For someone who loves baths so much, I’m really not very good at them. I find it hard to sit still. My life as an avid ‘do-er’ has had its rhythms of fast and slow, its changes in pace, but it was only when I started taking my yoga seriously that I realised the important part pauses play in that rhythm.

However, in an ironic twist, and who says The Great Creator doesn’t have a sense of humour, it seems that pauses are easier to slip into after a period of exercise. So in order to successfully stop… we need to start. And here’s where my bathing ritual comes into play. Instead of just sitting there in the bath, wondering what else is going on in the world, I now do a few gentle stretches which signal to my body and mind that savasana – that Holy Grail of yoga – is on it’s way.

Here’s the little yogic bathtime routine I’ve developed. Try it for yourself… you might like it!

While the bath is running I now focus on creating a calm atmosphere in the bathroom, rather than running in and out, doing stuff in the other room. I’ve found – unsurprisingly – that this helps me keep an eye on the temperature of the water as I’m not a big fan of chilly bum and boiling toes (let alone the other way around!). I have a selection of homemade bath oils and remedies, which I’ll share more about in the coming weeks. But a couple of firm favourites are a handful of Epsom Salts to ease tired muscles and encourage dextoxification, or a stocking filled with oats hanging below the faucet to soothe dry, itchy skin.

I turn off the lights, put some candles on the edge of the bath and choose a guided meditation. I’m a big fan of Marianne Williamson and find her On Health Meditation (from Meditations for a Miraculous Life) great for the bath. I also take some time to connect with my breath in Tadasana (mountain pose).

With feet hip-width apart and arms by my side I brace myself against gravity, elongating the entire body and feeling the link in my abdomen between the grounding pull of the earth on my lower body and the celestial pull of the stars on my spine. I focus on my breath.

Once in the water I gently allow my hips to open while treating my feet and ankles to a massage in a posture that is similar to Shroni Chakra (hip rotation). Sitting in the bath, extend the right leg in front of you and bend the left at the knee. Open the left leg at the hip and hug the left knee into the chest, holding it firmly with the left arm, the knee in the crook of the elbow. Hold the left foot with the right hand, raise the lower leg towards the chest and sit-up straight. Interlace the fingers of the right hand with the toes of the left foot and gently make five ankle rotations in one direction, five in the other. Try to give all control to the right hand, relaxing the foot and allowing the ankle to move passively. Repeat on the other side.

Take a few moment to relax and recover. Next, extend the right leg in front of you and bend the left at the knee. Either leave the left foot to the left of the right knee, or – to increase the stretch – place it gently on the right side of the right knee. Hug the left knee into the chest with the right arm, extend your spine towards the sky and gently rotate your trunk to the left, continuing the twist into your neck. Hold for six gentle, deep breaths and release. Repeat on the other side. This is a gentle preparation for Ardha Matsyendrasana (half spinal twist).

Relax and recover once again before moving into Paschimottanasana (seated forward bend). I like to practice this pose in two stages, the first with the back straight and focus on extension, the second with a rounded back and sensation of folding. Extend both legs straight in front of you and hold together. Place the hands in prayer position and inhale as you extend the arms up to the sky. As you exhale, tilt the trunk forwards at the hips. Try to maintain a straight back, open the chest and rest the hands gently on the legs or feet. Stay here for six gentle breaths. Then, on the inhale, extend the arms ahead of you and re-straighten the back. As you exhale allow the bank to curve as you bend towards your legs, aiming for your chest on your thighs and face towards your ankles. Please be sensible here about the depth of the water!

And now, time for savasana. Before taking this position I like to press play on my guided meditation, then relax all tension from my body allowing the water to support my joints. Bliss!

Please note: in all these postures, the warmth of the water and relaxing atmosphere will allow your muscles to stretch further than normal. Please don’t push yourself in these poses, respect your body’s limits and don’t take advantage of your increased flexibility… it’ll be just as sore out of the bath if you over-extended in the bath.

Om shanti. Enjoy.

The yogic path encourages us to pay attention (4th Niyama: swadhyaya – self-study) and to look after ourselves and our environment (2nd Yama: ahimsa – non-violence). With this in mind – and at the request of a dear friend and US-based yogini – I’ve prepared a post on homemade cleaning products, that have a minimal impact on the environment.

Please note that these are recipes and methods I’ve been using for a few years and have found to be both efficient and cheap. However, the responsibility for using these ideas is entirely your own.

Let’s start in the kitchen
Changing the way you wash your dishes is perhaps the quickest and easiest step towards homemade eco- (and pocket-)friendly cleaning. We scrub a piece of loofah against a block of Marseille soap then on the dish, rinse and leave to dry. So simple!

The loofah is a natural sponge, so a great alternative to synthetic sponges which aren’t biodegradable. You will more usually find loofah in the bathroom, where it can be used in the shower or bath with soap or oil to exfoliate the body (but not your face: it’s too harsh for the fine facial skin). When the loofah has come to the end of it’s kitchen/bathroom life, you can pop it on the compost or in the bin, safe in the knowledge that it will decompose naturally.

Marseille soap is a traditional and natural vegetable oil soap. A similar type of soap is Castile soap (traditionally Spanish, whereas the Marseille soap is French). Here in France it’s still a relatively popular cleaning product and can be bought in either the cleaning aisle or the bathroom aisle of the supermarket or organic store. The difference is that those in the bathroom aisle tend to be made from olive oil which gently moisturises your skin but won’t be too good for greasy dishes. The one we use for the dishes is a glycerine based version, and so a bit drier on the skin. I prefer to use bars of soap over washing-up liquid in bottles as they result in less waste.

If you prefer a liquid for the dishes, you can create a washing-up liquid with the Marseille soap by simply grating 30g into a pan, adding a litre of water and bringing to the boil. Once the soap has melted into the water you can add up to 10 drops of an essential oil (lavender, tea tree, lemon or sweet orange are good as they all have natural antiseptic properties) stir well and leave to cool in a jar. This liquid can then be kept in the fridge and decanted to a bottle beside the sink as and when you need it. We did this for a while but The Boyfriend didn’t like the gloopy texture so we went back to using the soap itself.

I’ve also found that white vinegar helps with particularly greasy dishes and glasses. Once you’ve given the glass a good scrub with the soap and loofah, rinse in cold water then dunk into a bowl of water to which you’ve added a dash of white vinegar.

Naturally clean clothes
When travelling I simply take a lump of Marseille soap with me for body and clothes. A great travelling tip I learned when inter-railing in Eastern Europe is to pop your lump of soap in the end of a stocking and tie a knot so the soap is tightly wrapped in the stocking. This means the soap doesn’t disintegrate and provides a little texture when rubbed against your face or body; quick and easy exfoliation. When not in use, I keep the soap (in it’s stocking) in a plastic bag.

When at home we use whatever the organic store can offer for cleaning clothes. I’ve tried the balls that you use over and over in the machine. I found they were okay on cleaning but as they’re not fragranced didn’t leave any smell, which is an occupational hazard when you try to cut down on chemicals as they’re often added to provide the nice smell and soft feel of your clean, dry clothes.

We’re about to try flakes of Savon d’Alpe (also called Aleppo soap) which is another variation on the natural Marseille/Castile soap but this time the recipe originated in Syria. My only concern with this is that you’re supposed to use it in a 90º wash and we usually go for 30º washes as they use less energy and are more gentle on textiles. Perhaps the solution is to use a variety of methods because I do find that whenever I visit my mother in London and she does my washing with regular washing powder (and therefore less concern for the environment) that my clothes do come out a bit cleaner.

With this in mind I have to confess to also owning and using two very un-organic products for stains: K2R and a specialist product for sweat and deodorant stains. I justify this in that the odd use of a highly chemical product to remove the stubborn and inevitable stains is better than using a non-organic cleaning product on a regular basis.

Of course we’re all aware of how much energy tumble-driers use. This also makes them expensive. If I had one, I wouldn’t use it. Line-drying is my preferred way to dry the washing as your clothes benefit from the smell of the fresh air and sunshine naturally helps to bleach whites. However, living in a tiny apartment we use a clothes horse to dry our washing overnight; although I long for a garden and a clothes line!

Keeping life fresh
We have a couple of diffusers (one electric, one candle-powered) in which we burn essential oils. I’m currently burning 6 drops mandarine and 4 drops lavender, a blend that’s supposedly good for irritability and that I find both fresh and relaxing. Fresh flowers and pots of herbs are also a good, natural way to scent your home.

I keep a bottle of lemon essential oil in our WC and leave the lid off when necessary. I also mix 2-3 drops in water in a 4oz spray bottle for a quick spritz. Lemon essential oil has natural antiseptic properties.

Natural cleaning power
When it comes to the hardcore cleaning, a bit of elbow grease is always a better option than strong chemical products. I’ve tried a few versions of this all-purpose cleaner and this is by far the best:

1/4 cup white vinegar
1/2 teaspoon liquid soap or detergent
2 cups of water
Shake together in a spray bottle and get cleaning.

I use this for cleaning windows, mirrors, non-wooden surfaces, bathroom tiles, sinks, toilets and baths. To give the bathroom a quick once-over I simply spray this on the mirror and sink, then buff to a shine with a microfibre cloth. These can be used over and over again, don’t leave a fluffy residue and are super-absorbent. If there are tough water marks or stains, I spray and leave for a few minutes before tackling with the cloth or my trusty loofah (obviously, keep the ones you use for your body separate from those you use for cleaning!).

This spray can also be used to clean the outside of the toilet. For the bowl I’ll sprinkle in a tablespoon of bicarbonate of soda (also known as baking soda) and scrub with the brush. We also do have regular toilet cleaner from the organic store, for back-up.

For serious bathroom cleaning – I’m talking bath scuzz after a muddy day or the bottom of the shower tray – I use a product we have in France called ‘Pierre d’Argent’… or silver stone. This little green tub holds an abrasive white paste that you apply in circles with the yellow sponge. You then rinse off while gently scrubbing and buff to a shine. It’s amazing on the most disgusting of bathrooms and kitchens and I’d know as I’ve helped a few cleaning-deficient friends get their apartments up to scratch for the end of season inspection. Again, the buffing can be done with a microfibre cloth or even an old bath towel.

This product may not be available where you live, but maybe there’s something similar. If not, some bicarbonate of soda on a sponge will do the trick as it’s eco-friendly, kinda soapy and abrasive.

Dealing with drains
Sometimes we’re all too quick to reach for the caustic drain cleaner, when simply getting the rubber plunger out will do the trick. If your drains are really getting stinky and plunging doesn’t help, then I recommend the following recipe. However, this method isn’t suitable for plastic pipes as the boiling water may melt them! Also, wear gloves and protect your clothes as the bicarbonate of soda/vinegar combination can burn… in fact, it must burn in order to disintegrate the soap scuzz and hair blocking your drains. So, proceed with care:

Drain all water from the sink or bath and pour 1 cup of bicarbonate of soda down the drain, trying not to spill any round the edges.
Pour about 2 cups of boiling water down the drain. Bicarbonate of soda, mixed with boiling water will dissolve the muck in the pipe.
Wait a few minutes before pouring 1 more cup of bicarbonate of soda down the drain.
Then, add 1 cup of white vinegar and plug the drain immediately (if you’re unclogging a double sink, plug both drains) so you don’t breathe-in the fumes that result from the chemical reaction.
When the bubbles have died down, pour more boiling water down the drain to push the dissolved gunk through the system.
Repeat – with care – as necessary.

As a precautionary maintenance measure, you can also pour 1 cup of bicarbonate of soda down your drains, followed with boiling water, once a month.

Facing the future
In the past few months I’ve also extended my minimum-chemical philosophy to personal hygiene, finding ways to create my own face wash, moisturiser, deodorant etc. I’ll write another post soon covering these topics and sharing my recipes.

But for now, I hope you enjoy your cleaning knowing you’re doing more for yourself and your environment. Do feel free to share this post and spread the word that organic options don’t mean grubby options!

Namasté.

This morning I saw a wild white crocus bud pushing through the mulch that appears once the snow has melted into the earth on the south-facing slopes. This afternoon, a lizard zoomed across the tarmac of the car park outside our apartment building. Spring is here.

And yet… and yet… I’m still not convinced.

Yesterday we escaped resort and spent the afternoon in the local town of Vizille. It’s a strange, industrial town when you see it from the dual carriageway that skirts round its edge. But once you get into the centre you find a real French town going about it’s business.

The central road was closed for improvements and enormous yellow signs told drivers there was a ‘déviation’, but there were no actual signs directing the traffic to its destinations. Until… until… you turned the car around, went back the way you came, and were inundated with options on how to get to the local city, neighbouring towns and nearest ski resorts.

Wandering the streets we found higgledy piggledy houses, built on top of one another, atop the running water from the small river that bisects the grounds of the local chateau. There was a pharmacy; closed. A supermarket; closed. A betting shop/coffee shop; open. The carousel just outside the chateau walls opened as the schools closed, bringing shrieks of joy and tinny music to the quiet square, whose walls were lined with posters advertising a Jean-Jacques Rousseau exhibition.

Vizille, you see, was the home of the French Revolution, where opposition to the absolute monarchy of the French royal family was first publicly and politically debated in 1788. The chateau – which houses a museum of artefacts from the 18th century – and the gardens are open to the public. And this was our destination. The Boyfriend’s attempt to prove to me that Spring really is here. The winter is nearly over. I can breathe again.

I feel like I’ve been holding my breath since December. Praying and gritting my teeth, willing the season over while trying hard to remain present. And now it is nearly over, I can’t quite believe it. It’s almost as if I’m trying to protect myself from the false hope of impending freedom. Because, if it’s not true, if the winter isn’t nearly over, I don’t know what I’ll do.

For me, the end of the season, the end of my work contract is just over four weeks away. Five work weeks, if we’re counting that way, which I do. Five work weeks. And in that time I have friends coming to ski, my family coming to see me, a couple of end-of-season parties. I’ll sell my last passes, book my last instructors, clear my desk and step out of my dark little office onto the melting snow knowing I’ll never come back.

And then… and then… what? I don’t know. There are big changes afoot. Big plans to start living the philosophies I study and connect too. Abundance. Metaphysics. Faith. And until those five work weeks are up, I’ll keep coming back to the photographs I took yesterday, the physical proof that Spring really is here. That I’m okay, I survived, I can breathe once again.

And I’ll come back to those ‘déviation’ signs. The bright yellow placards that give you all the information except the guidance you really need, that one arrow that points you where you want to go.

And I’ll remember that sometimes you have to stop, turn right around, take a deep breath and soften your gaze to allow the next signpost come into focus.

I can’t deny that quitting my job, abandoning my yoga-teaching plans and leaving The Boyfriend to pay the rent while I hid-out in India or Les Deux Alpes wasn’t a huge temptation; but in the end it seemed all to easy to run from my commitments and turn my back on the challenges I’d set myself.

After all, nobody forced me to move here in the first place. And let’s face it, I’m so blessed to have a job, a home, a partner, clean air, hot water and fresh food. Then of course, there’s the view…

But still something is tugging on my soul. I enjoy my job but I don’t feel it’s my life purpose to sell ski school lessons and lift passes, no matter how fun and friendly the tourists can be. And I love The Boyfriend, all we are, how far we’ve come and all we will be. But how can I be fully present and open when I feel so unlike my full-self, just a shadow of who I know I can be? When I’m torn between household stuff, earning money and squeezing-in moments dedicated to finding and living my purpose, life – the fully-lived and conscious enlightened life that I’m seeking – seems just too challenging. I feel alone in my quest, discouraged in my darkness, lost in my own snowstorm.

And in these moments, when I wrap myself around a cup of tea, huddle into the corner and try not to cry, the last thing I want to do is the one thing I know will help. Why is this? What dark force trips me up in my desolation, perpetuating the cycle of self-loathing, paralysing me in my mind? Is it habit? A predisposition to darkness? Lack of commitment to the Truth?

Or a crippling ability to over-think and berate myself for each tiny decision, going round and round in circles until the minutes have slipped by and I find myself without time to nurture, take positive action or just stop the jabbering of my darkest mind and pause, drop into silence and just accept the moment without trying to protect myself from it’s vicious fangs or turn my back against the pain it causes. Why can’t I do the one thing I know will help? Why can’t I just roll out my mat?

When I’m on my mat I am my self again, my best self. I drop out of the darkness, out of the ‘real’ world and into myself, into the light that lives within me, the steady flame whose flickering is all in my imagination. When I’m on my mat the crushing loneliness I feel here unfurls into independence, I’m no longer alone but ‘all one’.

And so maybe, just maybe, I’ve come back here in order to rediscover this part of myself; to reconnect with my deepest inner-self rather than flit from one superficial friendship to another. To focus on myself in the absence of distractions. To learn who I really am and just what I’m capable of being. As I twist my spine up into Ardha Matsyendrasana I feel the potential of the future; as I raise myself into Wheel Pose I feel the strength of my will; as I lie back into Shavasana, my most challenging position, I feel the peace of allowing myself to surrender into the moment.

Each day, as I face these challenges I will bring my faith, my practice, my light into the darkness I perceive surrounding me; knowing that it too has its purpose and all I need to do is change my mind to really start living the life I want to live. To break a cycle one must either step out or stop. I see now how invested I’ve become in seeing only darkness in this place; I choose to close my eyes and feel the light, to both step out and stop this madness. From Lesson 132 of A Course in Miracles:

‘There is no world apart from what you wish, and herein lies your ultimate release. Change but your mind on what you want to see, and all the world must change accordingly.’

Here’s to a more powerful and positive season, a peace-filled Christmas and an inspiring start to 2012 at home in Alpe d’Huez.

PS: went skiing yesterday and the snow’s pretty good, although it’s very cold and windy up top. For more on the conditions, check-out Alpe d’Huez Net

Living in the mountains is a daily blessing. We’re so grateful of the clean, fresh air, the stunning views and the ability to look down on the cloudy valley below, knowing we don’t have to stay down there too long. But despite living amidst the beauty, it’s all too easy to step into the darkness of ourselves and the transient. And boy is this a transient way of life… nothing teaches you better how to let go and live in the moment.

For five months of the year we dig ourselves out of our apartment buildings and wade through the snow to work, seeing little daylight and even less of the mountains. Then we spend the two mid-summer months – working, again, indoors – shielding from the scorching sun and advising visitors on how best to enjoy these stunning surroundings. The seasonal lifestyle leaves five months to really experience the meadows, peaks and forests.

But of course, there is such thing as too much. When I’m working, all I want is to escape onto one of the mountain paths, turn my back on this crazy tourist-filled town and walk for hours. And when I’m not working a million little jobs surface and the days fill themselves with the usual chores and admin tasks that we don’t have time for during the season.

When the to-do list is complete I find myself bored, so unstimulated by the lack of anything I consider creative or productive that I’m desperate to escape off the mountain, just to get some stimulation, some excitement, some human warmth. Where’s the balance in all of this? Where’s the joy?? I find myself constantly wishing for the something other than what I’m living. The sun and the views and the wild animals aren’t enough to soothe a soul that’s crying in the darkness, a soul lost and confused, unstimulated, unappreciated.

And I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep living this life. The on-off-on-off-again has to stop. Because it’s not just my soul that’s suffering, I don’t think this constant flipping between stress and lonliness can be doing my health any good; and of course, if I’m not working, I’m not earning anything.

I know myself well enough now to know that my soul needs me to be engaged in some sort of productive work; that a life of leisure isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I’ve been living in this constant state of flux for the past five years, not counting my first winter season and the subsequent year in a London office dreaming of France. I’m 33 and I’m starting to crave something more steady.

I know that stability is a state of mind, I understand that happiness comes in surrender to the inherently changeable nature of the universe, allowing ourselves to be swept along with the tide, rather than bracing ourselves against it. Resistance is a constant theme for me at the moment. What am I resisting? I’m certainly resisting against the life I’ve chosen, a life that I’m not enjoying or appreciating as much as I used to. But I’m also resisting change.

I’m resisting admitting this this isn’t necessarily for me any more. I’m so aware of how blessed I am to live this life that I feel guilty for wanting to change it. For wanting a life more in-tune with the seasons, a pace of life that’s more consistent, less jerky. And with these feelings of guilt and questions about the future I’m left feeling confused, trying not to resent the choices I’ve made in my life and the cold, north-facing apartment, in an empty block, in a town empty of everyone except builders and workmen.

So I’m leaving. Just for a short time. I have a visa for India. I’m going to learn how to become a yoga instructor. Then I’m going to lie on a beach and do a little exploring in Sri Lanka. And then I’m going to London to see my family and stock-up on British essentials like Cadbury’s chocolate and Marmite. This is my plan. I’ll be back just before the season starts, when the town will already be deep in snow (here’s hoping!). I’m going to let the wave of euphoria for the start of the new winter carry me into work, into creating yoga classes, into 2012.

Or, I might just take advantage of that six-month Indian visa, quit my job and stay away. Who knows. Right now the second option is the most tempting but the fact that it would be so easy to stay in India is what’s stopping me. I’ve never been one to take an easy path, I love a challenge and perhaps this is the key for me. The challenges I present myself in this seasonal lifestyle aren’t spread thinly enough. Each season I take on new responsibilities, jobs, commitments… and each interseason they drop away. We’re back to that on-off-on-off-again, the flickering lightbulb of my life.

I really have no solution, only a maze of questions. But just asking the questions is making me feel better. Knowing there are options and possibilities, admitting this is no longer for me, I feel a sense of relief. So, for the next few months I’ll continue to try to ground myself in the healthy daily practices of yoga, reading, writing and photography. No matter where I am in the world, no matter who I’m with, I pray that these little disciplines will keep me on the right track. And I pray in faith, knowing deep in my soul that my prayers have already been answered; it’s just the details that need to be allowed to fall into place.

The photographs accompanying this post were in and around Alpe d’Huez. They show the views along the path from the resort to the Col de Sarenne and the road from Villard Reculas to Huez. For more hikes in the area click here.

The streets were full of cycling enthusiasts, bedecked in their national flags and/or team colours. It seemed the entire population of Luxembourg had descended on Alpe d’Huez, creating a new national capital in the chalets opposite the ‘O’Bar.

The leading riders approached, their proximity announced by the blaring French TV commentary coming from new-Luxembourg across the road. Within seconds it was over.

The eventual winner and the riders who placed second and third, were followed by a stream of spare bicycles mounted on cars and photo-journalists on bikes.

I contented myself with hanging off the wall of the ‘O’Bar terrace, camera in one hand, weight on one foot. And despite the passing of this world class event through our small town, I found myself more attracted to photographing the reality of the two days, the impact on our lives.

So here follow some shots of the excited smiles, nose-to-tail caravans and fully-packed car parks in Alpe d’Huez this Thursday and Friday. For more, please visit take a look at the Destination Oisans Flickr page and keep up to date with the enhanced shots via Istagram, username “vixie2alpes”.

Want to get involved with Destination Oisans or life in Alpe d’Huez? Get in touch via email.

We’re preparing, once again, to open Alpe d’Huez on Saturday. Many businesses are already open, and you can smell the new season in the air. Or maybe that’s the smell of rubble and sawdust as workman and builders continue their renovations until the last minute? I prefer to think it’s the new flowers as they bloom, as layer upon layer appear in the grass and the undergrowth.

For me the pre-season days are a time of frustration, of limbo, of being neither here nor there. I love the emptiness of inter-season but crave the buzz of the season, spending time with people other than The Boyfriend. Our work rhythms directly oppose those of our clients and guests, so gearing ourselves up for the onslaught of visitors, full of enthusiastic questions (the same ones over and over again!) can be quite a psychological leap.

As always, I find the best way to cope with it is to try to remind myself why – in fact – I am here. I love the scenery, the smells, the feeling of fresh air filling my lungs. I love to wander for hours and not see anyone at all. I love to share the best routes and views with curious and like-minded visitors (hence the creation of Destination Oisans). I love experiencing the change of season, the lengthening nights, the slowly warming air.

This week I’ve been searching for my love once again. Erratic weather, caring for my sick sibling and a nasty bout of inter-season blues have kept me off the mountain. I’ve been here long enough to know that a good long walk on my own, preferably with at least two seriously steep sections, may not cure me of my malaise but will get my heart and body moving, shift some of the darkness in my mind and push the anger out of my lungs and into the air.

So on Tuesday, in desperation I slammed my feet into my trainers and completed the loop down to Huez Village, along the Gorge de Sarenne and back into Alpe d’Huez in record time. The walk should take around four hours; my time of roughly three hours tells you how badly I needed to clear some psychic space.

It’s a stunning route and one I highly recommend. If you have transport you can drive either the first or the last section, or take the bubble lift down to Huez during the season. The only people I saw were some workmen and a shepherd. It was just the tonic I needed. Not quite enough to clear me completely, but enough to get me through the rest of the day.

Practical Information: From Alpe d’Huez follow Path 9 on the official
Alpe d’Huez Walking Map down to Huez Village, take Path 10/11 along the Gorge de Sarenne, up Path 12 to the road and either along the road back into resort or along the path alongside the archeological site.

For more information about walking in Alpe d’Huez, click here or visit the Destination Oisans Hiking page for more walks in the area.

The stats for this event are staggering: 4300 cyclists riding the bends six times to (hopefully) raise 20m€. And let’s not forget the stats of the course: the access road to Alpe d’Huez from Bourg d’Oisans is 14km long, rising over 1000m. An accomplished and fit cyclist would generally make the ascent in just over an hour, and Marco Pantani set the record for the Tour de France in 1997 with a time of 37 minutes and 35 seconds.

But today’s riders aren’t professionals; and rather than making just one ascent, the aim is to ride up and down the bends a total of six times, either as a team or alone. It’s massive test of endurance, both mental and physical. Watching the riders enter resort today I was amazed and inspired by their courage and determination. But I have to admit not feeling so positive about the event at the start of the week…

In fact, I’ve been a bit of a grouch since I realised just how many Dutch were arriving and how slowly they drive! It’s my first summer in Alpe d’Huez and my first experience of the HuZes. The mass arrival began last week. Overnight, all the cars on the roads and in the car parks were Dutch. All the voices in resort and Bourg d’Oisans were Dutch.

The supermarket shelves that normally hold on water, pasta and cereal bars were empty; and the campsites were full. The road up to Alpe d’Huez was littered with cyclists training for today’s event, and numerous Dutch cars driving at 20km/hr to encourage the cyclists. Not to mention those screaming down the hill, cutting corners and scaring the life out of careful overtakers!

Now, this being France, driving at 20km/hr on a 70km/hr road was intolerable for most and even I found myself cursing the pace of the drivers, to the point where I’ve not bothered trying to drive the bends since Sunday. On a trip to Les Deux Alpes during the week, I took the road over the Col de Sarenne instead, down through Clavans and Mizoen to the barrage.

Even here, on this one-track lumpy mountain road, I found myself stuck behind a gaggle of Dutch cyclists and a pink van with an inflatable white pig on top (?!?). Being stranded on our rainy mountain in June isn’t my idea of fun, but – with no sign of blue sky for over ten days – the campers had it worse! Thankfully today the rain has abated, the winds have died and there’s just enough cloud cover to protect the riders from an unexpected dose of sunstroke.

Walking up to the Palais des Sports, outside which the cyclists complete one circuit, the transformation of the resort is apparent. Any other nationality (and bear in mind, we are in France) is totally swamped by the Dutch. There are literally thousands and thousands in resort. The resort is covered orange banners and balloons. I heard no French or English voices, and saw no locals… everyone’s too busy working, making the most of this unexpectedly large event.

The cyclists started at 4am so some bars and restaurants have been open since 5am. It’s going to be a long day for everyone involved but with the great atmosphere, the adrenaline will get everyone through. With all the cheering, BBQs and excitement, it’s easy to forget the purpose of the event, and one at which it’s extremely successful; raising money to fight cancer.

One in three people in Holland develop cancer. That’s a huge proportion, and the aim of the organisers of the event is: “for cancer to evolve from a deadly disease into a chronic illness”. To this end the event aims to raise over 20m€ this year alone.

On my way home I spotted a row of photographs of those who have lost their fight against cancer. They were posted outside the church, an inspirational reminder to the cyclists of what it is they’re trying to achieve today, not a cure for cancer, but “to facilitate and inspire people to lead happy and healthy lives in harmony with cancer”.

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Of course there are always things to do, but they’re rarely exciting and usually involve some sort of French bureaucracy. For example, I spent two and a half hours in the tax office in Bourg d’Oisans yesterday, waiting for advice on my income tax form. Once that was completed I found myself with a free and sunny afternoon. What better way to pass a chunk of time than with a long walk with a good friend?

Our mission – because it’s always good to have a mission in life! – was to provide sugary sustenance to some friends who are renovating a chalet, and get a bit of a work-out at the same time. Louise had baked brownies, now we just needed to deliver them to the neighbouring village of Villard Reculas.

We set-off down the path from Alpe d’Huez to Huez Village. Starting next to the VFD office at the bottom of the resort, the path winds through the fields, cutting across the main road and through the back of the mini-village of Maona. Exploring Huez from the top is by far the best way, not just because it’s steep but because the most beautifully renovated barns seem to be clustered together at the top. We had a peek at some lovely modern stained-glass windows, bijou gardens and gravity-defying decking.

Once you reach the church, take the main road to the right and pass under the télévillage lift, the bubble lift that runs between the village and the resort. From here we took the road to Villard Reculas. It’s single-lane for most of the way and gives some great views of the valley as it’s literally cut into the cliff face. It’s generally a quiet road but do be aware that you share it with drivers who won’t be expecting pedestrians, so stay to the side of the oncoming traffic.

After the fairly steep descent into the village it was a relief to start slowly climbing up again. The road levels out after about ten minutes and it’s a gentle walk around the headland and into Villard Reculas. Here we stopped for a good hour to explore the chalet and share the brownies. The boys bought the chalet as a wreck and have completely reworked the inside, plus adding a new roof.

It’s now a self-catering luxury pad, the kind of place you dream of visiting… the master bedroom has a stunning view of the mountains and a bath right there in the room with you. The boys built it all with their own hands and the simple wood and white décor whispers of understated luxury.

Leaving the boys to finish building another staircase, we wound up through the village on the main road to the ski lifts. Here you take the path to the right, passing a small lake and it’s uphill all the way and through a few trees until you join the main path to Alpe d’Huez.

From here the path is reasonably flat, descending to the resort and popping you out by the Shanghri-La apartment building. Looking for a bit more of a challenge, we strayed off the main path and zig-zagged up a tiny track to the weather station on top of the ridge.

There’s a great view of Alpe d’Huez from here and the option to climb even higher to the top of the Signal, a route I took this winter. We opted for the lower path, which – after you walk the length of the ridge – slowly descends into the trees and brings you round the base of the Signal to the Rond Point des Pistes, the base of the DMC lift. A good afternoon’s hike!

More precise directions for this hike are difficult to provide, as the we took various paths marked on the official map but you can get an idea by following Route 9 to Huez, Route 8 to Villard Reculas and Route 13 to Alpe d’Huez.

Click on the links or on the menu above for more on Alpe d’Huez in the summer and hiking hiking in the Oisans region.

And then my breath kicks-in. And I realise that via ferrata isn’t just great for the body, it’s a mental sport too, requiring focus, strength and a kind, supportive, inner voice. A great lesson for life as well as for the rock face…

Via ferrata – for those who aren’t familiar with the term – can be directly translated from Italian to mean ‘iron way’. For those who are familiar, the term conjures up images of iron rungs bolted into the mountainside and a cord of metal that criss-crosses the cliff face. This is your iron way, your route up the mountain.

There are lots of via ferrata in the Oisans region and for our first attempt for the year we thought we’d keep it simple, opting for the découverte route in Alpe d’Huez, from the base of the Sarenne gorge. découverte simply means discovery, and differs from sportif in that the routes tend to be more like a scramble up the rocks via narrow paths, rather than comprising of long sections of rungs (which is what you’ll find on the sportif routes). At the bottom of the Sarenne gorge you have the option of either type of route and they cross mid-way, allowing you to try both disciplines in one hit.

Did I mention that the routes take you hundreds of metres off the ground? This means safety equipment is essential. You’ll need a climbing harness, a specialised via ferrata attachment (which comprises of two spring-lock carabiners on a short length of rope and a third which acts as a braking device), a helmet, comfortable clothing and trainers or other suitable outdoor shoes. You’ll also need a lot of guts, especially if you’re afraid of heights.

Via ferrata is a great way to combat fear and conquer your adrenaline. I’ve done a few via ferrata now, and a bit of climbing, but the first of the season is always terrifying. It took me a good hour regain confidence, not just in the safety equipment but also in my body. Trusting my hands not to simply let go of the rung at an inopportune moment took a lot of energy. And this is why my hands are burning now… I literally gripped and hauled my way up the rock face. Not great technique but for the first ascent of the season I’m just glad I made it. And this is why I persevere with the sport: it’s literally the most rewarding thing I’ve ever done.

When you’re on the face you’re part of a team and the team are there to support you and talk you through, when necessary. But essentially you’re on your own, in your head. And the way to talk to yourself when you’re coaxing yourself up and up and up is maybe the way we should coax ourselves through life. “Come on Vixie, [that's what I call myself in my head!] you can do this. Here’s another crossover. One carabiner to the next section of line. Done. The second. Done. Nice work. Check you’re secure. Now, get your right foot onto that rung and lean for the hand-hold. Secure? Edge the left foot along the rock and squeeze it onto the rung. Good. Secure. You’re doing well. You can do this. Breathe. Remember to breathe”.

The other beauty of the sport is that you can only deal with one section at a time and quite often you can’t see what’s ahead or below, so your only option is to focus on the job in hand. The strange peace that ascends as you move up section by section, staying solidly in the present is another lesson I think we can apply to our own lives. What’s the point in worrying about what’s to come or what’s behind us? Let’s just deal with what’s in front of us right now.

And then, before you know it, all your coaxing and inching up the rock face brings you to the top… that triumphant final haul over the last edge and you’re done. Hopefully with a big smile on your face as you realise what you’ve achieved and how – with all that focussing on the present moment – you’ve left all your other worries at the bottom of the route.

How to reach the Alpe d’Huez via ferrata: the route starts at the bottom of the Sarenne gorge, just upstream of the chairlifts. You can walk into the gorge via the footpath from Huez or down from Alpe d’Huez on the steep path that descends next to the second car park on the way to the Col de Sarenne. You’ll finish just below the same car park and the walk back into Alpe d’Huez takes about 30 minutes. We completed the route in around 90 minutes, but the speed at which you go depends on your fitness, experience and whether you want to stop to take photos to scare your friends and family…

Click on the links or on the menu above for more on Alpe d’Huez in the summer and climbing in the Oisans region.