I T ’ S FR ANCE ’ S
FAMOUS
TAR ENTA I S E VA L L E Y,
BUT AS I ’ VE NE VER
S EEN I T B EFOR E .
I’ve just been dropped off by helicopter atop the 3,066mMont Miravidi, a
distinctive peak opposite Mont Blanc on the Italian side of the border that looms
over the entire region.
As the beat of the chopper blades recedes, my friend Chris and I stare in open-
mouthed silence at the panorama before us. From the Matterhorn and Les Arcs, to
distant Méribel and the mighty La Meije, famous resorts and mountains lie in every
direction. Behind us, the summit ridge of Mont Blanc gleams with crystalline detail
in the morning sun.
For a pair of mountain geeks like us, it’s quite a moment. Back in the 90s, when
I first started snowboarding, Chris and I used to gaze at this distant peak from the
window of his grubby seasonaire shoebox apartment, tracing invisible lines down
its flanks in the belief that we’d never actually be able to carve real ones on it, as
there were no lifts. Now, almost 20 years later, we’re actually about to snowboard
down the thing.
“See you at the bottom!” Chris calls back over his shoulder, as he drops in before
me. We’re soon in an enormous valley as big as most average ski resorts – only this
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