The Big Pretty

After much obstination and waving off, Hillary and I have decided to break the digital silence and start a blog. Our intention is to keep you, friends, family and generally people we care about, in the loop and up to date on what we’re up to over here. We also view this blog as something of a propaganda outlet aimed at persuading as many of as you as possible to come out this way for a visit. We would like to think that our motivation is centered more on the sharing of adventures than shameless self-promotion, but you all will have to be the judge of this.

The lovely Lycée Pierre du Terrail, where I worked 0ctober-April.

This past fall (2010) I moved to Grenoble, France, to begin fully part-time work as an English Teaching Assistant at a nearby high school. While many of my assistant colleagues spent their abundant free time traveling to and from the far ends of Europe, I admit that I have yet to leave the immediate Alps region of France in the eight months since my arrival. “On n’est pas bien là?” (please consult list of French expressions) I say. My work at the high school wrapped up at the end of April in a flurry of flowers, candy and cheap champagne. As May begins, I find myself staring down three months of underemployment working as an English tutor and above all indulging in as much time in the mountains as possible. Primary goals for this summer include 1) surviving the oppressive Grenoble heat in our windowless loft under a black roof 2) ticking off long alpine climbs because I like it and also in order to one day maybe if everything goes just right get accepted into the guide de haute montagne program here in France and 3) getting on a first name basis with two very important yet aloof people in my life, the neighborhood baker and the local café/bar owner.

The Rivermede Farm crew looking its best - Simon,

Maggie, Hillary and myself.

In mid-November, after wrapping up work at Rivermede Farm in Keene Valley, NY, Hillary headed this way on a three-month tourist visa to try on the Grenoble lifestyle. She found work almost immediately taking care of a local family’s two kids and teaching them English. She also found the combination of mountains, culture by which I mean tasty cheese, wine and baked goods, and community here sufficiently enticing to make the ongoing visa battle with the French bureaucracy worthwhile. In early April, she returned from a round trip back to the US with a six-month visa in hand. Yes, it is the same visitor’s visa that an elderly wealthy American would receive in order to retire to France. And yes, just recently Hillary was offered a job teaching English at a nearby Montessori school for the remainder of this school year and the next. Already converted to the Hillary Gerardi Fan Club and decidedly unconcerned with work visa status, the mothers of Montessori children have insisted that she begin work - as a volunteer of course - on Monday. Hillary is also taking nightly French classes four days a week on the local university campus, perfecting her unique blend of Spanish-accented Italian-faced French. Some of Hillary’s goals for the summer include 1) being mistaken at least once for a French native during conversation with a local yocal 2) persuading Brad to leave his beloved tower in favor of an apartment with “walkable” floor space i.e. takes more than one stride to get from one end to the other 3) blasting through the glass ceiling of chauvinist expectations for a woman’s ability to climb by showing up our male French friends on the cliff and 4) discovering the holy grail explanation for why French people ruthlessly trim the branches off all otherwise pretty trees in the spring time.

Quarter Saint Laurent is the band of buildings sandwiched between the

Isère river and the woods. Our roof is the pointy black tower roughly equidistant

between the two bridges.

And now for a brief word about the setting - we live in a 16 sq. m studio on the fifth floor of a 16th Century tower in a quirky Italian neighborhood known for its aversion to bourgeois newcomers. Just down the street there is an unremarkably outrageous bakery that receives close to 100% of our euro change. We drive a 1999 Renault Clio “Chipie” named after a teenage girl’s clothing line, whose size prevents my lanky self from sitting up straight in the driver’s seat. It’s the kind of car that makes one breath a sigh of relief with every successful engine start and completed round trip. Although never the fastest car out there on the road, the Chipie has proven her worth time and time again with steadfast performance on some of the more harrowing access roads in the land…

As per expectations, most of my posts here will be about adventures in the mountains. Every once and a while there might be an aside from the happenings of daily life in Grenoble, but let’s be honest, “on n’est pas là pour acheter du terrain,” and my non-mountain, non-teaching days at home can be summed up pretty quickly – sleeping in, copious coffee and croissants, trips to the outdoor markets (and also to the French equivalent of Walmart, Carrefour, alas), punctuated by the occasional evening of two-tree glasses too many of wine. Another favorite rest day activity includes “bricolage,” or tinkering, which is frequently required to win the war against humidity, mold, peeling paint, and poorly bonded trim, all delightful amenities of a vintage medieval living space. Mostly I just want to give fair warning that, at the risk of monotony, the majority of the photos and text are going to involve rock, snow, sky and little people clambering about. As for what Hillary will decide to write about, your guess is as good as mine – screaming Montesorri children, her attempts to cook enough food to keep me away from the fridge for more than an hour, all subjects demanding intellect…

The chronicle starts now, but we will include a greatest hits compilation of photos and video dating back to the early days of our time here in France, beginning with my brother’s visit to Grenoble over Christmas and New Years. My main hope is that these posts will give you, friends and family, a better idea of where most of our time and energy is going these days. Please get back to us and let us know what’s new in your lives. In the meantime we’ll try to keep it light, considering that in the end the true subject here is beaucoup de playtime with good folks in big pretty mountains.

Ongoing list of translated French expressions

on n’est pas bien là? – are we not well here? – this is where it’s at

bricolage – tinkering - handywork

on n’est pas là pour acheter du terrain - we’re not here to buy land – we’re not here to mess around

on n’est pas là pour branler les mouettes is also said – we’re not here to jerk off seagulls!

Greatest hits recap to present:

Check out Hillary's photosite, We Are Here to Buy Land

Christmas-New Years

Brother Buke comes to visit for two weeks of ski touring and general shinanigans. Here is the link to the resulting video, Peanut Butter and Jelly is for Dummies

January

Hillary and I get after the Mont Aiguille (2085m) by the Regular Route for an intro to "winter" climbing around here.

A four hour drive brings us to the coast for a weekend of exploring and climbing in the Calanques de Marseille. This remains the furthest I've travelled from Grenoble - c'est grave quand même...

February

Hill and I motivate for a winter ascent of the Grand Pic de Belledonne (2977m) by the North Ridge (lefthand skyline in the photo below). We are reminded that snow shoeing just isn't that cool.

March

Olivier and I head to the Ecrins massif for ski touring on the Combeynot Est (3145m) and the Beaudoin (2843m).

Bike-to-climbing from downtown Grenoble with Hill.

Andy Hail(storm) takes a break from med school in Boston for victory laps on the Arrête des Cosmiques on the Aiguille du Midi and a ski descent of the Vallée Blanche in Chamonix.

April

I play hooky for a day to ski the Govard Couloir on la Dent Parachée (3697m) with Manu, Olivier and Toz. Two weeks earlier, I had been in the same neighborhood of the Vanoise with Christophe.

Hill and climb the Tête Sud de la Sainte Marguerite (2890m) near la Grave.

Weekend of hanging out and climbing with François and Mathilde at their family's place in la Grave. Here is a link to François' apparel company, Pop Funky Wear!