Jared Bloch
Valais, Switzerland – It is an evasion of sorts and an escape marked by sadness. My sister in-law passed away last week at the age of 52; too young a death to accept, and yet that is exactly what my wife and I need to do in order to honor the life-affirming woman that Conny was.
Leaving Geneva for the Valais
In that spirit, I headed to the mountains of Valais, invited by friends to take over their chalet while they were on vacation.
Part of me is reticent as I board the train with my faithful dog Rocky of 12 years to head off into the hills. I am not experienced at mourning, and even as I savour the Paul Auster novel I am reading on the train, I think of my love, rushing off to Colombia to bury her sister.
Only the book’s bittersweet commentary on love and loss consoles me as we trundle along through the pass from Vaud into Valais. Riders are a mixed bag of kids soaking up the European summer, moms taking their kids out to visit out of touch friends, and locals headed out to the country for some fresh air.
Upon arrival in Sierre I ask the local bus driver if I can stuff my mountain bike into the cargo hold.
Surprisingly, given the sparse traffic and large bay for camping equipment or similar, he responds that I will have to get the funicular up to Montana, and then ride down the mountain to my destination, Mollens.
Jared Bloch
Islota Bella, Lago Maggiore, Italy
After two years of budget rate hotels my family finally got to experience a night under the stars over the longPentecost weekend.
It was with much relish that I recently dusted off our as yet untested 4 person tent aired out our musty sleeping bags lying dormant and still smelling of desert sand and sagebrush, for a weekend foray into Lago Maggiore, Italy.
Jared Bloch
Reading recent news from Georgia, I am reminded of my stay there and the freshwater oasis where I escaped from the disheveled city center.
Tbilisi Sea – a reservoir outside of the city and an instructive tour of Soviet era Georgia.The lake was excavated in the 1940′s or 50′s as a water source for Tbilisi. It became a sort of resort area for Russian tourists and well to do Georgians. Amongst the relics are a sort of cement terrace promenade overlooking the lake, and the shell of a former luxury hotel.
Jared Bloch
Somewhere in a box of photo albums transported implausibly around the globe, is a picture of me at 17 years of age, with all of youth’s beauty and ignorance written on my face, and a Russian rabbit skin cap with the ear flaps down, slapped on my head. When I imagine that picture now, I think I don’t look that different, but then again, none of us do.
Jared Bloch
Sledding on Christmas Eve in Nendaz
Nendaz, Valais Switzerland – Up until two weeks ago, I had not been sledding for 7 years, and even that was a relatively “wimpy” adventure (with my then 3 year old daughter in tow).
For the first 12 or 13 years of my life, sledding (the adjective as opposed to the verb “sliding”) was a means of surviving the long and unforgiving winter doldrums; it also mitigated somewhat the reality that in Northern Vermont, everything goes up, before going down.
When I suggested to my parents (still living in Vermont, US) that we could visit the snow covered Alps during their holiday visit to Switzerland they were lukewarm to the idea – they do in fact have more than 100 expletives to describe the process of snow removal.
To my nostalgic sense, this is the whole point of the winter season, to learn to enjoy what would otherwise be a cold, wet existence.
Finding a Christmas rental in Switzerland
Sometime around mid-November I began searching for accommodations for my family including my parents, a sister-in law, and a nephew, for the week around Christmas. While the usual English language classifieds were a first stop, I ended up as I often do when shopping, looking through the ads on Annibis, a French language cornucopia of goods and services offered in Switzerland and neighboring France.
Looking for a dog-friendly hotel
Unfortunately, many of the B&Bs and chalets advertised as available, had been either been reserved by that point, or were unable to host our 11 year old German Shepherd, Rocky, as part of the family.
Preparing for a trip out of town, and in a panic to consolidate our Christmas plans, I resorted to plan B – I posted a picture of Rocky on Anibis, along with an ad for dog/family friendly accommodations in the mountains of Switzerland.
Somewhat to my amazement, I received at least four responses to the posting immediately, including one from the proprietor of a small B&B in Nendaz, Valais, just outside of Sion. The owner wrote back that the Toko Pilo Hotel could gladly provide private accommodation for my family including our dog during the week of Christmas for a modest sum and that they had just received several inches of new snow! – Plan B successful, “Operation Snow” in motion.
My memory of, and love for knee deep snow, is selective, my parents remind me as we drive from Geneva to Nendaz. By the time we reach Chamonix (we have taken the scenic route) I am nearly salivating in anticipation of the snowbanks awaiting us in Nendaz.
As we wend through the Chamonix Valley, and climb the pass at La Châtelard, the wall of snow on either side of the road makes for a narrow luge channel; my heart is singing.
Finding Nendaz
View from the Toko Pilo Hotel
A short drive up the valley and my spirits lift as we again climb again through improbable Valaisan villages propped on cliffsides and draped in magical white powder.
The greeting at the B&B is warm, complete with a decorated tree, reminding that Christmas is wherever family and friends gather to bring good cheer.
I wake early the next morning and walk through the town of Nendaz. The old village is surprisingly genuine, with local cafes, a bakery and a dairy. I savor the smell of livestock and hay wafting from a few of the centuries old barns in town.
Among the other gifts exchanged, my Stepmother, Rebecca, has given a red plastic flying saucer to my daughter, that I am anxious to road test.
As we clean up wrapping paper, I rally the troops with a challenge to trudge up the hill leading out of the village in search of a good sledding hill.
We step outside into a crisp night lit up by the full moon. This is the Christmas tradition I remember, plodding uphill through knee deep snow to launch snow boats off perilously steep inclines, each run packing the trail a bit harder and smoothing the course to an icy polish. The hill we happen upon is out of the way enough to seem like our own private snow kingdom.
View from the Sion Castle
Christmas Eve in the Valais, Switzerland
The magic is intensified by the brilliance of the moon, the presence of family, (my sister-in-law Conny and nephew Juan Pablo, whom have never seen snow before), and the gleeful shrieks of my daughter who is now old enough to enjoy the terror of careening through an empty field at midnight blinded by a spray of ice crystals and happily resigned to the fact that by the end of the night, her boots will indeed be full… of snow.
Merry Christmas!