Though written in the present tense, the description below is my memory of a trip that was taken 27 years ago. Adjust your expectations of reality accordingly (the dog was real though – a fixture in the town).
The mountains are high and craggy – without any of the many-layered safety gates and warning signs of US ski areas. Chamonix is a stately cone in the distance. The air is clear and the sun is warm when you stop in a hollow for a bite of chocolate. The snow is a thick layer of powder, making skiing effortless.
Down in the village, a dog follows his master, helping with the daily errands and looking like something out of a hokey French film: there is even a baguette poking out of the basket he carries.