Hiking in the Alps.
Off Season tips for where to go in the Alps for the best walking and hiking.
Autumn emotions
I want to grab hold of your wistful autumnal emotions, twist them around a bit, throw in a few surprises ending up leaving you with visions of blue skies and thrilling adventures. When I was committed to a daily radio show and we had children still at home, October/November could be a bit of a grind up to Christmas with long periods of grey, cold skies, afternoons disappearing too quickly into darkness and a yearning for spring to arrive. Life now is allowing us a little more freedom to think outside the box at this time of year. These days we don’t have to go into debt to take the kids on a budget package deal to the Canaries or remortgage the house for a few days in a forest log cabin with a big swimming pool and cycle trail. We can now explore the exciting world of the “off season” tourist destination.
Naively Off Piste
I don’t play golf, shop at Waitrose or ski. My middle-class credentials are non-existent, I carry them with a jaunty northern “chip on the shoulder” swagger. I can live without golf and don’t need sprouted millet and buckwheat bread but deep down I wish I’d learned to ski. It must be one of the most thrilling things to do with your trousers on. I’m too tight now to pay to learn how to break my leg but my lack of knowledge about the subject led me to a complete naivety about the ski resort regions of France and what they have to offer out of season.
Let off the leash
As a restless, inquisitive traveller I’d had a frustrating year due to a detached retina precluding me from flying and general physical activities. Once I was given the all clear I accepted with giddy glee the chance to join friends in the French Alps who were on a three week stay with their daughter and her brood. They wanted to use me and my wife Jo as an excuse not to look after their grandchildren by taking us all over this mesmerizing area. I just wanted a break and hadn’t thought about the astonishing treasures awaiting me.
Eureka!
The change in my mood was typified by the tale of two airports. I left a dour, dated and rather grey Birmingham Airport and landed in the fresh, clean, modern Geneva Airport full of tinted glass and triangular wooden architecture. Even the toilet flush smelled of pine forest. I decided to trust my weather app for once as it was crammed full of yellow suns from dawn till dusk and we headed across the border and the 35km sweep east south east to Taninges. Here we nestled for a few days in the foothills of the Alps and I had my epiphany. This was the quiet time between the end of the summer season and the winter skiing season and it was magical. Just because there wasn’t any snow didn’t mean the sky wasn’t still blue, the sun wasn’t reviving, the Alps didn’t suddenly stop being awesome anymore – it was all stunning.
Itinerary.
Taninges is a small commune with a population of 3000 in the Haute-Savoie area in the Auvergne-Rhône-Alpes region in Southeastern France. From here you can easily head up to the resorts of Les Gets and Morzine or simply wander around the nearby village of Samoëns. The places we loved exploring up and down the adjoining cols included Lac de Roy at Praz de Lys, Sixt-Fer-à-Cheval with spectacular cliffs and waterfalls and the mountain pass climb at Col de Joux Plane to Croix de Mapellet – sections of Col de Joux Plane are included in the Tour de France. We had day after day of clear blue skies, dazzling sunshine and glorious walks accompanied by the ever-present snow-capped Mount Blanc keeping a watchful eye on us. During the day we filled our souls with adrenaline and sunbeams and at night filled our bodies with cheese, red meat, wine, cheese, beer, potatoes, cheese and some more red meat.
Lessons learned.
- I’ve learned to look beyond the obvious when a resort is in the “off season” period. If it’s a beautiful area then visit it when it’s quieter and cheaper.
- I will come back on a “grand Tour” in my camper van and explore Switzerland at the same time.
- Having gleefully feasted on all the French treats, it takes three weeks of a strict vegetarian diet to recover once home.
Our chalet had a hot tub with a stunning few over the valley. On our arrival we dived in with our friends and had a glass of local fizz and some olives to kick off our adventure. With the bubbles from my glass going up my nose and the bubbles of the hot tub going up somewhere else I suddenly felt my middle-class credentials beginning to soar. I was quite hungry by now and was yearning for something a little more substantial when I suddenly spied a business opportunity. Hot tubs don’t naturally have a handy ledge to place your wine glass and nibbles, imagine if there was one to cater for northern appetites like mine with a special shelf designed to house a pork pie and a pint of mild? See you on Dragons Den.