France
Quittin’ Tarentaise: A Maker of Vacations goes on Vacation
Dear Faithful Reader:
My most heart-felt apologies for having left you with no news for well over two weeks. I assure you that during this period I have not been “on vacation” but designing vacations: namely Puglia, the Cinque Terre, Tarbes and Spain for Pomegranate Journey’s 2011 season, among other destinations. And since my business is the vacations of others, I find it difficult to be on vacation without working or researching a special location. And I have found a gem in the Tarentaise.
The Tarentaise is the valley of the upper Isère river in the French Alps. After the publication of our article in the 
Dauphine Libéré, the hosts at Chalet Merlot and Chalet Pecchio asked me if I’d like to come see their residences in this valley. I accepted the invitation willingly, and was awed by the natural beauty of the mountains, the construction of the Chalets and the gracefulness of the hosts, Nick and Margret.
The Tarentaise is the natural environment for the Tarine cows (a highly preserved breed in the French Alps) and is also a destination for skiers in the wintertime, with the popular resorts of Tignes and Val d’Isère (among others) along the upper part of the valley (Haute Tarentaise). Yet, the summer calls for mountain biking paths, hiking trails and white river rafting. The location makes for an exceptional holiday when skiing in the winter (there are approximately five resorts within 20 minutes of the Chalet), or 
cycling in the summer. There are routes taking the advanced biker (or advanced at heart) over the Col d’Iseran, Col du Petit San Bernard, and the Cormet de Roseland, to name a few. The chalet has a traditionally tasteful decor, fitting it in perfectly to its Alpine surroundings. When thinking of chalets in the French Alps, snowy peaks and warm fiery images flicker to mind. And no doubt, the glaciers were still white in August, and there was enough chill in the air that even on a few summer nights, a warm fire was a warm welcome.
However, there is nothing that compares to the warmth of the staff during the seasons. Whether summer or winter, Nick and Margret are exceptional hosts offering pick-ups from the train station, fresh baked banana bread for an 
afternoon snack, and a cool glass of Chignin Bergeron at the evening aperitif. Nick was generous enough to barbecue for the group on the last night of my stay. Grilled pork, chilled rosé, engaging conversation, all made for an excellent stay.
My sincere thanks to the staff and friends of Chalet Merlot and Chalet Pecchio. You all made my stay an enjoyable weekend. Again, special thanks to Nick and Margret for their unparalleled hospitality, to the point where it made leaving the Tarentaise a sad moment for this author. Yet, I look forward to seeing you all again with bikes and skis.
Laying down the Loire
The Loire has been described as “the garden of France:” a velvety-green countryside speckled with an array of eye-catching castles. From up above, these castles would probably assume the allure of elaborate gazebos and elite garden sheds. Up close, they are an incredible example of the wealth and prosperity that reigned in France during the 14th and 15th centuries.
But, you don’t have to be a king to vacation in the valley. Thanks to the numerous retired couples in the area, the chambres d’hôtes are a relatively cheap and romantic way to lay your head down in the evenings. These chambres are typically old 18th and 19th century farmhouses renovated and developed by couples who have the time to dedicate to them. They are a type of romantic B&B with modest prices, and there is a great network of them here. The chambres are well kept and don’t have the cold “business” atmosphere found in typical hotels. They are, generally, a stay in someone else’s home, complete with cotton comforters, garden
tulips on the table, and fresh bread and confiture at breakfast. The highlight of it all, however, is the conversation: the owners have plenty of stories about past guests, the history of the farmhouse or unique itinerary ideas that you can’t find in any guidebook.
Les Salamandres, for example, is a sleepy farmhouse in Montlivaud – a tiny village just 15 kms away from Blois, along the Loire river. Martine and Jean-Claude make excellent hosts, and Martine’s morning brioche is just as flavorful as Jean-Claude’s comical 
spirit. Montlivaud was a stop for pilgrims along the way to Compostelle ever since the Middle Ages. The 12th century church in the middle of the village is the only structure disturbing the peace for the early hours matins and the evening vespers. No wonder why Pomegranate Journeys has chosen this quaint yet characteristic village as the beginning of their Loire Valley bike tour. It is close to Blois for a delicious meal, yet the evenings are cool and quiet to rest the legs and the mind.
No matter what your draw, give in to the Loire.
Movie Mondays: The Villa Roseraie
Provence is soft and warm, yet cool and breezy; a mix of sun and shade. It’s the smell of the hay fields and the perfume of anisette Forcalquier Pastis in the evenings. It’s the sound of cicadas at midday, of children out of school, of the Festival de la Musique on the 15th of June, and of the Mistral: at times soft and gentle whispering through plane tree boulevards, other times harsh, wailing banshee-like through the ruins of medieval towns.
Provence has been well known for centuries as the artistic inspiration for masters such as Van Gogh and Matisse. But Munch, Monet, Picasso, Cezanne, and Renoir also found a stroke of genius in this rich and sensuous region of Southern France. If you have never been, go. And if you go, stay in Vence at the Villa Roseraie: a charming inn which delivers the veritable Provence through the decor of its rooms, the abundance of its fare, and the warmth of its hosts.
Max and Laurence purchased the Villa Roseraie five years ago when it was practically in ruin. Through their hard work and dedication to preserving the look and feel of this inspirational region, Max and Laurence have managed to turn this late 19th century aristocratic villa into one of the most extraordinary hotels in the Var. The fresh pain au raisin each morning, accompanied by warm café in the tuliped gardens by the pool, is a memorable way to begin the journée. The rooms are cozy and comforting, warm and inviting. A stay at the Villa Roseraie is more a stay with friends in the countryside than a night in a hotel. And I assure you, at the end of your séjour, Max and Laurence will become your friends, and they’ll look forward to your return.
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The Dauphin: More than just Flipper
If you spend enough time in the French Alps, you’ll see a curious sight: dolphins. Not in the Lac de Bourget or the Lac d’Aiguebelete, but instead on buses, public announcements and the coat of arms. You’ll see them in the local paper and at summer festivals. For some reason there are dolphins all over most of the Savoie region (Southwestern France) despite that this mountainous area is miles and miles from the sea.
To answer this slippery question as to why there are so many marine mammals in the Alps, we need to look back at the Middle Ages. Needless to say it was a time of fluctuating political boarders, as armies of Franks and Arabs fought over control of Provence. In 855, Provence became a kingdom ruled by a man named Boson, who also ruled the areas of Vienne, Lyon and the Alps. Over the next 100 years, this enormous territory was annexed to the Kingdom of Burgundy, and its lands stretched from Basel all the way to the coast of the Mediterranean. In the 12th century, the feudal struggles within this vast area left three permanent political divisions: Provence, Haute-Provence, and the area then known as Southern Viennois which belonged to the Court of of Albon. Within this Court, there lived Count Guigues IV, whose middle name was dauphin.
From the House of Albon (and later branches of the House of Savoy) the title of “dauphin” implied a blood connection to Count Guigues IV and the nickname was thus passed on throughout the
lineage. As a result, the area surrounding Vienne, Lyon and the Savoy became known as the “territory ruled by the dauphin” – or the dauphiné. Although France’s blue-blooded monarchies lost their heads in the 19th century, the politico-geographic delineation of the dauphiné is still felt in the artistic renditions of delphinus all over the public scene. Even major sporting events in the area have the same title. The Dauphiné Liberé, a popular regional newspaper, decided to sponsor a one-week bicycle race just after the end of World War II. This bicycle race, held in June every year since the ’40s, was initiated by the regional newspaper – just like the early beginnings of the bigger bike races. The cyclists would ride from town to town over the course of a week, and as a result, the locals became more familiar with the paper, and more subscriptions were sold. Yet this critérium also became a test race for riders and for the press to test their communication systems before July’s Tour de France. Naturally, many winners of the Tour de France have also competed and won the Dauphiné Liberé, such as Armstrong in 2002 and 2003. I guess for every great rider there is a greater “porpoise.”
Movie Mondays: the Tour de France Beyond your Television Set
It’s Monday. I should be doing some accounting, and (if you’re an accountant) so should you. But since the beginning of the work week is often faced with grunts and groans, I’ve decided to publish a video every Monday. This way you’ll be able to see what I’ve been up to the past week and you can click on it all week long. Maybe by Wednesday you’ll desire to get outside, or eat fresh pasta, or watch the Tour de France. Of course, you wouldn’t want to watch the Tour de France from your television set – it’s quite a rush to be on the course as the Tour comes through town.
That’s what I did last week.
Some friends and I were along the Col de la Madeleine early in the morning, before the riders came through. Then we rode down to La Chambre: a little village where the race passed before finishing in St.-Jean-de-la-Maurienne. If I could describe the atmosphere, ‘electric’ would be weak. Yet, that’s the idea. Watching the Tour de France from the side of the road is like standing out in the field as an electrical storm is approaching. You feel the buzz around you: the thunder of the helicopter blades, the winds of the Caravan and the press cars as they whiz by. The people along the road are all in jubilation: a time for locals to sing and children to play; the town is decorated in green, yellow, white and red polka-dots representing the winning jerseys. Suddenly everyone is fixated on the hillsides as the racers zig-zag down the switch backs – like a bolt of lightning – waiting breathlessly as this tempest approaches.
And then it strikes.
In a flash everyone screams and claps and pictures are snapped. The people along the side of the road squint as if in a downpour of riders to see who is in front, to find their favorite, to see how the battle will play out in the end. Again another flash of cyclists shortly behind the first, this one even bigger; the crowd cheers louder and louder as the racers fly through the middle of town. A few more hits, and then it’s over: a calm comes over the village and everyone returns to their television sets to see how the race will finish 15 kilometers down the road. An exhausting day, watching this technicolor storm pass in front of your eyes.
This video is for my brother (in-law) in Massachusetts, who is a fan of these bike races, and for Fi: who never started watching them until I made her do so. Thanks again to Leather Zoo for the use of their song “Stranger” (that’s the background song, not the accordion music).
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Living on the Edge: Life along the Côte d’Azur
There is something about the beauty of the Côte d’Azur that inspires more than a simple look in an easterly direction. Anyone who has walked along the crimson cliffs overlooking the emerald sea knows there is a magnetism about this ‘little’ part of the world that holds the viewer to deep meditation. It’s unlike visiting the Eiffel Tour: a man-made construction – in it’s own right a marvelous structure – yet far from the immensity that the farthest southern coast of France can offer. The Eiffel tower has a harmony that was planned by humans; the Emerald Coast has a harmony based on contrasting elements.
The red cliffs dive down into the azure sea, yet the trees grow sideways as they try, over the course of 
their lives, to battle against the Mediterranean winds. The land along the coast is flat, accommodating runners on the Esplanade des Anglais in Nice, and strollers and evening lovers on the coast in Cannes. But go inland no more than 5 kilometers and you have steep hills, protecting the villages of Grasse, St-Paul-de-Vence, and Vence. It’s no surprise that towards the end of the 19th century great impressionists like Cézanne, Renoir and Monet found inspiration in the movement of these stationary elements. Later in the mid 1900s, the surrealist sculptor and architect Chagall used these same contrasts to become one of the most influential figurative artists of the 20th century.
Murray and Lynn were equally inspired by the landscape. They spent a few days biking around some of Southern France’s most challenging – yet most beautiful – countryside. One of the most wonderful features of their vacation was the fact that they did as they saw fit, making their own choices. Whether it was a delicious meal in Nice’s historic center, or walking through the open market in Vence, they were able to see the countryside at their own speed.
Thanks goes out again to the subjects in the video: Murray and Lynn, I was warmed by your enthusiasm especially when the weather wasn’t cooperating. Your good spirits and laughter made this an excellent adventure in France. Next time I’m in Toronto, I’ll be sure to let you lead.
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Good Winter Riding
Just a year ago I was living my adolescent dream of playing in a British punk band. I met Leather Zoo while managing a Snowsport Team in Livigno, Italy. We were trapped in a three-bedroom apartment located above a stall housing about 300 cows. The smell was very natural and organic, but after four months, a little fresh air was needed. So the Zoo (the band not the cows) invited me to Sheffield, England where I filled in for their drummer who was unable to make some of their UK venues. For two weeks I lived a dream. One of the venues – The Packhorse in Leeds – was a major venue for little-known up-and-coming bands of the ’60s and ’70s such as The Who and Led Zeppelin. After flying into Midlands Airport, I had five 
hours of rehearsal before our first gig that evening. Fleur de Lys was the first song we played that night and it has stuck with me ever since. Leather Zoo often tours around Europe every summer and fall so try to catch them when they come by. Their sound is organic and raw, drawing on a number of personal experiences and talents that the band possesses – especially the allusive “Mr. Woddy.” They are excellent people, awesome musicians and amazing athletes. Mel and Biff have quite a history of cycling behind them – but both are too modest to talk about it.
Thus, when I was out the other day on my classic ride, this song came to mind. It reminds me of spring and the sudden liberty felt after a long, smelly winter. This route is simply a spin around the Lac du Bourget just outside of Chambéry, France. The climbs aren’t too severe (not like the Col de Colombière or Col de Galibier for example), yet the Col du Chat and the Col de la Chambotte are challenging enough after a winter of downhill skiing. Little known is the fact that the Lac du Bourget is the largest and deepest natural lake located entirely within France. The 
poet Alphonse de Lamartine was inspired the lake’s magnificence in 1820 and wrote “Le Lac, addressing questions such as the futility of the past, human memory and love; only the beauty of the countryside can conserve these “souvenirs” better than any poet. I couldn’t agree more. This bike ride around the lake retains some of the greatest memories of my life. Often I’d bike it with a friend who has since moved back to Massachusetts, but the ride itself is always a trip down memory lane – I’m never riding it alone even when I’m by myself. And so I hope you enjoy this film of the ride and my Leather Zoo soundtrack.
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La Thuile: The Best Skiing in both France and Italy
Contrary to popular belief, ski instructing is not an easy job. Its fun but not necessarily easy. First of all, you’re in charge of ten skiers whose aptitudes are unknown to you. There’s one general rule concerning their abilities: if they say they are advanced they’re usually intermediates; if they say they’re intermediate they’re usually beginners; and if they say they are beginners they usually have never put on a pair of skis in their life. Over the next four hours you spend about an hour-and-a-half standing around: someone has lost a glove, someone needs the toilet, someone has the giggles and can’t go on, etc. At the end of the afternoon you have about one hour to ski on your own – which isn’t a lot if the lift lines are miles long. You grab the last cable car to town just in time to get in a happy-hour beer – and that slides you into a coma. You trudge off to the hotel for a quick shower, dinner and a nice book before passing out like a toddler on a road trip. If you’re younger than 27 of course you’ll go out, get wrecked, and pay the price the next day. But hey, that’s your business. I like to sleep at night since I know I have to do the same thing all over the next day.
The busy week is the reason why we ski on Sunday. Sunday is the official day off and no matter how shattered legs and minds can be from the prior week, we rally to wake up early, get the boots on and spend a day skiing – preferably at another resort. So Kenny, Steve and I went to La Thuile: 30 minutes from Courmayeur by bus where the skiing was top-notch. Situated along the French-Italian border in the Aosta Valley, it is a huge resort connected to La Rosière on the French side (just above Bourg St. Maurice on the South-facing side of the mountain). What does this mean? It means 150km of piste as well as some of the most spectacular off-piste in the Aosta Valley (in my humble opinion). You can get a ski pass for both sides (read: the whole mountain) but keep an eye on the weather: at 2650m the top of the Piccolo San Bernard has been known to host zero visibility conditions, strong winds and winter storms. In the summertime you can cross the Petit St. Bernard with hundreds of cyclists looking to imitate the Tour de France racers (the “Grande Boucle” came though last year touching the Grand St. Bernard on the other side of the valley and then the Petit St. Bernard all in one day). Regardless of the season the Piccolo San Bernardo is a great place to hang out for outdoor fun.
Getting to La Thuile is easy: there are numerous buses from Courmayeur and Aosta that go directly up to the ski station or drop you off in Pré St. Didier from where you can take a second bus up the mountain. I would link in the schedules here but SAVDA (public bus system) hasn’t updated them online. The buses run about 30-45 minutes apart. Just don’t travel on Sundays or around lunch time – you may get stuck for a few hours.
When in Pré St. Didier stop by the Tennis Bar (owned by Stefano Amatori). You’ll find it chock full of skiers enjoying an après-ski afternoon/evening/late night and Stefano plays some of the greatest music including Warren Zevon, Boston, and Blue Oyster Cult (well I think it’s great). The Tennis Bar is a good time if you’re on your way out of – or into – La Thuile. We were able to stop there on the last night of our stay in Courmayeur. The video below documents our “fun-day” of skiing without students in La Thuile. It’s nothing more than a neat little film and a good memory I shared with some excellent friends. I hope you enjoy it.
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An Alpine Guide for Your Pocket: Cycling in the French Alps
Its nice to hav
e friends that do cool things. But its also nice to have cool friends. Paul Henderson is one of those and his book, Cycling in the French Alps (Cicerone), is as much a testament to his extraordinary life style as it is an incredible compilation of magnificent biking routes. The routes are as varied as the roads themselves, taking you through the Savoie, Haute-Savoie, Drôme and Ventoux regions of France. Just reading the itineraries makes me breathe hard. Paul is from Durham, England (so its [pawl] not [pol]) yet has been living in Savoie, France for a long time. Over this period Paul has skied, climbed and biked just about every nook and cranny in Southeast France, most of Provence, and a good part of Italy, Corsica, Australia and other continents. His personal list of accomplishments is endless but thankfully just the French Alpine cycling routes are compiled in one book: a must for anyone who is looking to spend a week, a month or a summer biking in the Alps.
I appreciate how Paul is able to touch upon the “dreams” as well as “misconceptions” of cycling in the Alps. These are important factors that most of my guests seem to forget at times:
For most cyclists the French Alps conjure up images of the great champions of the Tour de France…Of course, mountains do not have to be snow-capped giants to provide worthwhile cycling. Many lower-areas are criss-crossed by quiet roads that meander through varied landscapes of open pastures, dark forests, deep gorges and unspoilt villages. The scenery is just as beautiful as in the high mountains…When cycling in the mountains, the amount of vertical height gain is a much better indication of the difficulty of a route than the distance covered. The circuits were planned with this in mind…
Personally having ridden most of Paul’s routes, I can attest that the views from these “minor” mountains are just as beautiful as the better-known giants. What’s even better is you’ll never find the crowds around the Col de Granier that you would find around Galibier, which makes the riding eve
n sweeter. The book is brimming with all kinds of useful information I’d only expect from Paul Henderson: from hints on taking bikes on the trains to lodging suggestions to useful websites and spectacular photography to help you visualize the itinerary (which could sometimes bring you to some rather remote locations). The itineraries themselves are highly detailed with route directions, elevation maps, hints on getting to/coming from, when to go and climate stats, paper map suggestions, as well as where to find water, campsites, hotels, banks, bikeshops, and cafés. He’s even included useful French phrases (since the author is also a full-time translator I wouldn’t expect anything less). Having done a number of Randonnée Ski Tours with Paul, I can attest to his level of detail and dedication in the mountains. The same applies to this guide: a fundamental tool for biking legendary circuits in the French Alps.
Competences et Talents Part II
A few weeks ago I posted an entry on the Compétences et Talents visa issued by the French Government (that you can find here). The interesting part is that after you’ve taken care in preparing an outstanding project and presenting it to the French Consulate in the states, you need to do the same thing over here in France. But the trick is, you have to reprint everything all over again. My friend Erin had mentioned it was necessary to have the original project on hand in order to complete the process over here. So when I was in the states I had asked the Consulate if I could have my original project description back (Erin was given hers back). However, the French Consulate said “absolument pas.” According to them, the whole point of going through the rigorous visa process is to facilitate the applicant’s integration in French society once they’ve arrived on French soil. So all I needed was the letter from the Consulate General, my passport, passport pictures and proof of residence. And then within a few weeks I’d get my carte de séjour.
They were a little wrong.
I don’t blame the French fonctionnaires for knowing so little about what is necessary to get the visa; this process is all new for them too (in fact, I’m the second person in Boston to be accepted and the first person in Savoie to ever apply for this visa. So both entities seemed a little perplexed on how everything actually worked). In the end, it depends on which Département you eventually live in, but wherever you end up, you need to go to the local Préfecture with the following documents:
- The letter from the consulate general that issued the visa in your passport.
- 4 official pictures.
- Original birth certificate and photocopies.
- The official Titre de Séjour application.
- The medical examination application
- A copy of the original application project, all pages, materials and photocopies of them.
- Proof of residence.
Of course this list may change depending on the Département, but as a general list this is what is needed. What’s surprising is that although the visa was meant to make things faster and easier, it takes just as long as anything else. When I dropped off all the documents on the 10th of January, the woman behind the glass said it would take a good month/month-and-a-half to get any kind of carte de séjour out to me. Wow. Good thing I got it in the system when I did.