Le Franco Phoney

Who knew that Segways were for mountain-loving thrill seekers? According to this brochure advertising their arrival to La Clusaz, a Segway can help you “attack the mountain”. I think I might have to agree with that: the weight of the Segway is surely going to do some damage to it at the very least, and possibly to the riders as they attempt to go “off-piste” for higher thrills. They will inevitably pop over the handlebars when they accidentally hit a rock in one of those cow fields they decided to shortcut through (if the able-bodied are lazy enough to get on a Segway, why would they go around a field?), safe in the knowledge that any poo would remain on the Segway instead of on themselves. Would it be wrong to imagine a couple of cows then coming up and attacking the toppled idiot and Segway with their horns?

Anyway, as the photo of our three cool dudes (complete with new gnarly finger-thumb coolness symbol) shows, this is for radical people who want to take their nature walks to the extremes they’ve only ever imagined! Here’s an idea: walk. Experience all those walks by actually moving your legs and feeling your muscles at the end of the day. I’m now imagining a Segway on the stupid walk I did last week, but I don’t see how it would get past the first road strewn with rocks, let alone the loose rocks at the top or the deep mud on the way back down. Let’s hope they make it to those cow fields extra fast.

Oh, and in case you’re wondering, a 60-minute “walk” will cost €45, but it does guarantee an “intense pleasure”. I can think of better ways…

April Fool’s Day in France is known as Poisson d’avril (April Fish) thanks to a bizarre tradition of sticking paper fish to people’s backs. Perhaps equivalent to ‘Kick me’ signs in English, the fish should only be attached on 1st April, and retailers encourage such behaviour by baking fish-shaped pastries and making fish-shaped chocolates. So how and why did this start? Nobody seems to know for sure but there are many theories, ranging from the date’s proximity to the Pisces astrological sign (although it falls smack bang in the middle of Aries) to when mackerals are good for eating to a French king’s change to the calendar year start date, which had been 1st April prior to his change, with many of his subjects refusing to let go of the day as a deay of celebration. And what better way to celebrate than to stick a fish on your mate’s back?
So, I gave it a go this morning. My cat, Bruno had no idea when I slapped this paper fish on his back while he slept, curled up, on his favourite soft toy (which happens to be a dog – double ‘hah!’). I giggled away and taunted him with ‘poisson d’avril‘ as I took this photo. Then I realised that the fish looks quite like a dolphin and I think the cat may have had the last laugh.

Anyway, I’m off to the bakery to pick up some fish-shaped pastries before they’re gone for another year.

WARNING: stereotypes a-plenty a-hoy! Please take the following with a giant grain of salt or two. Here we go. French men seem to love being women. Pictured are three of my friends at last night’s ‘Priscilla party’ at Le Salto pub in La Clusaz, who not only dressed brilliantly as drag queens (complete with makeup, gloves, and even a  Chuppa Chup), but played their parts perfectly. Along with the other men dressed as women, they stroked their hair, flirted with each other and men, kissed each other on their cheeks like women and strutting around like pros (in all senses of the word). The place was heaving, with a bar outside and literally twice as many people there than squashed inside. Radiomeuh took up a small corner with the DJs dressed beautifully in women while they bashed out some appropriate tunes.

To say the least, I was impressed. I can’t help but imagine a similar party in my native country, Australia, which, thanks to the Aussie sense of humour, would no doubt involve more stubby holders, thongs (the type that go on your feet) and bikinis, but that’s presuming the Aussie guys can get past dressing as a woman without being considered gay. Sadly, the phrase “Not that I’m gay” is still considered necessary if a man shows any part of his feminine side. Not so in La Clusaz! Hooray!

The night’s theme left us girls a little confused. The drag queen outfit is harder to get away with, and while one of the bar staff had told me previously to come dressed as a hooker (the same one said last night: “You didn’t dress up” which means either I always dress like a hooker or I didn’t do a very good job), and while there were a few other hookers, there were also girls dressed as pimps, lots of super heroes, nurses, drag queens and even a couple of homies. The variety made the night more entertaining. Bonus points to the imaginative guy who dressed as a pregnant woman from Romania.

French advertisements can be really funny, and this one for Citroen cars makes me giggle every time I see it:

What do you think? Funny or lame?

How do you make Reblochon cheese? Well, that’s still a bit of a mystery to me, thanks to a rather odd night in Le Grand Bornand to learn more about it. The lovely people who run the resort put on a display of cheesemaking last week for the tourists — in a nice, warm tent-like structure, complete with seats for the audience and a little stage for the cheesemakers. So why is it still a mystery? Presuming my French is good enough to understand the guy with the microphone, I’d also need to be standing right next to the speaker to hear him, thanks to the crowd of locals (the musicians waiting to play after, staff ready to serve meals to those willing to pay for a plastic tray of steaming sausage, mushy stuff and cheese after the cheesemaking display, and friends catching up) who were hanging around the bar.

The kids at the tables just wanted some food and the adults looked bored, but we were all entertained when a piste basher trundled past outside, overpowering the noise created by the bar flies as well as the man on stage, who hammered on regardless. People tried to turn their attention back to the stage on its second zoom past the window. Why was a piste basher going past? Because the cheese tasting was not in the centre of town as expected, but further away at some place that was announced on a sign in the centre of town, but without directions or a map to show where it was. We circled the resort like a police helicopter before eventually finding some lights and a big tent by the cross country piste. It seems that nobody co-ordinated the half-hour demonstration with the piste basher staff. For me, it was a bonus anyway, since I couldn’t hear what the guy on stage was saying anyway. Cheesy entertainment indeed!

Last night, La Clusaz held its annual carnival, with groups dressed in 70s disco outfits, cops and prisoners, Star Wars characters, Cleopatras being carried by mummies, various superheros, and even a ladybird. The parade is held early so that kids, like the one pictured, can watch. A power ranger handed his sword over to this kid and motioned for the kid to attack him, which he did (had I remembered to charge the battery on my proper camera, this photo would have been clearer).

With plenty of kids around before 8pm, the DJ playing the loud party music in the centre of the gathering put on “Why Don’t We Just F**k” by Greg Parys. I know, I know, it’s an English word, but I can’t imagine many parents wanting their kids swearing in English or French or any other language. Some kids danced away to the song, while a boy of about twelve just next to me teased a group of local boys the same age by wearing a mask so they couldn’t tell who he was. How did he tease them? He rubbed his mask up and down with his hand. His mask was the head of a penis. He couldn’t have timed it better with the music, although the group of boys watching looked stunned despite their preference to look cool.

For all the entertainment provided, this kid was by far the most entertaining to watch. Eventually, one of the stunned boys walked towards him and ripped his mask off before the boy grabbed it back and ran away. The boys still looked stunned.

Like all public events in La Clusaz, the parade ended with fireworks, signalling bed time for the kids and pub time for the oddly-dressed adults. I suspect the stunned boys lingered outdoors, being too old for bed and too young for the pub, and probably watched the kid in the penis mask steal his way into a pub before turning to taunt them from the window. I can’t wait for next year.

Each year, La Clusaz holds a show to illustrate the history of skiing. This involves a torchlit descent by the local ski instructors who mingle with traditionally-dressed skiers to show how skis have changed over time. Free hot chocolate keeps the spectators warm and happy. Pictured above is some of the action, including a woman skiing in a long dress with one long pole to help her balance, and four ski instructors attached to one long ski (the two at the back fell off on the first attempt skiing downhill, much to the crowd’s excitement), and an early version of piste security, who pulled an ‘injured’ skier into their sledge without removing his skis — delighting the crowd once more.

Before the action really began, the dancers bounced around to three songs, then a fire fighters’ old water pump on a sledge was dragged into the lights. I wonder if it’s the same one that they use each Bastille Day in summer with the sledge bit removed.

After the dancing, the firefighters squirting cold water on the cold crowd trying to stay warm (who didn’t seem to mind), and the torchlit descent, the skiers and instructors did their things on different skis to show the progression of the sport from wooden planks to telemarking through to snowboarding and parabolic skis. Three local kids did some cool jumps off a big kicker and the ski instructors did some (mostly) less cool ones after. The fireworks signalled the end of the display.

I love watching stuff like this — local, historic, interesting and entertaining. And amazingly, all totally free.

Pictured is a bizarre racing track that has since been demolished in Méribel, which I snapped from my view on a chairlift on Sunday. It was part of the World Cup race for telemarkers, which involved the usual flag poles for the racers to turn by, with a jump half way through, then this big dome for them to loop around, followed by some skating on the flat area behind this dome before finally reaching the finish line just in front of the dome. The racers face back towards the mountain they’ve just come from. It was an interesting race to watch, but a bit difficult for the spectators to see the dome part, as you can see by the empty area behind the red fence to the left of the dome. The skating behind the dome went right by the spectators, who made lots of noise for any French racer, particularly the local ones, and went almost completely silent for anyone else. By 3.30pm, when the racing was all over, the pistes bashers were flattening the dome.

Having just one day to catch up with friends in Méribel and hit the (surprisingly well-maintained after a month of no fresh snow) pistes, I missed the end of the race and the prize-giving ceremony. However, I did get lots of telemarking advice from the lovely Roddy (who telemarks just as well switch as he does going forward), saw some table-top dancing at one of the piste-side restaurants, and sampled the delicious food from The Den, which used to be Pizza Express. The snow is great in Méribel at the moment, with the pistes covered with man-made snow and this week’s high temperatures likely to make the pistes as slushy as April conditions, pleasing many snowboarders who have had to contend with rock-hard ice for the past month. The sun is so warm, in fact, that I wonder if La Clusaz will have many pistes open by the end of the week. Will winter return before spring takes over?

Every winter, La Clusaz advertises moonlit skiing if there’s a full moon. When the conditions are right, it’s good fun. Take this photo from a few years ago as an example. It was warm enough to take lots of photos, including this one of my friend, Lilly, while some loon danced next to her. We were at one of the four pubs that run down the ski piste (le Cret du Merle) that was open that year, drinking mulled wine, playing with the flashing lights handed out for free and listening to music by the warm fire while overlooking the village of La Clusaz with all its lights below. It was glorious.

This required a number of factors including:

1. A clear sky so the moon creates enough light for skiing
2. A well-groomed piste so there are no surprise jumps in the dark
3. Temperate weather

Okay, the temperate weather is not a requirement, but the other two really are. Last year, at least one moonlit ski was cancelled due to no clear sky, but this year, the moon was out and everyone rejoiced. However, the weather was freezing cold (way below zero), and as soon as I stepped outside, I felt the heat my lips and cheeks disappear. With such cold weather, the pistes could only be icy, and with so little snow since December, quite patchy and rocky too.

The pub, with a live band playing to celebrate the moonlit skiing event, seemed like a much more attractive option. With the piste ending next to the pub, I watched a snowboarder attempt to get down the last twenty metres. Sections of the piste were shining like an ice rink, and the whole lot was as hard as a rock. This guy couldn’t stand up for more than one second before his board would slide from under him again. I watched him fall three times consecutively, with his snowboard making that ‘shhhhhhhhrrrrrrkkkk’ sound (the ‘kkkk’ being his rump hitting the ice). As I walked to the pub, I heard that sound another two times. He was still less than half way down.

It’s such a shame that the weather was so cold and the pistes lacking snow for such a great event. The real enjoyment comes not so much the skiing at night (one run and the novelty has worn off), but from stopping in at each pub, listening to DJs or live bands and sipping something hot while chatting with strangers and friends alike. I’m already looking forward to the next one and keeping my fingers crossed for better conditions.

January is traditionally a quiet month on the slopes in the French Alps: school holidays are over and everyone is recovering financially from Christmas, leaving the mountain to the locals and the seasonnaires to play on as a result of all their hard work in December, when staff often get no days off for weeks or work very long days. To compare the two months quickly, the tailback of cars in La Clusaz at the end of the day can last for around two hours as the stream of traffic from La Balme meets the stream from l’Etale, and then they both hit town and meet more traffic, and the snake continues down through St Jean de Sixt. In January, it’s third gear all the way through with few cars on the road.

However, last weekend, La Clusaz went from quiet to car carnage due to three different events being held — each appealing to different audiences. Over at l’Etale, the Radikal Mountain event was being held, where freeride skiers bomb down cliff-faces, jumping metres of rock in the process, to a panel of judges below. Also at l’Etale, on the racing piste just next to the freeride event, were kids from all over the region competing in a slalom event. That meant parents and lots of cars in the already overflowing car park full of Radikal Mountain media vans. Meanwhile, no wonder the display for the La Balme car park said “FULL”: the lower car park had turned into a tent city with snowboard companies showing off their 2012 stock for industry workers to test as part of the Snow Avant Premiere event.

So, on the weekend, we had cool dude skiers, their fans and media people, plus a huge influx of kids and parents and all the staff required for a slalom event, as well as every snowboarder who works in a ski shop in a 200km or more radius! Also add in the usual weekend crowd from Annecy, bolstered by the sunny, spring-like weather. The result? A snake of cars from all directions trying to get out of La Clusaz at the end of the day.

If I saw any of the benefits of any of these events, I wouldn’t mind so much, but the Radikal Mountain day-time event is so distant it’s like watching an ant, the racing kids filled the snack bar I was in and made a racket, and the snowboard event is only open to shop workers. Radikal Mountain did also have a freestyle jib session in town on Saturday night, but it’s stupidly early at 7pm, so by the time we got there after dinner, the whole thing was over, and of course, the pub nearby, which was rammed, including a heated outdoor area, was only for invited people. The bouncer pointed us to the ‘bar’ (a black stand with a keg of beer and a man looking bored) for the public: apparently, we’re meant to enjoy drinking alone in the cold with no outdoor heaters and in full view of the cool dudes who are nice and warm. The four of us shrugged and walked away. La Clusaz, can you make things a bit more public — or at least spread out — next year?