Verbier for Christmas

Note: this is a VERY long post, but covers an entire week and is full of fun details :)

22 December 2008 (Monday)

I am with my family!! This is the best Christmas present I could ever have asked for!!

I left my apartment yesterday morning around 8AM and was at the train station in plenty of time to catch my 9:04 train. I got on uneasily, though, as the destination listed was not Geneva and no where did it list Geneva as a possible descent. But I was told this was my train and the numbers matched, so I boarded anyway.
I ended up sitting next to a very nice British woman (from Liverpool) and her daughter who had been living in Lyon for the past 8 years and were flying home to see family in Liverpool for the holidays. We chatted in English and figured out how to do our unexpected train change in Belgarde together. Then continued on and changed trains again in Geneva to head, together, to the Geneva airport. She was a delightful woman, though her daughter was very shy and barely spoke 5 words the whole ride— and when she did speak it was so quiet you could barely hear her. We parted ways in the airport as they headed off to catch a flight and I went in search of something to eat before I met my family. I grabbed some chips and a cart to unload my heavy, wine-filled bag in and headed towards the arrival place. It might be worth mentioning that prior to arrival in Geneva I was slightly worried that I was going to get some trouble at the boarder for bringing 6 bottles of French wine into Switzerland- at the very least I was probably going to have to pay some sort of tax. But thanks to marvelous accords between France and Switzerland “customs” was really just walking through a hallway from the track to the main terminal with a couple of gendarmes standing there- no passport check, no nothing. Woohoo!!

I knew I had some time to wait, but I was too excited to sit still enough to read. I needed something mindless… I pulled out my phone and played quadrapop- a stupid game where as the shapes fall you need to get 4 to touch each other and then they pop. You lose if they stack up- like the loser version of Tetris. I could only handle that for about 20 minutes; then I basically started pacing the airport. The flight was delayed and I had to wait for them to get in and go through customs (apparently Brussels and Switzerland aren’t on as good of terms as France and Switzerland). Once their plane was finally listed as having arrived I plastered myself to the window looking into baggage claim and waited, impatiently, until I could see them. It seemed like an eternity. As I waited I talked to the people around me, waiting for their friends and family to arrive. One French woman was waiting for her son to arrive from Brussels- the same flight as my impatiently awaited family. A British man and his daughter were waiting for some other woman on a flight from London. He and his daughter had a chalet in Verbier and said it was wonderful this time of year. The little girl was very excited about it. J

FINALLY, Regan popped into view and waved at me, then Mom came over, then Dad, then EJ. They searched for their luggage and I waited behind the glass, as eager as ever. At long last they collected all 5 suitcases, snowboard bag and all carry-ons and walked through the last hallway to each give me a hug. J

We moved on quickly to catch our train; so while Dad bought our train/train/bus tickets to Verbier I ran off to grab baguette sandwiches for 5 starving people, myself included as it was now about 1:15 and my bag of chips was not exactly holding me over. We grabbed our sandwiches and our tickets and hurried off to catch our train. There was some questioning as to whether or not we were about to board the correct train, but once we were sure we took the effort and loaded 5 suitcases, one snowboard bag, 2 carry ons, 1 duffle bag full of wine, 3 purses, 1 backpack, one computer bag and 5 weary travelers onto the train… well, 4 weary travelers, I was riding a new high, kicked off with the site and then hugs of my family. J

We took this train through the mountains, taking photos out the windows when possible and laughing the rest of the time. The 4 of them were exhausted, Regy actually fell asleep for a while on the train; but I didn’t care. Being with my family, actually seeing them, hearing the jokes and the teasing, hugging them and smiling with them… after three months away from the people I love most in this world, this, to me, was the best Christmas present I could have ever asked for!

But it wasn’t over yet. On the contrary, we were just getting started. As we approached our train change we knew we would have little to no time exit before the train would leave the station again. In fact, we already watched one man run back on in haste trying to get another suitcase he had mistakenly left behind only for the train to depart and he and his forgotten suitcase were then stuck on the train. So we prepped everything by the door and when we pulled in we unloaded through two separate doors as quickly as possible. Nicely done. Then we carried everything to another train track and loaded it onto another train. This one went winding through even more mountains with even more beautiful sites to see.

We arrived in La Chable, the village in the valley between several of the Alps’ beautiful peeks. We then grabbed the bus and zig zagged up the mountain side to the Verbier.

We transferred all our luggage once more from the bus to a taxi, picked up the keys and, at long last, trudged up the last few stairs (which, to those who had been traveling for approximately 24 hours, seemed like many more than just a few) to our own personal Chalet. This, for the next week, would be our new home.

As everyone started to get settled it became apparent that Christmas was truly only just beginning! They had so many treasures from home for me!! My hiking boots, my brand new snow boots, a pair of beautiful heels, sweaters, Christmas and birthday presents from Aunt Susie, Uncle Tom and Uncle Dave (and Uncle Scott, Aunt Donna and Aunty Karen obviously), a new external iPod charger (as my iPod no longer holds more than about 15 minutes of charge ever), and the greatest card ever- on which my mom, dad, brother and sister can all be heard wishing me merry Christmas all the way from home! This last one I promise I will listen to until it wears out and the recording fails to work. Such wonderful things!!! The stuff from home, despite it already being MY stuff that I had owned and used previously, seemed just as new and magnificent and fun as anything else. Regan took great care in bringing my knitting along, and that too, made me ridiculously excited! It was like, with every item we pulled out of suitcases, there was something else for me to get excited about. J

At long last we decided that food was required before they all crashed. We bundled up and headed up what we decided to call the “Hill of Death” or, in French, the “Colline de Morte” (a steep hill that seems to be consistently covered in ice/snow that we must walk up/ down to get in and out of our Chalet). We truly walked into the first restaurant we saw and sat down. We ordered off their slightly too expensive menu and made our slap happy way through dinner before coming home and crashing. Even I was tired and we were literally all in bed by 9:30.

Waking up in Verbier is one of the coolest things. At 7:30 I got out of bed and stood in the living room looking out the amazing view; the valley in front of me seemed to have been filled with a soft puffy layer of snow. In fact it was clouds. We were above the clouds and looking out the window, down across the valley and to the snow-covered peeks on the other side. My Dad woke up and joined me in taking in this amazing site.

I then went in search of some breakfast essentials such as coffee, juice and croissants. Easily enough found, I grabbed a few things and headed back to our chalet for a leisure-filled morning.

We finally got moving as a family and headed out to explore the town. We got fitted for our rental skis and visited a church in town to get some info about Christmas mass, wandered the streets and grabbed tasty pizza for lunch. As the sun started setting in the late afternoon the temperatures dropped from the beautiful 37ish (Fahrenheit) to getting a touch chilly and thus we made only a couple more stops to pick up new sunglasses- proper for skiing- for Regan and I, a new Swiss Army knife for EJ, and some nice cheese to go with some great wine… then headed back ‘home’.

We continued our relaxing first day of vacation with wine, cheese, and a scrabble game. Too bad 90 % of French words have 5 million vowels and very few consonants… it was kind of rough to play English scrabble with French chips. But a fun adventure nonetheless. After the game we whipped up left-overs plus grilled ham and cheese sandwiches for dinner. We played another family game, a dice game called Left, Right, Center, and chilled a little more before calling it a night as we were expected to hit the slopes… or at least pick up our skis, at 8:30 the following morning. Everyone decided that it was best to have a full, clear head about us as we take to these quite serious slopes tomorrow.

26 December 2008 (Thursday)

After what has been an exciting 4 days of skiing Dad and I turned in our skis today. Regy’s went back on Wednesday night and EJ, of course, keeps his snowboard and might even extend his pass another day to get a few more runs in tomorrow.

So, what have we been up to, here in the Swiss Alps? Well, I will tell you.

Tuesday morning we went to pick up our skis and meet Regan’s and my ski instructor, Maria. Not only was she a great ski instructor, but she was trendy enough to have dangly earrings that matched her ski jacket perfectly. She, along with her instructor in training, Tom, took Regan and me over to the bunny hill. No joke. When we told her we hadn’t skied in 10 years and only once or twice at that, she thought it was the best plan and Regan and I heartily agreed. We did a crash course (though truly we only fell down a couple of times) in skiing including how to side step up the hill, how to plow down and how to turn. We got the gist of balance in the skis and even used the T-Bar a couple of times. Maria assured us that we were doing great and was excited to see our quick progress. She took us back to the main lift from town where we met up with Mom and the boys. As we popped in for a bite to eat EJ and Dad told us about their morning of ski fun. We weren’t really sure what the menu had to offer as, even with my French, it seemed highly foreign. We all followed EJ’s lead and ordered what we thought was going to be some sort of dried beef sandwich. Note to self, don’t follow EJ’s lead when it comes to ordering food. The waiter brought us each a large cutting board covered in dried beef with a pickle and a tab of butter in the middle. Umm, what? We each ate a little of what was in front of us before asking it to be packaged up so we could take it home for snack food another day. Then we took to the slopes yet again.

This afternoon started a little more challenging that this morning. EJ and Dad said they’d take us to a nice flatish easy (Blue colored—translates to Green in most US ski resorts) part up on the mountain. Regan and I were nervous but excited to try out our morning’s education on the real thing. We took the Madran lift (which my dad mistakenly calls the Medrone just about every time he says it J) up and looked down on what looked to be a scary start. Regan decided that a combination of left over jet lag and a morning’s workout had left her too tired to attempt the run without causing injury and decided she’d join up with Mom back at the Chalet instead. So EJ, Dad and I headed down. It really wasn’t too bad. Yes, I fell down, but as my dad likes to say, you’re not working hard if you’re not falling down… while it might not always be the case, it certainly made me feel better. By the end of the run I was tired but proud! I had conquered Verbier!! Well, part of it. J

We came back to the chalet and Mom whipped up some delicious pasta for dinner. Then, after a nice little nap, the siblings decided it was time to get to know what Verbier’s nightlife had to offer us. First we headed to T Bar, a nice little place that usually has life music. As it so happens, Maria had told us she would be singing there this evening. Our nap had put us a little behind schedule, but we made it there in time to hear her last couple songs and then for a little post-performance chat. As the bar started to close down for the night we wondered where the night would be leading us and the answer seemed to pop up right in front of us. A girl was standing not 10 feet from us in front of was we presumed (wrongly as we discovered later) was her boyfriend. The guy had a bottle of white wine in his hand and we was trying to get her to drink it straight from the bottle. She seemed reluctant and embarrassed as she kept looking over at us. Finally she gave in and took a swig, spilling some down her chin as she went. Then laughed and came over to us to explain herself. This, she informed us, was a sweet, not very good white wine that needed to be finished. She handed the bottle around for everyone to take a swig in an effort to help her hopeless cause. In fact, the bottle went around twice and then her non-boyfriend finished it off. “Where were they headed for the night?” was EJ’s question and the non-boyfriend informed us that Coco’s was the place. If we mentioned his name, Will, at the door then we’d get in for free. Sweet. We finished our drinks and were only a few minutes behind them.

Now, Coco’s happens to be the swankiest bar in Verbier, an already expensive and exclusive resort town, where they serve a 12,000 franc (pretty much equivalent to 11,000 dollars) drink. It comes in an ice sculptured chalet- you drink out of the chimney. So when Will saved us the $20 per person entrance fee we thanked him profusely and EJ promptly bought him a shot. It was at this point that I decided it was best (for me, my tired and sore muscles and mostly, my wallet) if I stopped drinking. I’m more of a dancer when I go out anyway. But EJ, Regan, Will, and his non-girlfriend Amy all continued to drink the ridiculously overpriced (but rather tasty) cocktails. I sipped a little passion fruit martini and some absolutely amazing raspberry mojito. Amy, at some point, was given a Heineken by Will and when she didn’t wanted it was handed off to me. Not to be the waster of alcohol, despite my general opposition to beer I took it down anyway. The same fortunate experience also occurred for EJ as Amy passed him a beer. How generous.

We took to the dance floor for no where near enough time to satiate my dancing thirst but enough time to enjoy myself, certainly. And then as the bar manager came in to check on things for the night and thus putting a kibosh on the free drinks for Will and Amy (don’t get me wrong, EJ and Regan were still paying full price), we left the swanky Coco’s and headed around the corner to yet another bar. Will got us in for free once again (although I’m not sure there was actually a cover here… just a line that we skipped- nice friends, right?) and we went inside to continue the evening. It wasn’t long before Will and Amy peaced out and EJ found a new friend to talk to. Sam, the guy who had helped us with our boot fittings the day before, was at the bar. EJ and Sam started talking as Regan and I got more and more tired. Eventually we made it home, but not before EJ could secure a free waxing for his snowboard, which had been real dry and sticky. EJ’s good at making friends.

We arrived home around 3 am exhausted but pleased with our late-night excursions.

Wednesday was Christmas Eve and we hit the slopes again, well rested (we got a rather late start, as to be expected from out late night out) and ready to go. EJ and Dad took Regan and me over to another blue section on a different mountain side. Or so they claim. Regan and I both contest that they took us down some pretty Red looking sections (that would be the 2nd level… I think that’s ‘blue’ in the States). They were much much steeper than the nice easy trail they had taken me on the day before and Regan and I both took more spills than previously. Having an extra few afternoon’s worth of practice under my belt it wasn’t too bad for me, but Regy struggled and by the end was beyond exhausted. Getting up is hard work too!! There was only one last treacherous section to do in order to get to the lift that would take us back to the right side of the mountain where we could catch our bus home. We didn’t all make it down that last short section… well, at least not all on skis. EJ and I headed down the last section only to get to the bottom and look back up wondering where our partners in crime had disappeared to. Eventually we saw Regan walking down the hill with Daddy carrying her skis… again I think an umm, what? is in order.

Apparently we missed Regan take a fantastic header into a large snow mound that separates the ski section from the sledding section. Her skis did not pop off as they most definitely should have and instead she twisted her knee. She hobbled down the mountain and as we headed home, she put ice on it right away. I will save you the suspense- She is fine. After a couple days of hobbling around she’s back to her old self, but as vowed that skiing isn’t really her thing.

We all went to a great steak place called El Toro Negro for dinner. EJ was the brave one and had the “Mixed Grill” a platter that included beef, lamb, ostrich and kangaroo. “When else am I going to be somewhere in the world where I can eat kangaroo?” he asked us as he chose and ordered. Dad, Mom and I all went with a traditional steak, which sounded FANTASTIC to me after missing out a good quality, well cooked, delicious beef for the past 3 months. Regan had duck in honor of Nana, who does it fantastically. Everyone was highly pleased with their delicious dinner, accompanied by great wine and, of course, great company. J

We stopped back at home briefly in between dinner and Christmas Eve mass for a little drink and some fun stories. We eventually headed down, then up- as the streets permit, to get to the church. The service was in French, which was culture and fun for those who hadn’t been living in France recently, and was made even more so by the presence of a couple of Spanish guys here on some sort of University project. They sang and played most of the holiday songs in a very mariachi band sort of style. It was fun. The best part, for me at least, was actually walking up the streets to the church. The bells were ringing and I couldn’t help but think of that line from Chocolat where the mayor invites Vienne to “worship with us on Sunday” and Vienne responds, “that’s very kind of you but we don’t attend. But we will enjoy being so close to the church, the bells will be beautiful.” And then the mayor responds with the line that is pertinent, “The bells are not meant for entertainment, Madame, they are a call to worship.”

Walking up that hill (correction: mountain side), listening to the bells as they echoed around the valley, it was a beautiful and almost breath-taking experience. But not only was it beautiful to hear; it was beautiful to think that we were being called. Unlike in the US where people seem to get to Christmas mass 30 to 40 minutes ahead of time in order to get seats for you family. We were at the church 10 minutes ahead of time. And as we walked towards the church, people were filing in with us. The bells had called all these people, from all over the mountain village, to worship. And here they came, just in time for mass to start.

At then end of the service we returned home and despite the pull of Coco’s swankiness, where Will would be working and could potential dole out a few choice beverages, we all stayed in and enjoyed each other’s company instead. We did Christmas, as we say in our family- which means, of course, that we opened presents. As the trip itself was really the present there were only a few things, mostly stuff EJ and Regan and I had gotten for each other plus the stocking presents- socks, etc. It was nice, light, and fun. Then we stayed up until 2 am telling stories and laughing. When I went to bed that night/ Christmas morning, I couldn’t help but feel blessed. What more could I ask for? I had received the best Christmas present of all time- and no, I’m not referring to the socks. I was with my family. After 3 months away, after going through a rough period of homesickness (which I’m almost positive will have its resurgence in the days or weeks following their departure), here they were. All of my family, my favorite people, whose company I was free to enjoy for the holidays. I had to have fallen asleep with a smile on my face.

We slept in on Christmas morning as no one thought it decent to set an alarm. Regan and I woke up to see snow falling outside our window. EJ’s wish for fresh snow had come through. Regy went back to sleep and I got up, brought my blanket and pillows into the living room, and knit while watching the clouds roll in and out of the valley and the snow fall off and on. It was beautiful. Eventually Regan, Mom and Dad all got up and joined me. Then just as we were discussing breakfast plans EJ came shooting out of his room and then just stood there, hands on hips, looking around at everyone wide eyed- as someone would who had just bolted out of bed. Regan merely smiled and said, “It’s snowing.” To which EJ replied, “I know!!” then turned to Dad and said, “Where’s your gear let’s get going!!” We all laughed then as with a quick exchange EJ and Dad were going to be heading off shortly, but only after “maybe a little breakfast?” (a question directed at Mom, who already had the eggs out of the fridge and was ready to get started.)

The boys headed off to enjoy the fresh snow and the ladies stayed at the chalet for the morning, relaxing and enjoying the hot chocolate I had bought in Germany in October when I was there and had saved for this trip. We eventually got dressed and did a little window shopping/ walking around town. It had cleared up and was yet another glorious day. We returned to the Chalet to cook the Christmas dinner.

Seeing as how I missed the wonderful American tradition of Thanksgiving, and most importantly, my mom’s stuffing, we had decided to do turkey, stuffing and mashed potatoes for dinner. We bought green beans as well, but forgot to cook them. Oh well, it’s always something… if it’s not the rolls, I suppose it should be the green beans. The magnificent sausage stuff was everything I wanted it to be and I was thrilled with our meal! We had even stopped at a Patisserie (pastry shop) and picked up little individual tarts- a couple Pecan and a couple Raspberry- for desert. Mmmmm. What a great Christmas!!

We hit the hay slightly earlier this night, having exerted so much energy on the slopes and having been up so late a couple of nights now. So by 11:30 or so just about everyone was in bed. EJ and Dad did take the time to enjoy a nice cigar out on the balcony before calling it a night.

That brings us to Friday. The plan of attack was as complicated as ever. We were going buy Mom a one day pass and we would all head up to the top of Mont Fort, the highest peak in these parts, at 3330 meters- about 10,925 feet. We took 4 different lifts to get us all the way up there and between the bitter wind and the generally cold temperatures it was chilling to the bone. But breath-taking and amazing. I took enough pictures that I was forced to warm my hands on some vin chaud (hot spiced wine) before heading back down the mountain. EJ decided to be brave and snowboarded down. The rest of us were sane and took the lifts.

Dad and I got off at one point and skied that easy section down again. Mom and Regan only beat us to the bottom by about 10 or 15 minutes and then the 4 of us grabbed some terrible sandwiches from a quick place at the bottom of the lift before headed over to the toboggan run.

Now, EJ, Regan, Dad and I had all seen the toboggan run on Wednesday while out skiing. It looked… a little scary. And we all laughed in agreeance that Mom would freak upon viewing it. But it was going to be fun and she seemed excited about it, so despite our half-joking warnings that it looked pretty sweet but a little intense, the 4 of us (EJ was still snowboarding around the other part of the mountain) headed up to the start of the run. We rented toboggans and I know I was unpleasantly surprised to realize that the ones you rent are the old-fashioned looking wooden sleds that use your feet for steering and breaks… great. We got ourselves set up on the edge of the first section and, scared as I’m sure we all were… well, at least I was, we headed down.

Fail. Steering is NOT easy. And when you put your feet down the snow comes up and hits you in the face!! Sunglasses and a hat were not enough… we should have all had ski masks and ski goggles. Mom’s glasses kept fogging up and there was truly no real way to control your speed. It was rather terrifying to be honest. You come barreling down this track with either the snow bank on one side or the much steeper slope of the mountain on the other. It was only a matter of time before Mom and Dad continued down the run on foot and Regan and I made plenty of stops to catch our breath and de-ice our faces. At the end of it all Regan decided that tobogganing was awesome and that she’d rather do that again than ski any day. I agreed that it was a fun time, but I preferred the control of being on my feet instead of my ass as I went down the slopes myself. Mom was just happy to be safely headed home.

We dined in the chalet on pizza and left-overs, which was delicious and easy after a long day. EJ recounted his adventures on “that mont fort thing”, which was apparently much more difficult than he anticipated. But despite spending most of his day on the Black slopes he made it down in one piece, though not without the exertion of a lot of effort and energy. He crashed early and the tobogganing 4 were left to play a game of cards. And as the rest of the night passed leisurely, each person reading or, in my case, journaling, for personal enjoyment, we all, one by one, headed off to bed after another long but exciting day.

27 December 2008

We leave Verbier tomorrow morning. I’m feeling a little sad at the idea that my parents and my brother will be returning to the States in 3 days. And really it’s only one day… tomorrow we travel, Monday we get to hang out, and then Tuesday they leave. One real day. L But it’s been so wonderful!!

Today was a good end to the week though. We had a nice leisurely day. EJ snowboarded a little more but the rest of us stayed in, did a little shopping, and relaxed. Everyone got massages in the afternoon, which was wonderful. And then we went out for one more dinner. We went to a traditional Swiss place. We had looked at a few menus for dinner earlier in the day and Dad got all excited about Roqulette, a dish he had eaten many years earlier and remembered as being delicious. I remember eating it 3 years ago in Normandy- its potatoes baked in a special oven with melted cheese over the top. They can, in some circumstances, be topped with ham or other meats. We found a restaurant that had roqulette and made reservations for the evening. When we got there we quickly realized that I was the only person that was going to be able to communicate with any success with the staff as no one spoke English. We ordered appetizers of escargots (Dad) and lobster bisque (the rest of us) and got some good wine. EJ, Regan and I ordered fondue bourguignon, which is just like the oil fondue we do at home for New Years, only with a few less sauces than we tend to whip up, but delicious nonetheless. Mom followed Dad’s lead in ordering roqulette and they were surprised to be given a wooden bucket full of potatoes and a plate of cheese. We laughed our way through dinner as we realized that they were offered unlimited servings of cheese- one small glop at a time. Every few minutes a waitress would come back to ask if they needed more cheese, would then take their plate away and come back with a fresh glop. They had unlimited amounts of small glops of cheese with a bucket of potatoes. Not exactly what Dad had remembered, but an experience to say the least. Mom felt thrilled as, for the second time, she followed someone’s lead in ordering and ended up with a less than desired result. First EJ’s cured beef and then Dad’s roqulette. Nice.


We went back to the Chalet to pack and prepare for our day of travel.