FT Article: Bonding at Chamonix
Date of publication: 12 January 2008
Writer: Arnie Wilson
Arnie Wilson experiences life as the secret agent of the slopes but wonders if he quite pulled it off.
Although James Bond's creator, Ian Fleming, could certainly ski, his 1963 novel, On Her Majesty's Secret Service, drew a certain amount of affectionate criticism from members of the Ski Club of Great Britain.
It was pointed out that in one incident, Bond skied almost 7,000ft vertically, non-stop and virtually flat out in moonlight. And then there was his "crowning achievement" - his Gelande -sprung over the railway tracks "to escape his would-be assassins". "What other members of the club," asked one correspondent, "would like to attempt this, even if young and fit, at the end of a 7,000ft descent?"
When one is invited to sample a "James Bond" experience in the mountains of Chamonix, it is an intriguing prospect. But having put my host, Dean Pollen, to the test, he got off to a disappointing start. As we purred up the Autoroute Blanche towards the dizzying needles of the Mont Blanc massif, he suggested, rather to my distaste: "I thought we'd stop off for a pizza en route."
"Pizza?" I chided the amiable Mr Pollen whose company, Pollen-Brooks Leisure, offers five-star "alpine indulgence" in and around Chamonix. "I don't think Bond would have been impressed!"
"You're right" said Pollen. "Let's go to Munchie. It's a really nice restaurant run by some very pretty Swedish girls." This was more like it. Bond would definitely have approved. I had nori rolled salmon and scallop tataki for a mere €10, followed by slow-cooked filet of salmon, with shichimi fried squid, julienne vegetables and Ponzu beurre blanc (€19). I was now set for a spot of Bond-style derring-do, taking a helicopter to the top of Le Petit Combin, across the border in Switzerland.
The next day Pollen put the Bond adventure into action: some late-season heliskiing. We drove across the Swiss border to a field full of lush green spring grass where an equally green Ecureuil helicopter awaited us. We were joined by our guide, the diminutive Nick Parks, who, before the day was out, would earn my gratitude and admiration.
We landed excitedly on the Petit Combin (12,041ft) one of the Swiss peaks used regularly for heliskiing (banned in France, hence our border crossing). The snow was good, and there was a satisfying couloir, tough enough to be challenging but with enough snow to be exhilarating. The problems started around half-way down the 2,000 metre descent to the tiny hamlet of Fionnay. Nothing serious; we just ran out of snow. This meant we were forever taking off our skis to walk in steep, muddy grass or pockets of slush, or putting them back on again to ski for the odd 20-yard stretch of surviving snow.
When Parks suggested a detour up a slippery grass slope to reach a snowier adjacent valley, I was already drained of energy.
He grabbed my skis and carried them up and over the next steep ridge. I felt immensely relieved but also ashamed. What had happened to the macho Bond spirit that had propelled me down that couloir?
Would Bond ever have allowed anyone to carry his skis for him? Guides are used to carrying clients' skis. I just had to recover from the fact that I had let him. I tried to restore my pride by reflecting on my journey down the couloir which, I like to think, had been bullet-like.
Sloping off
The Hamlet of Chalets Philippe is sold through Pollen-Brooks Leisure (enquiries@pollen-brooks.com 01344 849 135) with a fully-serviced package including dedicated, chauffeured 4x4 vehicles, airport transfers, chalet staff, champagne reception, afternoon tea and haute cuisine. Lift passes are ready for guests on the first morning, rented skis and ski boots are delivered to the chalet the evening before. Prices start at £1,420 pp for Chalet Les Grandes Jorasses; smaller chalet prices on request. Private plane and helicopter transfers may also be organised.
High anxiety
Chamonix claims to be the third most visited natural site in the world. And even if you don't ski, the journey from Chamonix to the craggy eyrie of the Aiguille du Midi in the two-stage cable car is unforgettable and one of the most spectacular in the world.
The cable car, which opened in 1955, soon became a firm fixture on the European tour. Building a lift which soars so steeply towards the granite spire guarding the Mont Blanc massif was a seemingly impossible feat of engineering. The triumph was tinged with tragedy.
The steel cable, more than a mile long, had to be carried up by 20 mountain guides. Two of them died in the process.
At the top, the exit is linked by a causeway to the beginning of the legendary Vallee Blanche, one of the longest off-piste runs in the Alps.
Depending on your level, there are three or four principal routes, and a guide is essential.
All the routes involve a hair-raising trudge down a ridge to a flattish plateau, carrying your skis and probably roped to other skiers.
This unnerving beginning puts many people off doing the run itself.
The views are overwhelming. As you descend this vast glacial valley you will pass an astonishing array of towering cliffs crowned with needle-sharp peaks, huge seracs (broken blocks of glacial ice) the size of houses, and desolate moraine (ridges and mounds of glacial debris).
Or you can simply take the cable car back down again.