Tuesday, 1 November 2011

Autumn in The Mountains

One of the things I love about France is the changing seasons. Unlike in my beloved homeland, and despite the best efforts of global climate change, French seasons largely behave in the way they're supposed to, with warmth and sunshine for at least a reasonable part of the summer and, in the past few years at least, even a proper fall of snow at some point during the winter. One of the best things about this is that there are at least a few weeks when you can appreciate a proper autumn before the worst of the winter chills and rains set in, and there is no better place to do so than in the French Alps. The following photos were taken a couple of weeks ago, when the trees were golden, red and brown, the low sun was shining through the leaves and the first snow had just started to fall.

It was cold enough for tartiflette and a wood fire in the hearth at night (and for a slightly hairy incident involving black ice on a mountain road, which was nevertheless less hairy than seeing an old couple drive the wrong way round a roundabout, provoking me to panic that my British instincts had taken over and that it was me that was going in the wrong direction), but warm enough to soak up the last of the sunshine during the day.

Now, as November kicks in and the mists of northern France smother Paris in a grey blanket, the beautiful French October weather seems a very long way away already!

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