An Alpine Vacation

Brela Beach - Corsica

In the month of August the Orsoni family was heading off to Corsica.  Oncle Louis’s family came from the island. There was a seasoned cottage with simple amenities where the family spent their holiday.  It was decided that I would NOT join them.  As I remember, the thought was the facilities were too primitive for a delicate American girl.  Instead I spent a month in Megève, a village in the Alps with Tante Suzanne’s sister and family.

Here's a map of France.  See Megève in red near the border with Italy.  Corsica is the island at the bottom right.

Megève today.

The Orsonis dropped me off on their way to the Mediterranean.  Megève is a picturesque village surrounded by mountain peaks. The Maquins (Tante Suzanne’s sister and family) had rented a chalet for the month of August. 

This chalet reminds me of the one we enjoyed.

After a discussion it was suggested I call Madame Maquin, “Marraine" which means “godmother” in French. The family included 5 children that came and went during my stay. Their married daughter, Thérèse, her husband, Pierre and their two little children spent the entire month.   I remember feeling that the little ones were at the same level linguistically as I was. I played “house” and “store” with them.

Thérèse and children: Jean-Michel and Sylvie.

We did a lot of hiking around Megève.  Sometimes we found les fraises des bois, wild strawberries or les myrtilles, miniature blueberries.  I remember we made a tart with the blueberries that turned out a bit too runny…but delicious.

Hiking around Megève.

Me in saddle shoes, Michèle and Pierre

A pastry chef at work.

Une tarte aux myrtilles

There was a swimming pool at the Club de Sports and some days I went for a workout: 100 laps.  From my journal, I see that I did a lot of reading and Marraine taught me how to knit.  I began a sweater for my Father in a soft brown wool.  I sent it to him for Christmas although one sleeve was considerably longer than the other.  This became a standard family joke.

The pool at the Club de Sports

The crowning event of that month was a three day trip into the Alpes with Michèle, the second oldest daughter in the Maquin hierarchy. The previous winter she had lost her husband, Guy, on their honeymoon.  He had been killed by an avalanche in the Alps.  Nevertheless, she wanted to go back up into the mountains. It was as though she wanted to be closer to him. This trip necessitated renting special climbing gear: coats, pants, cleats, a sleeping bag and a backpack.

Here we are taking off on our adventure.

There were 8 people in our party: 2 male guides, 4 men, Michèle and myself.  The main guide was thin and wiry, with a long white beard and sharp deep-set blue eyes. He led our group and the other guide brought up the rear.

La Mer de Glace

We started out taking a cable car and then headed out into the snow.  The path went down to the glacier: La Mer de Glace (The Sea of Ice which is 7 Kilometers long and 200 meters deep) and then we hiked up the glacier.  In the afternoon we scaled a vertical cliff and arrived at the Refuge de Requin where we spent the night.

Le Refuge de Requin

A couple managed the refuge (shelter) and spent the entire summer there.  Once a week someone hiked up and brought them provisions. That night about 20 people were spending the night. It was an international group and many languages collided in the crisp air. We all ate a supper of soup, bread, cheese and chocolate.  I remember setting the table and helping with the dishes.  We bunked down in an upstairs room, all in a row on the floor in our sleeping bags.  I slept next to the guide.  As he snored away, I looked through a round portal at the full moon. I felt like Heidi, the heroine of a favorite childhood book.

The upper area of the Mer de Glace where the snow is being pressed into ice.  You can make out those crevices in the ice.

The next morning we climbed to the upper part of the Mer de Glace.  We were all attached at the waist with a rope. This was the most frightening part of the trip for me.  As we made our way down, we had to jump over deep crevices in the ice that were hundreds of feet deep; the walls, an icy blue. I was attached to a portly man and I thought if he fell down into the crevice, I would surely be pulled along.

At some point we found ourselves in a more civilized area with hordes of tourists who had come up on a cable car.  The spot marked the tri-point where France, Italy and Switzerland are co-joined. However, the actual spot must be at a higher elevation on Mont Dolent.

Mont Dolent

The entire experience was wonderfully amazing and terribly frightening.  I still ask myself why alpine enthusiasts climb mountains.  I found this quote from the famous Scottish climber Tom Patey (Apes and Ballerinas):

"If everyone made a point of remembering Darwin, we might be spared a lot of mountain philosophy and psychoanalysis...'Why do you climb?'...'Because it's the natural thing to do.'"