Kitabı oku: «A Christmas gift. A New Year's gift that predetermines your life»

© Harry Yasno, 2023

ISBN 978-5-0059-9214-7

Created with Ridero smart publishing system

You can start your story like this…

Snow blanketed the streets, homes, and parks with its fluffy white mantle, while frost etched intricate patterns on windows. Icicles hanging from roofs sparkled like diamonds in the sun, as the crunch of snow underfoot and the tingling chill of the air heightened the sensory experience. People bustled about with joyful energy, exchanging greetings and gifts in celebration of the Happy New year.

My New Year story starts like this…

What to gift myself on New Year’s? And, since this was not just any New Year, but a special one, the New Millennium, the gift had to be special too. So I decided to gift myself with wonderful and unforgettable memories – a ski descent down Mont Blanc, the tallest mountain in Western Europe at 4,808 meters. Why not, if Yes! Mont Blanc straddles the borders of Italy, France, and Switzerland. If I have made a decision, I will surely follow through, which is why at the end of December, I took my wife, daughter, and skis and made my way to the French village of Chamonix, located at the base of Mont Blanc.

It is a beautiful place, I tell you – charming, cultural, and refined – an Alpine village with quaint houses, shops, and streets. We settled into a comfortable chalet with a magical view of Mont Blanc.

Chamonix

The introduction to Chamonix was a highly emotional affair, filled with enthusiastic exclamations!

«What a delight!»

«Enchanting!»

«Beguiling!»

In the café and bistro, we sipped divine French wine, purchased souvenirs and guides in the souvenir shops, and ate Tar-Tar with Fondue in the oldest village restaurant. The village was so beautiful that I wanted to take it with me… all of it, as a New Year’s present. Why not? …and we did it by buying postcards and magnets. Incidentally, in one of the shops, I purchased a brochure on how to reach the summit of Mont Blanc and where to descend from it – a useful item.

The Brochure

Having familiarized myself with the Brochure, I learned:

– One can ascend to the summit of Mont Blanc by lift.

– The cost is 12 euros, including insurance.

– The lift operates until 4:00 PM.

– At the top, there is a restaurant.

– The descent route was indicated by a dotted line.

Excellent!

Since it is customary to give gifts on New Year’s Day, I planned my descent from Mont Blanc for December 31st, 1999. As they say, «Planned, done!»

An Unexpected Encounter

We continued our acquaintance with the beautiful Chamonix. As we further explored the charming alpine hamlet of Chamonix, we were struck by its idyllic beauty. The cozy and efficient lifts, with their smooth descents of varying degrees of challenge, provided ample opportunities for both excitement and tranquility, while the breathtaking vistas nourished our souls with their majesty. Amidst all this, we indulged in the pleasures of the local taverns, savoring the warmth of companionship and the delights of wine and whiskey, which filled our bodies with a sense of contentment and joy. Truly, Chamonix was a haven of earthly pleasures, a place where nature and human pleasures intertwined in a symphony of delight.

In the evenings, the taverns would come alive with the sound of music and revelry, as the people of Chamonix let loose their cares and embraced the joys of the night. The air would be thick with the scent of smoke and the sound of laughter, as the patrons drank and sang and danced with wild abandon.

«Harry, hi!» – suddenly someone called out to me.

«Hi,» I replied, looking at the barely familiar face.

«How glad I am to see you! Meet my wife, Katya,» he continued.

«Paul, Nike, Vasya… Igor, yes, it’s Igor,» I remembered.

«And where are you staying? We’re in a hostel… 12 people in a room, it’s tight, of course, but it’s okay,» Igor continued.

«Where do I know him from?» – I thought…

In short, thanks to Igor’s persistence and my weak character, Igor and Katya settled in our chalet.

December 31, 1999

At last, the final day of the year, the century, and the millennium had arrived. Early in the morning, I dressed, took my skis and headed for the Monblan lift. Unfortunately, the tickets were only for 4pm. I bought one.

The whole day, I imagined standing on the mountain’s peak, with France, Italy, Switzerland, and other countries lying beneath me, as I gazed down from the sky and mountain.

The lift cabin could hold 72 people, but with my skis and ski boots, I was the only one. 71 people looked at me like I was a stranger. They envied me.

I must admit, I often felt such gazes upon me. The journey to the top took about 20 minutes, and I enjoyed the view from the large window in anticipation of receiving the millennium’s gift.

As one gazes upon the vast expanse of the Chamonix-Mont-Blanc valley, stretching for endless kilometers amidst towering mountains, there is much to behold. It was within these very confines that the inaugural winter Olympics unfolded a century ago, a remarkable feat that has since captured the imagination of the world.

Moreover, this rugged terrain has borne witness to human habitation for over nine centuries, the first settlement having been established in these parts more than 900 years past. Such is the grandeur of this valley that it appears to have withstood the test of time, continuing to evoke awe and wonder in all those who set their sights upon it.

Ice cave

Emerging from the lift cabin, we found ourselves in a fantastical ice cave. It stretched for several dozen meters and ended in a bright white light. The walls of the ice cave sparkled with a thousand tiny diamonds, each reflecting the light from the ice crystals. Icicles hung from the ceiling, glinting like shards of glass in the soft glow of the cave. It was like stepping into a fairy tale, a magical realm that we had never seen before.

Somewhere there might have been a crystal coffin with Sleeping Beauty on chains, to be kissed by every man who passed by. I could even vividly imagine men of different ages standing in line for the coffin, which was swaying slightly, tinkling with its chains. As they approached, they kissed the cold woman and stepped aside, while their girlfriends and wives watched with meaningful expressions on their faces. But there was no coffin, and there was no air that ordinary people breathe. Yes! There was almost no air.

As fate would have it, there was neither a casket nor a Sleeping Beauty to be found, nor was there any breathable air for common folk atop the towering Mont Blanc. Indeed, it was a startling revelation that the air up here was scarce, leaving us with no choice but to exert our lungs to the fullest, taking deeper and more frequent breaths to survive.

Alas, the fairy tale had taken a turn for the worse, and I, gasping for air, emerged from the frozen cavern into the harsh light of day. Such is the price one pays for venturing into the heights of the Chamonix-Mont-Blanc valley, where danger and beauty intertwine to create a world beyond compare.

«Damnation!»

Before me lay an enormous white ocean – the Blanc-Blanche valley.

The Valley of Blanche – The Valley of the White Mountain.

It was something completely unimaginable and endless. To the right rose the immense White Mountain, behind it somewhere Switzerland, behind me was France, and ahead of me the immense and huge Ocean of snow, in the distance mountains could be seen, and beyond them must be Italy.

«Bellissimo!» – or, how do they say it in French?

Ecstasy filled my mind. Never before had I seen such powerful beauty! The ocean of snow seemed to slowly slide down the mountain and flow to the left. The depth of this whitish sea was a couple of kilometers, and it was not surprising, as here for thousands of years snow has been falling, which over time turns into ice.