Tour du Mont Blanc 2

So, we weren’t going, and it was a shame. Oh well, at least I could stop beating up myself for not training enough.

And then there was a dip between two pandemic waves and we did go. Our flight to Geneva had been cancelled, but we could just swap it for one a day earlier. My fiddle teacher said that flying had never been as pleasant - no crowds at the airport, half-empty planes, like first-class treatment really.

Of course the flight was packed - easyJet had made up for reduced demand by cancelling a few flights, so the ones that were still going were nice and full. Geneva was too hot, and we killed an hour checking out the lake quickly and then having lunch in a shady square. Mr W got very excited about the Croque Monsieur on the menu, and I couldn’t help laughing when I saw his disappointed face on arrival of what really was a sad cheese and ham toastie.

We took the bus to Chamonix, which was also too hot, where we now had the next day to fill until we’d meet up with Mr W’s Chamonix-based friends for dinner. For some reason I was in a foul mood and wasn’t enjoying the heat or Chamonix much. The place was filled with wealthy and sporty tourists (like us I guess) and the infrastructure necessary to house and feed them. You wouldn’t have thought that there was a pandemic on, as it was busy, and face coverings were only required on the high street. Did I mention is was hot? Mr W managed to drag me up a mountain for a bit, but I really wasn’t feeling it and would have preferred to rest in preparation of the long walk that was to follow the next day. Looking back I think I was concerned about the physical challenge ahead.

Dinner was nice though - steak for me, and Mr W had his first cheese fondue of the holiday.