Aiguille du Midi and the Vallee Blanche

Thing are very different up high and with tickets in hand we prayed they would be good. This was our one and only chance to peer into the secret life of Mont Blanc and go higher than we had ever been before. 3800m in fact, nearly twice as high as our highest peak in Australia.

It’s a rest day, which for us means more exploring and on the agenda was the Aiguille du Midi and Paragliding, something that had evaded us until now. Wanting to beat the crowds we arrive at the telepherique early, but the signs are not good with the start delayed due to bad weather. This is common, where the weather in the valley is fine but the same cannot be said for the peaks. A squint into the sky reveals nothing the massive mountain hidden by cloud.

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Lac Blanc, the great white

The sunrises on the last day of our guided journey and the snow angels have left a parting gift overnight, a dusting down to 2000m. The all too familiar outline of the Mont Blanc Massif yet again shows another aspect of itself, the Aiguille Du Gouter’s face shimmering in all its glory. The north balcony, a walk we did on our day off, now white like someone had painted between the high peaks and lowland forest.

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Dome du Gouter with a dusted white face

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Aiguillette des Houches, all about perspective

It doesn’t seem to matter where you are in the world or what you are doing there is always the potential to have a bad day. Which in essence is the choice you make in how you respond to your circumstances in the moment. And this was truly a selfish and first world bad day of wanting to fit in all the amazing experiences on this epic European adventure.

We knew when we booked our tour around Mont Blanc in June that it was a trade off of crowds versus the weather, but there is always that expectation that you’ll cheat the trade off and get both (low crowds, great weather). One of the key experiences we planned for was paragliding or Parapete. It was due to happen the following day, as that was the last opportunity to fly over the Les Bossons glacier before it became a no fly zone for the summer.

The forecast was for perfect weather today and storms tomorrow. My heart sank, I had  determined this walk was my least favourite and would have gladly given it up to paraglide but it was all too late for that and my chosen response had the potential to rob me of today’s experience while pining the loss of tomorrows. As I write this some months later it sounds ridiculous but in the moment that is what was happening.

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