Just a few miles from the French Alpine resort of Morzine lies magical Lake Montriond and some spectacular waterfalls.
The area is criss-crossed by walking routes and has magnificent views, making it an ideal spot to shake off a crashing headache brought on by mixing vodka, wine, beer and a mysterious local liquor in the bars of Morzine.
We drove out in the late morning under cloudy skies – it had rained heavily overnight – but the sun was breaking through as we parked the Ford and caught our first sight of the lake, nestled between mountains, steep cliffs and forests of pine. The reflections were irresistible and the water a deep, still green. There were plenty of walkers out on the footpaths, and a handful of anglers and kayakers occupied themselves on and beside the water, but it was chilly for August.
At the far end of the lake we broke away into the woods to the hamlet of Les Albertans, a tiny collection of old and new properties that stand by the river that feeds the lake. Bright yellow lichen grew in abundance, much of it on the buildings, testament to the dampness of the air and the shady, marshy conditions.
I wondered why anyone would want to live there, not just because of the boggy ground but also the threat posed by landslides. Giant boulders that have tumbled down the mountains are scattered about the valley floor, some as big as small houses, and there are doubtless many more perched precariously in the hills above, ready to slip and cause terrible damage.
We climbed up through the trees, dripping thanks to the overnight rains, the sound of the river always with us even if we couldn’t see it. We arrived eventually at the Ardent waterfall, thundering and majestic, boosted by the recent downpours. We wondered what it must be like in the spring, fed by the snow melt.
Hot and bothered by the climb, it came as a relief to walk back down to the lake. We grabbed a reviving coffee and dined on trout in the open air at one of the lake-side restaurants. Children played at the water’s edge in the sunshine.
After lunch we jumped in the car and drove to the lower station of the Telepherique de Nyon on the outskirts of Morzine. It’s closed in summer but we were there to visit another waterfall, the Cascade de Nyon. Reached by another climb up another hill, it delivered magnificent natural beauty and power in abundance.
We carried on into the woods and meadows, on narrow and slippery paths that were sometimes treacherous and difficult to negotiate. One slip and we’d have been tumbling down the hills with several broken bones to our name. Ultimately we came back down to the valley, joining the gentler Chemin de Reynard path to get us back to the car.
In the evening we ate at Le Grillon, after traipsing round looking for a recommended restaurant and not finding it. We had a meaty kebab thing and then walked to our usual bar for drinks, Le Coup de Coeur.
It was Sunday night and quiet…