What a freakin’ ordeal!! I thought the French train system was supposed to be one of the best in the world!
The plan was to take the train from Cannes to Grenoble, then get on a bus to Alpe d’Huez to visit Adam once more (he’s now cheffing up there). This is a three hour journey.
After a series of untranslated French messages and a whole lot of waiting I was in Grenoble, five hours later than I had expected. The bus station had closed. Grenoble doesn’t have a youth hostel. The cheap hotels are not exactly cheap but I stayed in one anyway (after walking around a lot trying to find a cheapest one).
The next morning the bus didn’t come, and I had to wait and wait for even longer. And finally I made it to Alpe d’Huez, twenty-four hours later than I had expected!
The view was looking great!
View from Alpe d'Huez
Adam was living in an apartment with eight other people, all from the land of Britannia. They were all on contract from a company called SkiWorld, and along with nine others, they managed and ran a small hotel and a number of chalets in the town which catered to British skiing tourists.
I was here to catch up with Adam and to hopefully snowboard! Little did I realise that 1) the weather wasn’t all it cracked up to be, and 2) everyone who works here is in a constant state of boozing. They get up to be at work at 7am, work ’till 10am, ski or snowboard ’till 4pm, work again until around 10pm, then go out drinking to 3am almost every night! So the first night I was there I was whisked off to various bars around the village and everyone ended up frightfully drunking pretty fast – even though the beer was very expensive. That night ended with everyone eating these horrible takeaway dishes called the Americana which is basically a foot long b agette stuffed with meat patties and covered in fries, which in turn covered the floor of the apartment. Filth!
The following morning we awoke and after work, Adam and I set out to fix the bindings on his board so I could ride it. This turned out to be a right mission. We wandered up to, perhaps, the only place that does Burton gear to find just a single screw – they didn’t have it. We were able to, though, get a cool view of the ski field which is amazingly huge!
Ski Field
Soon it had become 2 o’clock and it seemed like no one had the screw and it wasn’t going to be economically viable to buy a daily ski-pass for just two hours. So we flagged it and headed back to the apartment to hang out. And that’s about how it was for the rest of the evening. I spent it watching Peep Show on DVD and the others went to work. One guy got 2nd degree burns from picking up a hot pan, another had ruined his ankle on the slopes! Horray! Hopefully the next day I would be getting out there!
The next day came, the weather was marginal to say the least. This was Adam’ss day off, too, but we just spend it hanging around again. I guess that it is nice to have a break every so often though. Later that afternoon I was getting restless, so I decided to make a break for it and walk down to Huez, the town lower down the mountain.
After walking down and around about 5 corners of the Tour de France hillclimb, I made it.
Tour de France!
Huez was a tiny little old fashioned town. Unlike Alpe d’Huez all the buildings were small, close together and old. The roads were snow covered and icicles hung everywhere. I was sliding all over the place, but was happy. It was an amazing place to explore around.
Huez Town
On my way back up (as it had taken about an hour to get down), I decided to take a shorter route. Jumping off the road I began to follow a path I found in the snow. Surely if someone else had walked up here then I could also. It started off okay but got increasingly deeper and less predictable so soon I had to get out of it and back onto the road.
Snow path!
That night it was back to drinking again. And there was hundred of people out. The craziest part was being in one bar and going to get a drink, being swallowed into the crowd of people on the dance floor and suddenly realising they were all mimes! There was about 100 mimes in full costume dancing away – so very strange!
The next day was beautiful. I was adament that I would get out on the slopes, so I flagged trying to get Adam’s gear to work and rented a board and boots, bought a ski pass and set off up the mountain with one of the girls from the hotel, Alice, who had her day off. And WOW what a mountain. New Zealand has nothing like this at all, it’s huge and the runs are perfect. We skied and boarded for a few hours then met up with Adam who was on his midday break and also his other friend.
Skiing the Mount
We had a few marvelous runs, Adam pushing me way too far, and then headed for the top of the mountain. The view was absolutely amazing, although the wind was out of control. It was like being in the snow version of a desert sandstorm!
View from the top
This was the beginning of what I was told is the world’s longest pisted run. 16km of pure down hill (well, a little bit of annoying flat at the end). It just went on and on and on and it was oh so steep, but absolutely amazing! The weather was brilliant and once we got passed the windswept ice, the snow was lush!
Giving The Gogs a real sporting time
After this run we were all totally knackered and headed back to the apartment for another easy night of nothing. I sat around watching The Mighty Boosh, then the others came back and we watched No Country For Old Men. Then, amazingly, everyone went to bed.
The next morning I was up at 6:30am to catch the 7:30 bus back to Grenoble for I was off to Paris.
Goodbye Alpe d’Huez, I’ll miss you!
View of Alpe d'Huez
