thankfully I wasn’t the only one who’d had a big weekend so wine was off the menu and we had some healthy veg and I retired for my first ‘wineless’ night in the van in a fair few days.
Lil’s was off the following day so we’d made a plan to do one of the hikes I was desperate to tick off my bucket list up to the old Aiguille de Midi mid station. It’s a fair whack of a climb, probably around 750m of ‘up’ as it’s known in that part of the world, but we barely noticed the gradient cause we were so absorbed in our chat! The hike is stunning and you get amazing views of the valley all the way- there’s loads of natural wonders to stimulate the senses, huge old trees, moss covered trails, waterfalls and quick flowing streams that Opie the dog loved cooling down in. Lil and I had a lot to discuss, her and Eliot’s wedding was meant to be in August 2020 but due to Covid they decided to postpone until the following year so we had a much needed opportunity to refine hen do plans and discuss the finer details for the day itself. Living away I always seem to be in the wrong place at the wrong time when it comes to wedding planning so I relished the chance to get creative and share ideas with Lil about their special day.
Before we knew we’d made it to the mid station, it’s an incredible spot and totally worth the trek. The old buildings are now covered in graffiti which isn’t necessarily fitting with the mountainous landscape surroundings but it certainly adds an interesting flare. It reminds me a bit of the Byker Grove set from the old British TV show, not sure why, but there’s an air of forgotten stories of glory in those walls and you can feel the vibe in the atmosphere. We did what everyone does and climbed inside the old building to take some photos and have a mooch. After a short break sat on the side wall soaking up the views of the valley we started our descent into town to find a much needed pizza, the first of many as pizza gradually evolved to become my staple diet.
You barely noticed the Covid situation in Chamonix, the only regulation at the time was to wear your mask in the centre of town which didn’t feel too restrictive at all and was probably necessary considering how busy it was. It was clear the majority of the French were sticking to the Covid friendly staycay option which was great for the businesses that had struggled during the lock down.
I don’t know what had got into me but I was clearly in exercise over drive and committed to a kettlercise session on the athletic track in Cham, all the usual suspects were there and we had a fab session patiently observed by those stunning majestic mountains that frame the skyline of the valley. That view, and just being there in Chamonix always makes me miss that place I once called home, the people I called family. There’s nothing like a mountain view to stir up deeply buried emotion and wonder why I made the move to the desert, but in my final year there my soul was stirring and I knew I was being pushed to seek adventure elsewhere.
After the class I was due to head up to Beccie’s for dinner, the both of us had been too pre occupied all day to brave the shops but we managed to fashion something pleasantly edible out of the stocks in her fridge and of course we cracked a bottle of the local rouge to wash it down with and toast our exercise efforts of the day. Beccie and I used to live together in the most wonderful apartment in town, we were totally inseparable for my last 3 years in Chamonix and we literally never run out of things to talk about, so one bottle of wine turned into 2 before we decided to call it and go to bed. It had started to rain when I headed back to the van in the dark and I totally forgot I’d left my water bottle in the house. By the time I remembered I was inside under the duvet and I couldn’t be bothered to go back and get it so I just allowed myself to pass out. In the past I have been referred to as ‘the camel’ because I’m never seen without my trusty water bottle, one of my biggest fears is feeling dehydration (I have many fears, that’s just one of them) and I’ve had nightmares about dying of thirst. Needless to say after all the exercise and plenty of red wine I woke up about 3am absolutely parched and started to panic, I couldn’t go back to Beccie’s and wake her and her surrounding neighbor’s- which would surely happen as Roo her trusty dog slash miniature pony would raise the roof on the approach of a late night door knocker. Hearing the rain drops noisily on the roof gave me an idea, so I went full Bear Grylls, opened up the side door and licked the juicy rain water dripping down the panels of the van. That tided me over til morning. Kinda.
Morning view from my parking spot by Beccie's house in Les Moussoux,
certainly worth licking the van for...
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