Just to set the scene, here's a summery of what you'd expect to observe on a leisurely stroll thought the Chamonix high street on a sunny day at the height of the winter season:
You'd better hope you're sober and not in a rush, as traversing between tourists who can't take their eyes off the mountains proves difficult, and if you're still drunk from the night before... or in the early stages of a hangover, you'll be looking at the floor, so this proves equally disastrous. If you try and take over large groups of slow-moving tourists, make sure you say, "Pardon" and don't touch them, else they'll get angry, or you could ruin one of a billion Mont Blanc photo compositions. Watch out for luxourious-looking rats that pose as expensive dogs, there are too many to avoid and they make a god-awful noise if stepped on, and also, their owners are so attached to these small balls of scrawny in-bred K9 that you could probably end up with a massive law suit on your hands. The bigger husky-type dogs are much more entertaining and often more accommodating, but a lot of big, big doggies (like St Bernard's or bigger) dribble on you or sit on you, so don't touch or look at them too intently.
The French love their dogs, and Chamonix is a very rich resort, so don't under estimate the seriousness of their affections... and never laugh at the silly jackets that often match the owners outfits or hand-luggage. As well as fancy dogs and tourists, you'll also notice the odd celebrity mingling in the shadier places... so yes, maybe keep your eyes at eye level now. Last year it was Kylie in No Escape (a not-too-grimy strip club), Penelope Cruz, Matt from Busted (in Le Terrasse, where I worked), and a famous cricketer who's name escapes me. So far this year we've had: Kate Moss, Ralph Little (drank in the pub that I am working in now) and boxing hopeful Amir Khan, and it's only March! I just found out that a friend of a friend was sacked from their chalet-hosting job for leaking a juicy piece of gossip to the press regarding one of the chalets guests: Tiger Woods' wife at the time of THAT embarrassing incident. Poor woman... just when she thought she had found a safe haven to retreat to...
Back to the street-voyuering:
Everyone you pass will have the rudimentary baguette in hand... so make sure you do the same, and purchase earlier rather than later in the day, as they go stale pretty quick. Whatever the locals are doing (be it driving, cycling, dog walking, on phone, shouting) they will always have either a baguette or a cigarette in their hand/s.... haven't seen any onion-strung necks or strings of garlic yet... but maybe that's a rural thing?! Another thing I'd add is to smile at all old people... they seem to like shouting at tourists, and young people.... so it's best to have them on your side. (I was recently on the receiving end of a torrent of incomprehensible abuse from an old French man in my apartment block. I had just walked in the front door. That was all. I know that a lot of the residents are old there, and they complain about people using the stairs in the evening and moan if you take any ski kit into your flat.... but still - I hadn't done ANYTHING!) I was extremely hungover and unable to retort, as my French is so poor... I wanted to cry, that seemed like the only conceivable option at the time.
The other thing I've noticed in Chamonix is that there is a massive gap between the rich 'second home owners' and the 'seasonaires' that populate the town. It feel so similar to when I was studying in Cornwall... and I guess it's a very familiar cultural divide as with many resort/tourist towns around the world. We seasonaires are seen as the scum of the earth to the people who populate this town in the holidays, and yet, most of us provide the valuable work-force that keeps them happy and provides them with all the luxurious trappings they take for granted when they arrive in there Porche 4x4s at the weekends. Believe me, I've cleaned enough chalets to realise that there is another side to Chamonix that I will never experience (underfloor heating/marble baths/extinct animal shag-piles/fully-stocked Champagne fridges) unless I marry a millionaire. The seasonaires are an eclectic mix of lost-young-souls looking to escape 'real-life', or wishing to pursue an extreme lifestyle in an area of sublime beauty. We appreciate each day that we get to wake up surrounded by the mountains, work extremely hard to afford the French resort cost of living (approx. £1.30 for a tin of beans) and of course play very hard to reward ourselves for being alive at the end of a crazy day of skiing and to celebrate mountain life. I'm not joking when I say that living here really makes you realise how fragile life is and how much you should appreciate what you've got, wherever you are.
Before I get too deep and meaningful, I'd better add on a few more characters that you're likely to encounter should you decide to embark on a six-month-party-fueled winter season in France:
French Rude Boys
Easily the most entertaining sight to behold in a resort. Let me describe the style first; colour is king and the more neon the better. Clashing neon wins browny points: even your blind grandmother will spot these kids from a town away. Brands are very important too. I think these kids either all have very rich parents or literally spend the whole rest of the year saving up for the latest Special Blend jacket or Burton gloves. Ski pants are baggy, often hiked up to just below the knee with long socks on show and prize trainers in full view: one wonders if they have even been up the hill, where are their ski/board boots, huh?
Hair is usually just the right length to peep out in curly torrents under a hard flat cap placed at exactly the right angle and orientation of peak. They have a distinctive swagger that makes them look like wanna-be surfer dudes... low and loose. Some carry their boards with them everywhere, but more often than not, they're using their hands to smoke or to swig from illegal bottles of beer or vodka. Most are under-age, but they seem to get away with consuming a successful amount of booze in front of the many late-night sandwich shops... I know, I've been offered a swig many times whilst waiting for a snack. Completely harmless, these boys are all about style, cheeky charm and fairly-innocent adolescent behaviour.
Scandies
I am not friends with the 'Scandie' crowd. Probably because I'm not cool enough, ah well.
The Scandies have a massive presence in Chamonix, (because Chamonix is the best, most extreme resort in the world, yah?) and as with the French Rude Boys, they are very, very, very easy to spot. They obviously take a lot of time to perfect their look, so already you're intrigued when you see a group of them because most of the young people you see in Cham are pretty casual in appearance in comparison. Not meaning to stereotype: but the girls look pretty classic: long blond hair, slightly greasy (to show all the hard work they've done off piste that day) and tussled, aviator sun glasses, skinny jeans, white shirts with a boho edge. They've been up since dawn to catch the first tracks on a powder day, so they can't look too contrived. Natural. Beautiful: I'm not jealous one fraction...
The boys have a more groomed look, though they don't have to bother with makeup, so they probably have more time to get ready than the girls. During the skiing day, they'll be sporting the PHATTEST powder skis imaginable.... as big as two snowboard welded together times two. Their ski gear also takes a neon theme, though it's not as rude a style as the French boys. At apres or maybe on a leisure day they will be found in packs of three or four, mirrored aviators on, slicked back hair - either with powder-day sweat or pomade. They also tend to wear skinny jeans and lumber-jack-type shirts and maybe a leather jacket: the Stockholm look basically. They are all very skinny and tall, so this look is effortless and elegant. Almost too cool for school... definitely too intimidating for lowly-types like me to approach...
