Last weekend, three of us loaded our boots and baggage into my little
Renault Megane, a red one this time, and set out on a ski adventure to
Val d'Isere, a famous resort just two hours from Grenoble. Well, it's
normally just two hours. We got to talking and managed to miss a couple
of turns here and there and practically ended up in Geneva Switzerland.
But we eventually arrived at the village, located in a steep and rugged
valley formed by the Isere river, the same river that eventually winds
its way to Grenoble. The once world-famous skier Jean-Claude Killy won a
record three gold medals here during the Grenoble Olympics of 1968. I'm
guessing he won Gold for the Slalom, Giant Slalom, and Downhill. Those
are the only ski events that come to mind anyway.
As I mentioned, the town of Val d'Isere is at the end of a valley.
And, as I see frequently in France, the roads through these valleys
are often carved out of the shear rock cliffs. This, too, is the case
with the road to Val d'Isere. We quickly located the Tourist Office and
we agreed to a centrally located hotel that met our needs. I'm not sure
exactly what the rate plan was called, perhaps it's the
stick-it-to-the-skiers rate plan, but each person in the hotel room was
charged 123 Euro. Yes, we're talking four hundred bucks for a night in
ski town. Yikes.
Based upon some past experiences we felt it wise to have a dinner
reservation. So we asked the very kind woman at the desk for a
restaurant recommendation and help with obtaining a reservation. She
suggested the farm house on the edge of town, a 15 minute walk, known
for its fondue. Ok, how about reservations? "No reservations are
needed" she said. We found the farmhouse without difficulty, entered,
and informed them of our desire to be fed. "Reservation?" we were
asked. "No reservation" we replied. And without further inquiry we
were seated by the kitchen door. Ok, not too bad. We had the huge
stone fireplace to ourselves and, well, we didn't
have a reservation. We had a great evening with many laughs and the
fondue was excellent. The hell with blood cholesterol!
We hit the slopes shortly after 10AM. Lift tickets are cheap--under
$40--slightly more than I would pay to ski an ice-covered hill in New
York. From the ski lift boarding point, a short walk from our hotel,
the Olympic gondola quickly whisked us several thousand feet straight up
the mountain.
A few chair lift rides later and we were deep into ski country and ready
to conquer the mountain, on the easier intermediate slope I
might add.
We quickly worked our way into more challenging runs and as the runs
got harder the legs got weaker. There were no lift lines and no time
for my unconditioned legs to recover.
At
1PM it was time for a quick bite to eat. We took up residence
on the sunny deck of a stone chalet-like restaurant at the 9,000 ft
level and enjoyed our lunch accompanied, as usual, with biere and vin
rouge. 
TWO
HOURS LATER, as the day was waning, it was time to demonstrate our
new-found, alcohol-induced courage. Ha. We managed a few more runs, our
most challenging and sloppiest of the day, and headed back to the hotel
to clean up prior to our short drive back to Grenoble. After all,
Monday was a workday and all of us were looking eagerly to another fun
day in the office. (yeah, right)
We
left for "home" at 7PM. At 7:10PM we came to a stop. Traffic jam.
There is only one road in/out of the resort during winter so what could
we do...we waited...and waited. Oddly, the traffic really wasn't moving
much at all. A number of travelers gave it up and apparently returned
to Val d'Isere for dinner. We waited some more. Finally, we decided to
try to learn what was up. We had a GSM phone and a phone directory from
the Tourist Office and we began to make calls. GSM phones work just
about everywhere, unlike our limited-range, supposedly leading-edge cell
phones we're used to in the USA. We first called the local radio
station. No answer. Then we tried the municipal police. Busy. The
Gendarmerie (national police). Busy. Next on the list were the taxi
companies. "No, we don't need a taxi". We tried another taxi, and
finally...success.
Unfortunately,
they didn't speak English, and we don't speak much French and the call
ended with us still with no real clue as to the problem. Hmmm, now
what. We waited some more and then, out of desperation, we began trying
to get info from the people walking up the road. One mademoiselle spoke
enough English to get the point across to us: A rock slide had covered
the road and it would not be open until the next morning, at the
earliest.
So, back to our $400/night hotel.
Another night. Another restaurant. Another "Reservation?". Another
"No". Another seat by the kitchen. But we were beat and had to
eat. We grabbed a few more rays from the sun deck the next day and left
for Grenoble as soon as the road opened at 1PM.
The photos, obviously, do not even begin to describe the magnificent
views of the Alps.
And, no, we did not go to work on Monday. And, yes, we were the talk of
the office on Tuesday.
I'll complete this rather lengthy monologue with an update on my stop in
NYC yesterday (April 22). I was booked at the Waldorf-Astoria on Park
Avenue. This is a beautiful hotel with a long history. It has been the
NYC home to all the presidents dating back to Hoover. Winston Churchill
and Grace Kelly have stayed here (seperate rooms) as well as countless
movie stars and other famous people. Now, I'm not making this up, but
last night the Waldorf hosted the International Modeling Convention.
Over one thousand models had control of the hotel. I tried to get into
the Grand Ballroom, for reasons of historical interest, but was unable
due to this convention. Each model wore a number. I considered using
the fax in my room to forge a pass into the Ballroom but chickened out
and elected to sit in the lobby most of the evening. In case anyone is
interested, this convention occurs each Easter weekend at the Waldorf so
make your reservations early!
