France 

Megève - Scenic Superiority

By Mitch Kaplan

By the time my ski companions and I reached Megève, the final leg of our whirlwind six-day French Alps tour, I faced exhilarated exhaustion. Too many long, fine days spent on- and off-piste in vast snowfields. Too many superb meals rich with cheeses, broiled meats, excellent wines and tongue-tantalizing deserts.

But, a breather wasn’t going to happen here.

We arrived and, zap!, we were riding three gondolas and a chairlift to the trails of Mont Joux for a day of high-speed chases behind former world champion and 1960 Olympian Adrien Duvillard, and Adrien, Jr., himself a former French Ski Team member.

The Duvillards represent the historical and traditional pedigree found in Megève, where local families, ski history and style have long come together. Megève originated when the Rothschilds, the great 19th century French banking family, came here to build a mountain retreat. They ended up with a whole town.

Charming? To say the least. Upscale? Yes. But, upscale in a quiet, unpretentious way.

Megève is anchored by a delightful pedestrian-only zone, highlighted by a town square bordered by well-preserved 18th-century buildings and an impressive church. Rife with stone buildings, bistros, galleries, restaurants, a casino and chic shops, the narrow side streets exude just the right antique ambience.

A fleet of brightly-painted, horse-drawn sleighs, driven by local farmers, tour the town or function as pricey taxis. A somewhat chintzy cliche, true, but charming. And, especially popular with kids.

Expensive is the retail by-word, with most of the big names present: Quicksilver, Colmar, Diesel, Ralph Lauren, Burberry, Dior. Maison Aallard on the main square, painted an eye-searing yellow, is a must-see even for non-shoppers.

We met with Jean Paul Allard, a diminutive man, sporting long white hair and displaying an almost hyper-energetic, "get it done" mien. Jean Paul’s grandfather, Armand Allard invented the "fuseau" - the streamlined, stirruped, ski pant - here in 1930. The pants, more aerodynamic than that era’s woolen pantaloons, revolutionized ski racing when Emile Alais wore them while winning the World Championships in 1937. Jean Paul still sells the fuseau, although they're worn mostly apres-ski now.

Not all is antique in Megève. At the très-moderne, glass-facaded Sports Centre, the opportunities to strain your muscles run from ice skating and weight lifting to rock climbing and swimming. Want to work your brain? The library, equipped with multiple computer stations, is in there, too.

Still, Megève’s highlight lies in its geologic drama. Everywhere, stark granite walls lead to snow-capped peaks. Guided on our second day around the peaks Alpette and Cote 2000 by Andre Bachleda, yet another former French national team member, I slowed my skis to a crawl and focused on the vistas. Because, really, Megève’s scenery stands out. I mean, even while relieving myself at an on-slope toilette, I peered through a small window at fantastic views. C’est magnifique, n’est-pas?