Chamoneeeeeeeee

In contrast to the outgoing, emphasize everything with the hands Italy, we've entered the world of the delicate French, where the language sounds a little prissy. Sounding a little like "excuse me while I speak as prettily as I can," the words end in " we we" or "dwa," "eau," "eee," and "elle."  Pardon, merci, Bordeaux, Louieeeeee. Very dainty.

Even so, there is nothing dainty or prissy about the range of mountains just west of us here in Chamonieeeeeee. Mont Blanc itself, although the highest mountain in Western Europe, is unimpressive from town. The summit is a rounded mass of snow and ice, with the actual elevation undetermined since it changes year to year based on snowmelt.  The latest surveys show it to be 15782 feet, which towers over the town of Chamonix at just over 3000 feet. Much more impressive to look at are the Aiguilles,  french for needles, which form a ridge above the valley  resembling the blades of a sharp saw.

The first successful ascent was accomplished on August 8, 1786. First woman to the summit, 1808, by Marie Paradis. Since then, it has become very popular as a snow and ice climb, with 20,000 ascents every year. An airplane landed on the 100 foot summit in 1960. After one accident caused by an avalanche where bodies couldn't be recovered, they were disgorged at the bottom of the glacier up to 40 years later.

So heavy is the use of the most popular climbing route, portable toilets were placed at 14,000 feet in 2007. I speculate that in 2047, hikers at the base of the glacier will be stepping around piles of frozen sheeeeeet. 

The balcony here at our little chateau looks out directly onto the entire range, from the needles to the massive bulge of the completely white and snow covered Mont Blanc. If we had more time here, I would be tempted to make a go of climbing something. As it is, we are hiking the various trails around the valley which provide awe inspiring views. 

We've been to a French supermarket to purchase the fixins for a home cooked meal, the first in six weeks. Laura cooks, I do the dishes. Tomorrow we may make a train trip over to the Eiger, just because I was so impressed last time I saw it. Or there is a world climbing competition downtown in Chamonix. We watched practice this morning and it's like watching a fly climb a brick wall.

We hear of floods in Denver, Rockies collapse, high gas prices. But here in Chamonix we are still trying to adjust to our sixth language in six weeks, so that when we hear Bon jour in the morning we can respond with something more than wee wee.