Waking up in the mountains is always magical; drawing the curtains feels like looking at a green screen of supersized, digitally enhanced peaks. Living just over an hour from the French Alps means I’m fortunate enough to go regularly, but most of my recent trips have been part of an effort to hone my (shaky) skiing skills, hoping that I don’t take anyone out, Gwyneth-style.
Briancon, in the Serre Chevalier Valley, is the highest city in France. It looks remote, but a direct sleeper-train service from Paris means that visiting Brits can quite literally leave the office and wake up the next morning in the mountains. From my home in Lyon, the journey was a little less glamorous as I sat sardine-like in the middle seat of a carshare.
