After the initial cultures shock (village to city), it was nice to be among tons of people again. Montpellier was very relaxing and full of good French food, cheap wine, and delicious yogurt. In a café/bookstore, I found Adam Gopnik’s Paris to the Moon, which I read over a cup of tea. His writing was marvelous, as usual.
On the journey from Chamonix to Montpellier, someone rummaged through my bag and stole the one thing that was very dear to me and (I thought) no one else in the world—my running shoes. So, I visited stores in Montpellier like Courier (“To Run”) and Footlocker. They do not sell ANY sports equipment.
UPDATE: The list of missing things continues to grow – a bit of zyrtec, American cell phone, unlaundered Arizona State basketball t-shirt. I don’t know the full extent of the damage, partially because I never took a census of my stuff and partially because I’m very disorganized.
I still love the Alps. When I’m there, I (1) blend in with the other people wearing polar fleece (in Chamonix), (2) thank God I’m not lactose intolerant (in Courmayeur), and (3) have a new appreciation for Frodo’s climb in Lord of the Rings. The Valdaosta also has a wonderful cookie called Tegole (“tiles”). These hazelnut cookies are round, thin, and the diameter of my mouth, the result of which are little razor cuts on the corners of my mouth from eating too many in quick succession.
The Mont Blanc ultra marathon was a few days before I left, so incredibl(ly crazy) athletes were beginning to descend on the area. I wanted to bow and touch the hem of their gore-tex jackets. I half expected to see Dan O’Flaherty among them, but then realized he’s probably quite content running ultra marathons in New Jersey.
