First week on Grand Alpine Tour of european ski resorts
After a relatively easy, if un-glamorous trip down from Calais to the French alps, we traded in our nights in highway truck stops for balmy days in a gorgeous French campsite at the foot ofAlpe d’Huez ski resort.
We get excellent WiFi so I can crack on with a few days of work online which need to be completed before we can start to visit the alpine ski resorts to review their ski holiday facilities. Jimmy settles in immediately and, along with mummy, befriends a charming Dutch couple who are regulars at the campsite (been coming here for 17 years, and I can see why).
A lot of roadies stay in this campsite for just a night or two, as they’re here to take on the mighty Alpe d’Huez, one of the most famous climbs in the Tour de France – there are also a lot of Dutch caravanners & motorhomers here, among the many French old-timers who have made this their summer/autumn residence in retirement.
I’m struck by the marked difference in the Dutch and French approach to us – bonhommie aught rather to be a Dutch word I think, as one or a couple of Dutch campers come to say hello most days, ask if they can look around the Airstream and enquire enthusiastically about our Grand Alpine Tour – the French only speak or even smile at us after several days of effort with huge smiles all round and “bonjour! ca va?” attempts to engage.
It’s here, and while thinking about this difference between the French and Dutch, that I started to realise just how similar the English and the French really are.
The Dutch are certainly extraordinarily socially capable, when roaming abroad – I think a lot of their confidence comes from the impressive Dutch multi-lingual abilities, of which I am frequently envious, but there is something more to it too. Maybe its that straightforward matter-of-factness… whatever the reasons, they are one of the most generous and enjoyable of nationalities to meet when travelling.
But back to the English and French – yes, we are incredibly similar. If you look at demographics, a caravanner is most likely to be working class and/or retired so I asked myself, if a French person turned up in a (let’s be honest) fairly flash caravan, in a working class caravan site in the UK, how many of the locals would rush over to say hello… speaking in French? Not too many is my guess! But, if that French person made lots of effort to be friendly and engage, no doubt most Brits would be generous and welcoming… and so it went on our first week in the French alps.
By the end of the week Jimmy was saying “au revoir” or rather “ov-war” to everyone and even “bonjour” if the camper had a “doggie” with them. With French ladies, Jimmy is our secret weapon! (he is a terrible little flirt – gets it from his ma 😉 )
Next: driving up (and struggling down) Alpe d’Huez with a 2.5 ton vintage caravan
(if you’ve a business or accommodation in Alpe d’Huez, Get Listed Now on our ski holidays guide and I’ll name-check you in the Alpe d’Huez blog post)
Richard A
09/10/2009 @ 6:04 pm
This trip is simply stunning. Keep the posts up they are a welcome diversion from wireframes and all things web 2.
Jean Bailey
10/10/2009 @ 5:13 pm
OOOh. Looks fabulous out there! Wish I woz there and missing my little Jimmy (and of course my first baby and his lovely lady! Lots of love, luck and hugs. Speak soon. x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x
admin
10/10/2009 @ 9:45 pm
long time no speak! thanks Richard and thanks for your advice in the past – its heartening when someone you don’t know from Adam takes the time to share their expertise. did you get to Chamonix for some climbing? please stick us on your excellent mobile climbing pages (www.SNO.mobi can tell your climbing readers where to find pastries and choc chauds apres les Gaillands)
we’re back a Londres pour Noel so maybe stand you that long-promised pint
admin
10/10/2009 @ 10:01 pm
thanks mummy
not sure about you typing “woz” – apart from you being the person who used to berate me for such “yoof” speak, it doesn’t actually save any letters/key-strokes v’s “was”
tell Steve, there’s a wiley old French fella in our campsite, who’s had at least one trout out for supper every day, on what looks like a twenty quid plastic telescopic rod – the mountain streams here are so clear that trout and chap can eyeball each other!