Everyone arrives a day earlier than planned. Loïc picks them up in Geneva and, a few hours later, we settle into our apartment overlooking the lake in Tignes. The resort is almost empty. The last snow still covers the summits. And since we are here, we head out for a walk.
Our first loop takes shape as we follow the water. At La Gouille des Salins, a curtain of droplets spills down the cliff. Below, Lac du Chevril holds the memory of the old village beneath its waters. Suman takes it all in, curious as ever, while Jonny is already slowing down, waiting for a particular light that only he seems to have noticed before lifting his camera.
Winter avalanches have changed the trails. One closure sign appears. Then another. Then a third. Our planned route is gone. Jonny shrugs. “At least no one else will take the same path as us.” Kika is already leaning over the map. A few minutes later, we are walking in a different direction.
We climb towards a small chapel above the gorge, follow old waymarks that have almost faded away, cross scree slopes and find a long-forgotten passage. The detour leads us into a wilder mountain landscape than we had expected.
At Plan Fournier, we put our packs down in the grass. Water runs between the chalets. The hamlet seems suspended in time. We stop for a simple picnic before making our way to Pralognan by a route we had never planned to take.
That eventful day plants an idea. The via ferrata, mentioned only as a possibility, naturally finds its place in the following day’s plans.
Marius, a friend and mountain guide, meets us at the foot of the cliff. Catherine hesitates as she looks out across the drop. We try the first few metres. Arms tense; legs say what words have not yet found. She decides to meet the group farther along. Nobody presses her. A few zip lines later, laughter echoes across the valley, and we all come together again.
We pick up our packs and head towards the Refuge de la Vanoise. Lac des Vaches reflects the Aiguille de la Vanoise. Ariane, quieter at first, gradually finds her place in this already close-knit group. Suman is still full of wonder. Jonny keeps an eye on the light, and his dry humour arrives at just the right moment.
Few more pictures, just for the pleasure.
