Chamonix

After a course in Geneva last week I rented a car and bowled over the border to France to visit my brother Will in Chamonix. While there, we took a quick flight in a helicopter over a glacier that I believe is called the Sea of Ice. To get there we went past a pale imitation of NSW's Three Sisters. This kitsch rock formation is called something original like The Needles. I think. According to our pilot through the fuzzy intercom on board the chopper. Little bit too Lord of the Rings for my tastes, but still worth a look.

Around the corner we got to the start of the glacier which then trundled downhill towards Chamonix, breaking up spectacularly as it nears the bottom of the valley it's carved through the mountains.
Fortunately for the picturesque little French Alpine village (which appears to be inhabited exclusively by Brits and Scandinavians), global warming has stepped in to ensure the Ralph Lauren and Gucci skiwear boutiques don't end up as terminal morraine. The glaciers are hightailing it back up the hill so fast you can almost hear them.