Showing posts with label alps. Show all posts
Showing posts with label alps. Show all posts

Friday, July 21, 2017

Remembrances

Today marks our last week in Europe. One week from this morning we will begin our last day here, a morning, afternoon, and night. Then the next day this will all be over, we'll tidy the house one last time, load the baggage in a rental car, pack the cats up in their carriers, and board a plane out of Frankfurt for the last time. The end.

These last couple of weeks have been kind of rough. Everything is all set for us in the US; we have a house, phone numbers, utility accounts, etc. Extracting ourselves from Germany has been less simple, frustrating even. It's like at the end of a movie, when the last lines of the credits disappear at the top of the screen and the house lights come on. There's no point in sitting in the theater any longer, the magic is over and it's time to go home. Trouble is, we're still stuck here, with few belongings in a house that no longer feels remotely like home amongst people we feel no connection with. The days are punctuated by one move out crisis after another- the landlord refuses to cooperate on a meeting time, the painter needs to make an estimate, the people coming to buy our appliances have changed their minds. The in between time is hours reading and watching Netflix on an air mattress in a house darkened against the summer heat, a place of limbo. The Company said we had to stay until the end of July, so that's what we're doing.

But, this is also a time for remembrance, a chance to look back at the highlights of this experience, jot them down, and honor the moments and places that have made all the frustrations worth it. So, over this last week I'm going to dust off my notes, dig through my photo archives, and share some of my favorite places and memories with you. I'll cover a different place each day over on my Instagram account, but I'll present them all at once for you here in this post. Without further ado, here are the highlights of the last 5.5 years:


Norway: Bridge to Another World

The first time I left the United States I went to Norway. As soon as I returned, I wanted to go back. Norway sparked a love for travel that I've never been able to shake. When I finally did return in 2015, it was just as I remembered. It is a land of fast waters, lofty mountains, deep valleys that plunge into  bright blue fjords, hillsides dotted with red barns, cliff sides dotted with turf roofed cabins, a place the sun never really sets in summer, and a country filled with cheerful, kind, and beautiful people. It started it all for me, it was a bridge to another world and another life. Going back opened the imagination even further. The road through the Jotunheim was just as stunning as I remembered. The waters were just as clear. The fogs were just as mysterious. Norway will stay with me the rest of my life, as all things that change our lives do.

Moments from Norway I don't want to forget: walking in Otta after midnight because we could, getting our butts kicked by Grandma Badass hiking the Vidden trail, Diam in the ice cream, cheese filled/bacon wrapped/fried onion topped hotdogs on a ferry, getting our precious Kvikk Lunsj bars stolen by seagulls in Odda, the longest tunnel in the world (at the time) with those blue caves along the way, dinner from a gas station, the Fram, the smoky smell of stave churches.


Lisbon: Best Kept Secret

We went to Lisbon to escape the chilly atmosphere of Germany and because all those tiles looked incredible. We ended up in awe of its soul. I have never been in a city like Lisbon before. It is stunningly beautiful, of course. The architecture, the people, and the very streets themselves were an endless photographic journey. The food was a revelation. Lisbon has all the things that make a great European capital worth a visit, but it has something that no other city on this continent has: the Lisboetas themselves. Never once in all these years have we entered a city  inhabited by such warm and wonderful people. Coming from Germany, the climate and food were shock enough, but the locals' hospitality and kindness hit us like a splash of cold water on a hot day. From waiters, to shop keepers, to doctors, to people we passed on the street, they were all overwhelmingly kind and gracious. We never felt as welcome in a city as we did in Lisbon, it was absolutely gut wrenching to leave. If anyone asks me what is the best place in Europe to visit that few people ever go to I will always answer Lisbon. Be warned, however, you may not want to leave either.

Moments from Lisbon I don't want to forget: that first pastel de nata, sunsets from mirados, vinho verde, watching a soccer game in the park, lunch in the market, watching the day end at Belem Tower during that rock music festival, the kid with the water, "Santa Maria!", the emergency room, getting my sight back, ginja in the little chocolate cups, music coming from somewhere every night.


Belgium: Dear Kindred Spirit

Oh, Belgium, Belgium, you weird, wonderful mess, you. Belgium was our refuge for many years while we lived in Luxembourg. It was a place of misty forests, bike races, amazing beer, bizarre encounters; a place where the unexpected should always be expected. It was a country where we had our worst travel disappointments and favorite little revelations.  I think I love Belgium, both halfs, because it reminds me of where I'm from. Except for the microcosm of Brussels, a bustling international city, Belgium feels slightly trapped in another time and slightly left behind. The roads are full of holes, abandoned homes and factories fill the towns and cities, the population is mostly working class, the countryside feels wild and untamed, the majority of cities are past their prime, slow moving canals run along old streets- some reeking of the garbage floating on  their surfaces. The bars in small towns are inhabited by silent old cantankerous men who suspiciously eye  you over Jupiler beer. The cities are layered in generations of grime and all the other tattered trappings of failing modern societies. But, if you spend a little more time there and peer around the corners, you'll find an  art market in a small warehouse, jazz clubs down alleys,  small independent theaters, craft breweries,  and on occasion someone playing Brahms on a piano at midnight in a city square. Sure, Belgium may seem like it's dying a slow death, but under the surface it is very much still alive and kicking, just like the "Rust Belt" back home. I recognize Akron, Cleveland, Youngstown, and Toledo in Ghent, Liege, Arlon, and Antwerp. They were comforting and familiar, and could be a marvel if you let them, just like my hometown.

Moments from Belgium I don't want to forget: every single bike race we got to watch from its roadsides, paper cones of golden frites with mayonnaise, renting that guy's  basement in Spa to go cycling only to have every road closed for a rally car race, having Kwaak in the proper glass for the first time, buying cheese at Orval, peering over walls in Rochefort, talking with the Estonian diplomats during the Brussels beer festival, every single night in Ghent, gnomes around Houfflaize, the brothel run by the 12 year old Chinese kid in St. Hubert, every single meal at L'Ancienne Hopital, cycling to Bruges, trying to rent a van in Liege, sugar waffles, pralines, buying more beer than we could ever hope to finish.


Italy: Land of Light and Life

We could always count on Italy to come through, no matter where in it we ended up. It was always as beautiful, exciting, and as fun as we hoped it would be. It was  easy to kick back and enjoy life in. Rome floored us with the weight of its legacy and countless layers of history. Congested and chaotic it wrapped us up in blankets of memory. Rome has always been and will always be. Florence, hurried and gilded kept us at a distance, but little Lucca made up for all the bustle with its peaceful squares, and hidden alleys. Countless villages passed on back road routes were pulled from postcards. Then, there was Venice. Venice was a tapestry, the light was ethereal, the sounds muffled, the pace slow and yet still hectic. It was a pleasure to photograph and I only scratched the surface of possibility. But, most special was little Sorico on the shores of Lake Como, a haven, a refuge from the world and home to some of the nicest people we've ever met. And, of course, Italian food is the best in the world, from toe to calf the eating is incredible all along the boot. Despite what the French might say, the Italians have mastered food and wine and coffee. The rest of us are just trying to catch up.  

Moments from Italy I don't want to forget: getting off the highway somewhere on the way to Florence and getting sorta kinda lost, gelato every day, pizza on park benches, cannoli in Rome, learning to love wine again,  freezing for dawn photos in Venice, Christmas in Venice (for crying out loud), having St. Paul's to ourselves, realizing Fernet Branca sounds cooler in the Dark Knight script than it tastes in real life, all the flowers, appreciating the Italians' gift for the public argument, that cafe for fisherman in Burano, dawn at the Spanish Steps, naps in the heat of the day, finding abandoned palaces in the hills, the tunnels, Madonna del Ghisallo, Fausto Coppi's hometown, discovering the moka pot, dawn arriving over the Forum, afternoon thunderstorms, every single meal Mama Angela made and her tiramisu too.


Iceland: Be Still My Heart

Several people I know have visited Iceland this year, and I'm thrilled they did. It's one of those places that has to be seen to be believed. Even after seeing it, you may not believe it. There's a reason Iceland stands in for other planets in the movies. You could almost swear it was. Even now I can't quite put the place into words. I believe Scandinavia is one of the most beautiful regions on earth, and Iceland is  most certainly the jewel in its crown. There are waterfalls that create  rainbows, basalt columns rising out of the earth, black sand beaches, moss covered fields of lava, glaciers miles deep with chapels carved out of them, and its  capital city is a place covered in color. And, then  in the winter there is this incredible nightly show that cannot be matched by anything else  created in  nature or created by man. It is a place so incredible it catches your breath. Your heart skips a beat. If any spot on earth could light  a passion of love for this planet it is Iceland. If you haven't been, go. Go now.

Moments I don't want to forget from Iceland: super Jeeps everywhere, discussing the pros and cons of  eco tourism with a couple of Poles and our Icelandic guide, that trip up the Jokulsarlon glacier and then going into it, really expensive but delicious IPAs, that bar that was only playing old MTV music videos, dinners at gas stations, little hairy ponies running alongside the bus, a beach of ice sculptures, the Viking longhouse under our hotel, seals playing in the lagoon, almost getting blown away in  the wind, using crampons, all too brief days, risking frostbite because I couldn't stop watching and photographing those waves and waves of color and light.


Ireland: Balm for the Soul

Ireland was the hardest to leave, the one place I could honestly see staying in forever. There's no way we would have ever stayed in Luxembourg or Germany for the long term. We and our expat bases  couldn't make it together forever, we're too different. But, Ireland felt that it could be home. Why? Sure, it helps that we could speak the language for a change, and yes, that scenery is so beautiful it almost hurts. But, like Lisbon, it was the people that pulled us in. The Irish are a special people, they're open, real, and welcoming. You can walk into a restaurant or a bar and there's no staring or silent judgement, they smile and talk to you like you belong there. That's one of the main things that I miss about home in Ohio, friendly people up for a chat. Keep in mind, I'm an introvert, so missing random conversation is really saying something. Being in Ireland was a balm for the soul. On top of being genuinely lovely folks, they were pretty fantastic cooks and musicians too. And, then there were those green rolling hills, misty evenings, flash rain falls, wildflowers, ruins, and sheep. If ever I disappear, look in Ireland first.

Moments I don't want to forget from Ireland: reuniting over crab claws and pints with a friend and spending time with her family, getting a little lost in Dublin, staying in the famine cottage outside of Cahersiveen, the solstice at the ring fort, talking basketball and LeBron James at Mike Murts, talking/coping with  Brexit with the guide at Tullamore D.E.W.,  live music and spilled  pints in  Doolin, learning about whiskey from the old guy at the liquor store, seeing the Skelligs across the water, climbing up into the rain and over fences to find a wedge tomb, getting lost in the mountains and then having to wait for the cows to move so we could turn around, learning there's a better way to see the Cliffs of Moher, yelling "Hedge!", the Burren at sunrise, the sea wind off the coast, breaks in the clouds, flicking Trump off when we drove by his golf course, laughing with just about everyone we met, lunch at Tom Crean's amidst portraits of him,  Shackleton, and clippings about polar exploration, finally seeing Newgrange, feeling like (for once) we belonged.


Paris: City of Cities

There is nothing I can say about Paris that hasn't already been said. For those who have spent some time in Paris, the city is their own. Paris is our own, it is our Paris, not anyone elses. It's complicated, mystifying, intimidating, inspiring, pure white and yet dirty. It doesn't give itself up to you easily, you have to come back again and again to peel back the crafted surface to see its  insides. Then you come back again and it's the same but also completely different. Paris was our place, and we'll always have it, as the saying goes. I'm blessed to have stood beneath the Eiffel Tower in the middle of the night before terrorism made such an experience unattainable. We had our hotel and our cafe. We knew the city's rhythms for a while and that is good enough for me. You can't fully know Paris. In many ways it exists on its own plane. But, you can go and it will be there, different and unchanged. No city is like it, nothing could ever be.

Moments from Paris I don't want to forget: that last time at Cafe Central complete with absinthe and escargot, Hotel de Paris Invalides, the little studio we rented at Christmas with all the books on art, sunshine on the golden dome of Les Invalides, tangos spied on the banks of the Seine, choco pain and cappuccinos, that slap stick comedy routine we did on Rue Cler, the smell of the Metro, endless hours in flea markets, hot dogs in baguettes, the sewer museum, seeing Saint Chapelle for the first time, freezing under the bridge across from Notre Dame, knowing where everything was (for the most part), people watching in Gare d'Est, those stairs to that studio we rented at Christmas, Christmas in Paris (for heaven's sake), boat rides in the dark, the Eiffel Tower every night on the hour.


The Alps: Home to My Dreams

The Alps. They will always have my heart. It doesn't matter if they're the Swiss, the French, the Austrian, the German, or the Italian Alps. I love them. Ok, the ones in Switzerland may be my favorite. There are beach people and there are mountain people. I'm 100% a mountain person. Give me rocky peaks, snow, unpredictable weather, rolling mist, waterfalls, and deep and green valleys over sand, sea, and sunshine every single time. I want my landscape to scare me a little, keep me humble. I want a landscape I can't take my eyes off of.  The Alps are an  especially unique mountain range because people live there and have lived there for thousands of years. Walk down the trail a ways and you may find yourself in a town or at a hut with a micro brewery. It's a civilized but completely uncivilized place. The Alps are shockingly beautiful, comfortable, and terrifying.  I don't know if we will ever get to return to all these other places, but I deeply hope we will get to come back to the Alps someday. I will miss them dearly.

Moments from the Alps I don't want to forget: that horrible and wonderful climb up Legnone, making the turn into Lauterbrunnen for the first time, self serve cheese on the side of the road in Switzerland, Franks' place, that schnapps sampler, chicken fajitas, raclette for dinner four nights in a row, driving the switchbacks from Italy to Switzerland, meeting goats and marmots, watching climbers in Chamonix, hiking all day to beer, the traditional giant Toblerone bar every time, buying vignettes, hiking in the dark to watch the sun ignite the peak of the Matterhorn, cow bells, old men in felt hats, honor shops, the north face of the Eiger in all its glory, the crack of an avalanche high above.

What about Germany and Luxembourg, you ask? Well, those places deserve more than a blurb. I'll get to them in due time.

Then there are all the other moments in all the other places I don't want to forget either: tacos in Edinburgh, going to where they buried my ancestor's leg bone in Caen, saying hi to kings and queens and other important folks buried in Westminster, getting horribly ill on the beaches of Normandy, apocalyptic  weather in Barcelona, almost getting stuck in Bratislava, having disappointing cake in Vienna, midnight trains to Prague, finding THE picnic spot from To Catch A Thief and having chicken and beer there too, Eze, lavender fields, swimming in the Med with that octopus, ruin pubs in Budapest, "The foulest thing in the room!", Sunday roast dinners, Stonehenge, caipirinhas in Dresden, randomly driving through the town my paternal grandfather's people are from in Austria, walking into Austria that other time because it was right there, taking The Dog just about everywhere we could, calvados, meeting friends of friends in a Newcastle bar and getting trashed with them, staying in that old bakery near Valkenburg, going to the Tour de France, feeling the power of  the Arenburg Trench, eating the marrow because no one else would, cycling in Ærø, being kids at Legoland, a train ride from Scotland to England, and, and, and...

It sure has been fun!      

Thursday, August 11, 2016

Halftime

I love August.  Well, I mean I love August in Germany.  I don't remember it being particularly pleasant in Ohio due to insane heat, the usual drought, and the sense of melancholy that comes with the approach of Labor Day and the end of summer all together.  However, here, even if you have to go to work, it feels like a month of vacation.  Germans, by law, have to have 30 days vacation.  Some can even manage to eke out a little more depending on other variables.  Some choose to spread those 30 days out through the year.  Others take a big lump all at once, usually in the summer, and head off to the Alps or the beach for a couple of weeks.  Oh, and they have to take these days according to the law.  The worker certainly has a pretty sweet deal here, in my opinion.  This, of course, doesn't apply to people like us who are expats with contracts from a non-German company.  Personally, I think companies should give their expats the same vacation days as their native co-workers during their assignment because being the only person working most of the year is pretty taxing.

On the plus side, during the month of August a lot of people are out of town on vacation so being at home actually feels like a holiday too.  The shops are less crowded, no one is is around to dig up the roads (or, unfortunately, fill in the holes they made in July), and the people who are around are just a bit more chilled out.  It's really nice.  The weather is pretty great too.  While we've been here the heat always hits in July and then tapers off come August.  This year it's been downright chilly, almost Autumn-like.  So, here I am sitting on our balcony with a view of the river as I punch out this update.  The only sounds are church bells and birds.  It's a pretty sweet deal for us too.

We've always treated the month of August as a holiday too, just in a different way.  We don't go out of town at all.  With everyone coming and going from the office, this month is a perfect chance for my husband to get a lot done at work.  It's also a chance to get some things sorted out and planned for the rest of the year.  We use the weekends to get things done around the house that we've been putting off, doing some cycling, and exploring the local area a bit more.  I too have been taking August off from a lot of photography, preventing a burn out that would no doubt hit if I ran around at breakneck pace all year.  I might do a little on the weekends or within a quick bike ride of the house, but for the most part I just focus on catching up on some reading, doing a little digging through whatever backlog I have, updating the Zazzle shop, or organizing my files.  It's nice to put down the camera for a bit and see the world with my eyes for awhile.  Keeps me sane.

I decided to kick off this break a little early this year with our trip to Lake Como last month.  Well, circumstances decided a little bit for me, but I'll get to that in a bit.  My husband and I decided to stay at our favorite hotel to celebrate our 10 year wedding anniversary in July.  We stayed there in 2013 on the way back from a trip to the Riviera.  We were only there for two nights on that trip, but we fell head over heels in love with the place and promised ourselves and the proprietors that we would return.

View from hotel at dinner.  We decided to climb it later that week. 

So, for this trip we decided to spend 8 days there.  Our plan was to do a little photography, a lot of hiking, and even more relaxing.  For once, this was going to be a proper vacation.  Strolls, naps, and afternoon ice cream cones were going to be regular occurrences.  We never take trips like this (the last one was in 2013 to the Riviera, actually), and we definitely needed one.  It's been a long year.

I did want to get out a couple of times for some early morning shooting because, obviously, we were in a prime landscape location.  However, we discovered upon our first attempt that the hotel locks the doors until 6:00am, thus trapping us well after the July sunrise.  At first I was really upset and contemplated asking if we could make special arrangements.  But, I realized that it was actually a good thing.  We both wanted to make this trip more about spending time together and relaxing than getting up at 4:00am and rushing to a location every morning.  I was going to be ok.  It turned out to be exactly what we needed.  We both felt 10x better after the trip, relaxed and ready to face the rest of the year.  I imagine the dinners at the hotel restaurant every night had something to do with that.  The owner totally spoiled us with perfect homemade pastas and local specialities every night.  It was pure heaven, even on the days it rained.

View from the top of the mountain.  Blessed with a clear day
after quite the climb up there.
I really think breaks are important.  Athletes have off seasons, kids get summer vacations, why shouldn't creatives step back for a bit once a year too?  Sometimes I get so wrapped up in photography, I can't even contemplate something else.  Laundry can pile up, I don't get enough sleep, and the cats come in my office periodically to make sure I'm not dead (ok, they may just be there to remind me it's their dinner time).  I admit, I get obsessive.  So, stepping back for a short time is definitely something I need to do.  While we were in Italy, not being able to worry about getting the next shot or chasing the light everyday forced me to focus on the trip and have a really great time.   We did do a lot of hiking and walking, plus we climbed a 8,560ft mountain on a whim.  We weren't exactly sitting with an ice cream all day every day.  But, not having the next shot goal permeating all my thoughts made it possible to have a really relaxing time.  It wasn't work, it was vacation.  You know what?  I was totally ok.  It was ok not to get shots every day, or only have a couple of the two of us (and The Dog) on the card for a change.  It was like coming up for air.

So, I do have a couple mini projects for the rest of the month, but we don't have another photo trip scheduled until October.  In the meantime, check back at my Zazzle shop regularly because I am using this time to add some new products.  If you're already in the market for a 2017 calendar, they are now available!  Next month, is the hallowed home leave trip back to Akron, so you can expect some more cat photos and misc hometown whatnot in my feed pretty soon.  But for now, I'm going to sit back and enjoy this lovely view we've been blessed with, read a little more of Susan Sontag's On Photography, and maybe think about working in the garden.  Maybe.

Oh, I almost forgot!  The name of our favorite hotel is Hotel Europa.  Remember, it's the one in Sorico at the northern tip of Lake Como.  If you are passing that way, there isn't a better place to stay.  At least make sure that you stop for dinner!

Thursday, May 21, 2015

Chamoniiiiiiiix!

Well, I wrote this post once already today, then Blogger had a problem and highlighted all the text, and then it just deleted the whole post all together.  So, here I am, once again, writing a blog post on Chamonix-Mont Blanc, France.  Sigh.  Oh, and as I said in the original version, I was intending to write about the Fujinon 10-24mm lens, but I'm going to leave that for a later date.  Ok, here we go.  Again.

The city of Chamonix with the Mont Blanc Massif towering above
 Last weekend, we drove down through Switzerland to Chamonix-Mont Blanc, France.  Chamonix-Mont Blanc (usually just called Chamonix) is one of the oldest tourism based towns in Europe.  It is pretty much located where the borders of France, Italy, and Switzerland meet.  The famous dome of Mont Blanc towers high above the town.  Mont Blanc is the tallest mountain of the Alps and the tallest in Western Europe.  It was the first major peak in the world to be climbed; the first ascent took place in 1786.  Some of the greatest climbers in history were either from Chamonix or spent significant time there.  Back in the day, the "Chamonix Guides" were men of legend.  Mont Blanc is still one of the most important mountains to ascend for mountaineers, usually the first major climb done by Europeans starting out in the sport and it's a must do for those attempting the Seven Summits.  The town is usually packed with climbers in the summer attempting the various routes of Mont Blanc, Grand Jorasses, or the many Aiguilles.  I'm fascinated by mountaineering and its lore and have always wanted to visit the valley from which the greats like Herzog, Terray, Messner, and Walker climbed out of into the clouds.  It's a sobering experience to see the spurs, walls, faces, ridges, and peaks in the flesh.

The dome of Mont Blanc

The Aiguille du Midi with its visitor center on the peak.  The cable car to the center is the
highest reaching vertical ascent car in the world.
Alpen glow on one of the peak of the Aiguilles

But, it's not just a town for climbers.  Chamonix hosted the first Winter Olympics in 1924 and it's still a top destination for skiers in the Winter.  And, there's plenty for hikers, paragliders, runners, and cyclists too.  Chamonix is an outdoor sports enthusiast's playground year round.  It's basically a French speaking Aspen; heck, it's actually Aspen's sister city.  Everyone walks around wearing Columbia, Patagonia, Jack Wolfskin, Northface, or Odlo, even if they're just going to the pub.  The town has been supporting the tourist trade since the early 19th century and it shows.  The center is lined with fondue restaurants, outdoor equipment stores (some with espresso bars), pubs, hostels, hotels, and gourmet food shops.  It's a bit shabby, despite the popularity.  Sleepy alpine village it is not, but for those making a first time visit to the Alps, Chamonix is good place to start.  Despite being a little worn around the edges, it has excellent facilities, good food, and the friendliest French townspeople we've ever met.  And, of course, the views will never get shabby.

View from center looking southeast on the chalky white Arve River

We were kept down in the valley due to snow on Friday, the first real snow we've seen this year (a bit odd to experience it in May).   That allowed us time to get some local provisions like Savoy cheese and saucisson, génépe, fresh bread, and some bottles of Chignin Bergeron.  It was also a good time to check out the Crystal and Climbing Museum too.  The weather was a bit tricky for most of the weekend, as it tends to be in mountainous regions.  It was foggy in the mornings, clear for about 5 minutes in the afternoons, then cloudy again in the evenings.  I threw the 55-200mm lens in the bag as an afterthought, but ended up using it quite a bit to get tight shots of the peaks and ridges (like the ones above) when there was a break in the clouds.  It also came in handy for shooting rock climbers scaling a wall down in the valley.


We did a 10 mile hike on Saturday.  For that I packed the 18-55mm, 55-200mm, and the 10-24mm lenses.  I cannot get over how much easier it is to use the Fujifilm system on a long hike in comparison to my old DSLR.  I packed the photo equipment (tripod, filters, etc) in my Hama backpack and still had plenty of room for extra clothing, lunch for us and The Dog, and other oddments.  That pack was still lighter than the other small daypack we had with a few additional supplies and water!  While I was definitely hankering for a weather sealed system on the snow day, I was thankful to be running the super light body of the X-E2 during the hike.

View of the valley from the Petit Balcon trail shot with the 10-24mm lens
House in Chamonix passed at the end of the hike. Shot with the 18-55mm. 
The rapidly receding Taconazz glacier.  Shot with the 55-200mm lens from across the valley
on the Petit Balcon trail.
Thanks to the weather, we really only got in one proper outdoor day.  It was a bit too early in the season for high altitude trekking as those trails were still under snow and many others were undergoing repairs.  It wasn't proper mountaineering season yet either.  There was a high risk of avalanche and we heard several from across the valley during our hike.  Of course, there were still plenty of climbers hanging around tackling clearer, lower routes.  The lower trails had a steady stream of hikers and runners, the roads were filled with cyclists, and the skies dotted with paragliders.  If ever you're headed to Chamonix I recommend giving it at least 5 days so you're more likely to get some clear weather.  The view from the Midi is supposedly worth the crowds and price.  Unfortunately the cable car wasn't running during our visit because of the weather.  So, summer is definitely the time to go (unless you ski).  There's enough to do in town on a bad weather day.  The cuisine is rich and hearty alpine fare (vegans may have some trouble).  The locals were all incredibly friendly and helpful.  Although it's a tourist town, Chamonix attracts a different type of tourist and generally the place has a laid back vibe.  While it's not my favorite spot in the Alps, I believe it is worth a look.  For someone who climbs (or, like myself, is just fascinated by the sport and its lore) Chamonix is definitely a must see.  However, its slopes and trails will be much more crowded than other alpine spots. So, don't expect to be alone in nature for long periods of time.  Unless, of course, you're clinging to a rock face high above the valley.