The Alpine Edit

Your guide to life in the mountains—trail running, adventure, and expat living in Chamonix. From visa tips to epic trails and hidden alpine gems, make the Alps.

The Alpine Edit

Month: April 2025

Planes, Trains & Mont Blanc Express: Your Guide to Public Transport in Chamonix

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On April 23, 2025

In Life in Chamonix, Uncategorized

When we first moved to Chamonix, I wasn’t quite prepared for how easy it would be to live without a car. Coming from the UK, I was used to driving everywhere, and I assumed the same would apply here. But the truth is, between the local buses, the train, and a bit of trial and error, getting around the Chamonix valley without a car is completely doable. That said, we do have a car, a Dacia Duster, which is something of a local favourite , and I am genuinely thrilled with it. We don’t use it much in town, but it’s ideal for getting to Sallanches, where I go to the gym, swim, and do a proper food shop.

Whether you’re flying in for a trail race, planning a family ski trip, or thinking about relocating, this guide covers how to get to Chamonix and how to move around once you arrive, all using public transport.

Geneva Arrivals: Your Ticket to the Mountains

Geneva is the closest major airport to Chamonix, and getting from the terminal to the mountains is fairly straightforward. Several coach companies run regular transfers to the valley, and you can usually catch a bus every 30 minutes to an hour, depending on how wedded you are to a particular provider. FlixBus, EasyBus, AlpyBus and SwissTours all offer direct routes, with journey times ranging from just over an hour to around 1 hour 40. If you’re not too picky, you’ll usually find something that suits. Just make sure to book ahead during busy periods as the cheaper seats tend to go quickly.

If you can, go for a flexible ticket. My mother in law, who is the most organised traveller I know and, to her detriment, more organised than easyJet, had a flight delay recently. She didn’t meet her sensibly scheduled bus and ended up spending two hours at the airport, glaring at the departure board and muttering things I won’t repeat here. The moral of the story? A flexible booking can save you a lot of stress, especially if your flight’s cutting it fine.

Chugging Through Chamonix: The Train Lowdown

This is the valley’s main train line, running between Saint-Gervais-les-Bains and Martigny in Switzerland, with local stops in Chamonix, Argentière and Vallorcine. I’ve only used it between Pèlerins and Argentière, which covers most of the valley. It’s a solid option if you’re avoiding busy buses or want to hop between villages without driving.

The train can be a bit of a waiting game at times. It stops in both Vallorcine and Chamonix Centre for around 16 minutes, so if you’re planning to travel straight through either station, be prepared to sit tight for a while.

If you’ve got a buggy with you, be warned. Some trains are level with the platform and easy to board, while others have a couple of awkward steps. And unlike in the UK, don’t expect anyone to rush over and help. The staff are, well… French. Friendly enough, but not exactly leaping into action when they see a pram.

Still, once you’re on, it’s warm, usually on time, and free with a carte d’hôte, which you should get from your accommodation.

Victoria’s Top Tip:

At the moment, the section between Chamonix Centre and Saint-Gervais isn’t operating. There’s a bus replacement service instead. I haven’t tried the replacement myself yet, so I can’t vouch for how smooth it is. But if you’re travelling with kids or kit, it’s probably worth factoring in a bit of extra time.

It Might Come, It Might Not: Buses in Chamonix

If you’re staying in Chamonix without a car, the buses are a really helpful way to get around. The main route is Line 1, which connects Servoz to Le Tour and passes through all the major spots like Chamonix Centre, Les Praz, Argentière and Montroc.

I haven’t used the buses loads yet, but from what I’ve seen, they’re generally reliable. Just be aware that they’re not super frequent. Depending on the time of day or season, you might be looking at one every 30 minutes or so, and fewer outside of peak hours. It’s worth checking the timetable before heading out, especially if you’ve got kids or are aiming for something time-sensitive.

Now, my favourite (still unused) bus is Le Mulet. I just love it. The name, the shape, the whole vibe. It’s a tiny electric shuttle that loops around Chamonix town and it’s completely free. I can’t wait to take it purely for the novelty.

In winter, there are extra ski buses that link up the lifts and car parks. In summer, many of the main buses are bike-friendly, which is ideal if you’re heading out for a ride and don’t fancy cycling all the way home again.

The Fine Art of Getting a Ticket (Without Crying)

Now, about the carte d’hôte. This is where things get a bit less straightforward.

If you’re visiting Chamonix and staying in local accommodation, you should be given a carte d’hôte. In theory, it gives you free access to the valley’s trains and buses. In practice, it’s not quite that simple.

For the buses, you still need an actual ticket. It’s not enough to show your carte d’hôte to the driver. You’ll need a valid ticket or day pass to board, otherwise you’ll be asked to pay €2 or hop off.

As for how to get that ticket, avoid the app or the online system unless you fancy a good dose of frustration. The easiest way is to go to the machines or speak to someone at the desks near Plan B Hotel in Chamonix Sud. There, you can buy a discounted day pass using your carte d’hôte, with a one-day minimum.

If you’re here longer-term, the resident’s card is much more straightforward. It gives you proper unlimited access to the local transport network, and you only need to renew it once a year.

Ditching the Faff: Enter the E-Bike

We do have the Via Cham resident card, which gives us access to all the buses and local trains, and for the most part, it works well. But even with that, we decided to invest in an electric bike.

It just makes life easier. Popping into town for a coffee, doing the school run, or heading to the market doesn’t need a timetable. We don’t have to plan our day around bus schedules, and it’s quicker than waiting around, especially when it’s raining, snowing, or just one of those days where everything feels a bit much.

It also means Thatcher can run alongside us, which is great for keeping him active without needing a full-blown outing. And honestly, I think we use it more than we thought we would. It’s become one of those things that makes daily life in the valley feel a little more fluid.

Do You Really Need a Car in Chamonix?

Chamonix is one of those places where you really can get by without a car, but it does take a bit of local knowledge and the odd workaround. Between the buses, the Mont Blanc Express, and the help of a good e-bike, we’ve managed just fine. It’s not always seamless, but there’s something quite freeing about not relying on a car every day. Whether you’re here for a weekend or settling in long-term, a bit of planning and flexibility goes a long way. And when all else fails, there’s always Le Mulet.

How do you move to France if you’re not retired, not employed, and not married to a French person?

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On April 16, 2025

In Expat Life, Moving Abroad

When we started planning our move to France, we knew we wanted more than just a short visit. We weren’t relocating for work or study, and we didn’t fit into the traditional visa categories that often dominate the conversation. As a vocational athlete and with neither of us formally employed, we needed a visa that would give us the flexibility to live in France without the constraints of work sponsorship or academic enrolment.

Enter the VLS-TS, or Visa de Long Séjour valant Titre de Séjour. This long-stay visa allows you to live in France as a tourist for up to a year. It was the perfect fit. It gives people moving to France from abroad the ability to stay for more than 90 days without having to apply for a separate residency card after arrival. It’s not a work visa, but it offers the chance to experience life in France in a slower, more meaningful way.

For us, the VLS-TS offered the freedom to live intentionally, train with focus, and immerse ourselves in French culture, rather than just passing through. Here’s everything we learned about applying for the visa, what we wish we had known earlier, and how you can hopefully avoid the same pitfalls.

Important Note
Everything shared in this post is based on our personal experience with the VLS-TS application process. I am not a lawyer or immigration expert, and visa rules can change frequently. Please always double-check requirements with your local French consulate or official resources like france-visas.gouv.fr to ensure you have the most up-to-date information.

What is the VLS-TS?

The VLS-TS is France’s long-stay visa that also functions as a temporary residence permit. It allows you to stay in France for more than 90 days, up to a maximum of 12 months, without needing to apply for a separate titre de séjour once you’re in the country.

Unlike a standard tourist visa, which limits you to 90 days in the Schengen Zone within any 180-day period, the VLS-TS allows you to live in France for an extended period. However, it does not allow you to work or run a business in France. It is ideal for people who can support themselves financially and want to stay in France for training, travel, sabbatical, or lifestyle reasons.

There are a few categories of the VLS-TS, including those for students, researchers, and professionals. We applied under the visitor category, which is designed for people who are not planning to work or study formally but want to live in France on a long-term basis.

Who is this visa for?

To be eligible for the VLS-TS as a visitor, you must:

  • Be applying from outside the EU or EEA
  • Plan to stay in France for more than 90 days
  • Be able to support yourself financially without working
  • Have proof of accommodation for the entire duration of your stay
  • Have health insurance that covers your full time in France
  • Intend to live in France without engaging in professional work or formal studies

This visa worked perfectly for us. As a vocational athlete and a partner who was not employed, we could focus on our lifestyle and goals while being legally present in France. It’s a great option for international applicants who want to experience daily life in France without enrolling in a school or securing a job.

Our Journey

What documents did we need to show?

Here’s what we gathered for our application:

  • Valid passport
    It needed to be valid for at least six months beyond the end of our planned stay in France.
  • Completed online application
    We filled this out on the France-Visas website and printed both the application and the personalised document checklist.
  • Passport-sized photos
    These had to match French specifications exactly, so we made sure to use a proper photo service rather than DIY-ing it.
  • Proof of accommodation
    This one was wild — we had to show that we’d secured a place to live for the entire year before we even had permission to be in France.
    What we did: We used Airbnb. A lot of listings offer flexible cancellation, and that saved us when our first application was rejected. We were able to cancel and get our money back. Honestly, we recommend this route to anyone applying.
  • Proof of financial means
    We submitted bank statements to show we could support ourselves financially without working.
  • Health insurance
    This is where it all fell apart the first time. I accidentally submitted a one-month travel insurance policy, thinking that would be fine — and unbelievably, our lawyers didn’t catch the error.
    For how much we paid, we expected every detail to be checked. But no one flagged it. The visa was rejected with no explanation, and only in hindsight did we realise what had gone wrong.
    For our second application, we used Regency Healthcare for Expats, which met all the French requirements. It was expensive, but it worked.
  • Signed letter of intent
    We wrote a simple letter explaining why we wanted to live in France for a year, what we planned to do, and confirming we wouldn’t be working.

Step-by-Step Application Process

Pre application

We used Lexidy France to help with our application process, but in hindsight, I wouldn’t recommend it.

At the time, we were stressed, overwhelmed, and unable to get an appointment at our local TLScontact center in London, which handles applications for the French consulate. Lexidy offered to take over the process completely, and in the moment, we handed it over.

The cost? £4,000 for all three of us.

Now that we understand the process, I can say with confidence that you don’t need to spend that much. To help you avoid making the same mistake, here’s the step-by-step guide we wish we had.

Victoria’s top tips

If you’re struggling to get an appointment, check out TLScontact’s Apply Anywhere service. They regularly offer pop-up locations in London and other cities, and they actually review your documents in advance, which is a game changer.

Honestly, if we had used this service, we’re pretty sure they would have flagged our incorrect travel insurance — which our expensive legal team missed.
It costs £250 per person, and in our case, it probably would have done the job better than the £4,000 we spent.

Step 1: Create an account on France-Visas

We went to france-visas.gouv.fr, created an account, filled in our details, and downloaded the form and checklist.

Step 2: Complete your application

We took our time entering everything correctly and printed both the application and the generated checklist.

Step 3: Book your appointment with TLScontact

Appointments in London filled up fast. There are entire Facebook groups dedicated to securing a slot, and honestly, I’m still not sure how people manage without the Apply Anywhere service or giving themselves weekly RSI from refreshing the booking page.

Step 4: Attend your appointment and submit your documents

We brought everything in duplicate: our printed forms, photos, proof of funds, accommodation, insurance, and the letter of intent. TLS also took our fingerprints and biometric photo.

Victoria’s Top tip

Children aren’t just not required — they’re not allowed in the building. If you show up with your child, someone will need to wait outside with them. Yes, even in the rain.
This is the time to dial a grandparent or hire a babysitter.

Step 5: Our first application — rejected

We applied in November. A few weeks later, our passports came back with no visa and no explanation. We now believe it was because of the incorrect insurance. With travel plans to Australia for December, we had to wait to reapply.

Step 6: Second application — success

We got a new TLS appointment for 6 January, corrected the insurance, got a babysitter, resubmitted everything, and were finally approved on 21 January. Our move was set for 28 February, perfectly aligned with Margot’s nursery starting on 5 March.

Validating Your Visa in France

Once you arrive in France, you have three months to validate your visa. This step is critical — without it, your visa is not officially active.

We went to administration-etrangers-en-france.interieur.gouv.fr, filled in our visa numbers, date of entry, address in France, and paid the fee (around €200–€250 per person) with a credit card.

A confirmation email was sent right after, along with a downloadable attestation de validation. We needed this document for housing, setting up bank accounts, and proving legal residency.

It was fast and easy to do online. After all the stress of applying, this part felt like a win.

Caffeine, Curry, and Crêpes: Chamonix’s Must-Eats

By

On April 11, 2025

In Life in Chamonix

Caffeine, Crêpes & Curry: One Month of Eating in Chamonix

Having settled in Chamonix for just over a month, we’ve eagerly embarked on the delightful journey of exploring its vibrant culinary scene. From the perfect long black to picnic-bench pizza, here’s our roundup of the coffee, cake, and food spots that have truly earned their place in our daily rhythm.

Coffee (with a side of Cake)

1. Moody Coffee Roasters
It didn’t take long for Moody’s to stake its claim on my morning rhythm. Tucked a few steps from the Aiguille du Midi lift, it’s the kind of place that might feel intimidating if it weren’t so genuinely good. The staff are unflinchingly cool, the long black is basically personality-altering, and the cakes somehow always look like they’ve just been painted.

During UTMB week, the queue snakes out the door and halfway to Italy. Today-off-season, snow-melting it’s just out the door. Few.

The coffee is roasted locally in Les Bossons, which means your beans have travelled fewer kilometres than most people’s hiking boots. It’s not cheap, but they sweeten the deal.. literally.. with a tiny brownie bite on the side. Dangerous. It can’t be that eye-watering though, because I keep going back. Repeatedly. Happily.

The cinnamon buns come out warm, crowned with caramelised pecans and laced with sticky joy. I live for the middle bit. This morning I was later than usual and had to go rogue with the banana bread-more cake than breakfast, but blogging is hard work and honestly, I’m not sorry.

Inside, it’s intimate and cosy. There’s not much laptop real estate, so it’s not your place for long work calls or deep focus-but for a five-minute blog session and a bit of world-watching? Perfect. And who doesnt need an excuse to switch off the tech these days!?

2. Red Bread
I stumbled across the Red Bread truck on my first Saturday in Chamonix, originally on a mission for the yummiest Beaufort to fill my weekend baguette. It’s a small, unassuming, cash only truck.. easy to overlook if not for the scent of fresh baking wafting from within. The coffee here is consistently delicious, but it’s the cinnamon buns, drenched generously with hot icing, that are truly outrageous. They’re the kind of treat that turns casual weekend strolls into deliberate pilgrimages.

3. Couloir
A new establishment born from a partnership of mastery between the Moody’s team and @chefnickrenn. What I love about Couloir is the thoughtful savoury twist complementing the sweet offerings I’ve come to enjoy at Moody’s. Think fluffy, perfectly filled focaccia ‘Sandos,’ warming soups, and baguettes ready to grab and go. It’s faultless, effortless, and simply perfect.

Couloir offers a bit more space, ideal for lingering. It is perfect for nursing your coffee and sando for an hour, gazing out at the mountain views.

The Apline Action: throughout the rest of April, their loyalty scheme lets you collect stamps at both Moody’s and Couloir to redeem your seventh coffee free at Couloir. I’ve been redeeming too many already. Wallet, I’m sorry-but it’s all in the name of research.

Dinner

1. Annapurna
Annapurna was our first dining experience upon arriving in Chamonix, and it instantly set the bar high. This fantastically popular Indian restaurant boasts two bustling locations within just 150m of each other, and it’s immediately clear why. The atmosphere is electric, the service warm and friendly, and the curry fiery and unforgettable. My spicy jalfrezi with large, juicy gambas was perfectly rich and satisfying. Their fluffy, fresh naan bread, particularly the peshwari, expertly balanced sweetness and savoury. Margot devoured the dhal, popadoms, and onion bhaji; I had hoped to share the dhal, but who am I to argue with toddler approval?

2. Mumma’s
This pan-Asian fusion spot immediately won us over. Imagine dishes like salmon sashimi with ponzu, Jerusalem artichoke, and sticky teriyaki edamame beans. At first glance, the menu might appear intimidating even for Asian food enthusiasts, but the flavours are perfectly balanced and approachable. There’s a thoughtful mix of vegetarian and meaty options, catering ideally to our family’s varied tastes. The decor is stylishly dark without being too dim, creating a perfect dinner vibe. Highly recommended.

3. La Roulotte
Like Red Bread, La Roulotte is another culinary gem on wheels, offering a quirky combination of pizzas and empanadas. Despite seeming unusual at first, the pairing works perfectly. The pizzas are generously topped, achieving that elusive balance between hearty and crisp without turning soggy. Their empanadas are delightful; I recommend adding hot sauce. I tried the Savoyard, chicken, and onion options and negotiated a fair trade for a slice of pizza from Sion, purely in the name of market research. Seating is simple picnic benches and no high chairs, so it might be tricky with little ones.

Lunch

1. Le Shack
Le Shack is Mumma’s vibrant little sibling, serving delightful bites like kimchi toasties, rotis, and standout gyozas. It’s perfect for leisurely lunches in the sun, especially paired with sticky rice. The service isn’t exactly lightning fast, but let’s face it, where else do you have to be? With comfy seating, mountain views, and sunshine, the leisurely pace is more bonus than bug. It’s the kind of place that makes you question whether returning to real life is absolutely necessary.

2. Ella
Ella might be an unassuming Mediterranean wrap shop, but don’t let its simplicity fool you. Their chicken is marinated in what I assume is bottled happiness, and choosing a sauce feels like picking your favourite child; impossible and slightly guilt-inducing. We bravely tackled the falafel too, freshly fried balls of crunchy goodness that almost justified ordering a second portion. Seating is minimalistic, a few cozy spots indoors and a well-placed bench outside perfect for watching the world stroll by. Solid 10/10, would absolutely wrap again.

3. La Ferme
Yes, La Ferme might lean towards the touristy side, but when you’re craving a no-nonsense omelette or a crispy crêpe, touristy suddenly becomes charmingly efficient. Service here is quicker than my decision to order dessert, and the omelettes arrive perfectly crisp and golden with a tiny salad that’s purely decorative; but hey, vegetables are vegetables, right? Ideal for a swift refuel before you tackle your next Chamonix adventure.

Final Thoughts

One month in, and we’ve happily eaten our way through Chamonix. From our first cinnamon bun to our last spoonful of dhal, this town’s food scene has been every bit as scenic, spicy, and satisfying as the views. We’ve found comfort, surprise, and a few new obsessions… all in the name of ‘research’. More to come, of course. We’re not done eating yet.

How We Spent 3 Months in a Van with a Baby, a Dog, and a Dream

By

On April 2, 2025

In Running, Van Life

This wasn’t a lifelong plan. It was more of a “Why not?”

Margot wasn’t in full time nursery, I was craving mountains to run in, Sion wanted to chase climbs, and we knew life was about to start “lifeing” soon. It felt like the perfect window to do something bold. A pause before the next chapter kicked off.

I’d had a van before I met Sion, so I already knew the freedom and fun that came with it. This time, we upgraded: a VW Crafter that we lovingly named The Pink Panther (she’s got pink seats and a whole lot of character). We planned a route built around iconic climbs for Sion to cycle and races I had lined up and just like that, we were off.

From Silverstone to Stelvio

Our summer kicked off with a slight detour. Sion headed to the Maratona in Italy while I took Margot to Silverstone for the F1 with our housemates Matt and Sally. It was the four of us in a muddy field, surrounded by petrolheads and the constant thrum of engines and overpriced nachos. Despite being a McLaren fan, I couldn’t help but smile seeing King Lewis on the top of the podium. Yes, from the Alps to asphalt The Pink Panther handled it all.

After Silverstone, we collected Evie, our nanny and absolute hero, and Thatcher. We packed up the Pink Panther with the help of our housemates Matt and Sally and hit the road toward Italy. Three girls and their king (Thatcher the dog), we made a one pot rice dish in the van while on the Eurotunnel and rolled into a sleepy French village for the night. The next day ended with an impromptu dip in Lake Zurich. Pure joy after a long day on the road. We realised, a little too late, that we should’ve booked somewhere to stay, so we made a detour to our family ski home in Flims for the night before pushing on. One more lake stop in St. Moritz, then finally to Bormio where Sion and Margot were reunited.

Early the next day, bikes were built and a group of us headed for the base of the Stelvio to take on the infamous climb. I rode it that day and placed 13th all time. I still can’t quite believe it. Evie looked after Margot and it was so wonderful to have some time with Sion. We did miss our rascal, so the rest in the afternoon with her was especially sweet.

The following day, while we were exploring the area, I noticed a cycling event being set up for the weekend. Intrigued, I looked into it and to my utter joy, discovered there was also a running race. 21km from the bottom to the top. A mountain half marathon. It felt like the perfect challenge as I transitioned from marathon runner to mountain runner. I bagged an entry, blagged my way into the elite start, and got myself ready.

On day three, I returned to the same climb, this time on foot. I ran the mountain half marathon, placing second and taking home my first ever prize money. What I loved most was knowing that Sion, Margot and Thatcher were waiting at the top for me. It was all the fuel I needed to keep pushing.

Racing, Crewing & Milestones: Engadin & Swiss Alps

From Bormio we made our way to the Engadin Valley in Switzerland. It absolutely took our breath away. We enjoyed a few nights at some stunning campsites, and a very wet and damp day before the race turned out to be a gift. It was the perfect excuse to put our feet up and watch the Tour de France in a cosy local café.

This race was a big one for me. It was my first ever ultra, my first trail run, and Sion’s first time crewing me. He was incredible. He kept Margot entertained, Thatcher walked, and me fuelled and focused. And somehow, I won. I smashed the course record by 32 minutes, and it was the start of something that felt really exciting.

We spent a week at home, leaving Thatcher with our good friends in Geneva. Margot’s birthday loomed, and while we were in the UK we caught up with friends and family, squeezed in some training, and refilled our hunger for adventure. Her birthday was amazing, we loved hosting everyone and celebrating with those we don’t get to see enough.

From Mountains to Lakes: Swiss Alps 100km & Beyond

Then we flew back out for the next and biggest race of the trip: the Swiss Alps 100km. A recent mudslide meant a last minute course change, which included a steep, technical descent near the end that made me properly nervous. I was fortunate enough to look forward to Sion joining me for the final 8km of the 103km day, which gave me a huge mental lift. I learnt a lot in that race about pacing, pressure, and pushing through when the plan changes. But I was thrilled to finish, and we celebrated with a post race pizza while I admired my blisters (not sure anyone else enjoyed that part quite as much as I did). This time, Sion’s parents came out to help us crew, and after the race we headed to Vitznau on Lake Lucerne for the most beautiful few days exhausted, happy, and completely content.

From there we rolled on to Vitnau on Lake Lucerne, then Flims, where we were joined by Margot’s god sister Emily, her mum Jo and her boyfriend Owen. It was pure summer magic swimming, cooking, hiking (sort of), laughing late into the night.

In Annecy, Margot took her first ever steps (with a helping hand) on the edge of the lake. She was just at that magical turning point: no longer a potato, but not quite fully mobile either. She wanted to be moving constantly, which made long hikes hard. But we always prioritised her needs if she’d had enough, we adapted.

We didn’t plan to land in Chamonix. But with UTMB week approaching, we found ourselves nearby and decided to join the madness. It was full on, busy, stressful, and brilliant. And while it felt chaotic at the time, something clicked. I knew I wanted to be part of a place that could stretch and shift to hold that much energy and passion.

The Not So Insta Bits

Van life is beautiful but it’s also bananas. Van rattle is a very real logistical issue pack badly, and you’ll hear about it every kilometre. We enjoyed most locations for a minimum of three nights, and our tent setup meant we could leave things in place and still drive the van without having to repack every time a total game changer. My rice cooker became my best friend. Shoutout to the friend who introduced me to it hero status.

Limited showers. Constant tidying. Laundry roulette. Small space living with a toddler and a cockapoo isn’t always a dream. But Thatcher was a star, and thankfully we didn’t get much rain, so muddy paws weren’t too much of a problem.

Cooking in the van became something I loved. I found creative joy in making meals from limited ingredients (and that rice cooker). We lived out of boxes, washed dishes with cold water, and sometimes ate on laps perched next to a glacier. It was chaotic, but it was ours.

It surprised me how little I missed home. It was the longest I’d ever been away, and yet I didn’t crave the comfort I thought I would. I realised I didn’t need all the stuff I’d once thought was essential. (Though I did miss my Chanel jackets.)

Living in such close quarters tested our routines, but Sion and I came through it stronger than ever. With my ADHD, small space living could have been a disaster, but he navigated my trail of destruction with patience and grace. He even taught me to tidy. Shock.

What That Summer Gave Us

We set off with a loose plan and a lot of snacks. What we found was so much more

We made memories that stitched us tighter as a family. We gave Margot space to roam and rest. We raced. We rested. We watched the world from camp chairs and mountainsides and sleepy Alpine villages.

And by the end of it, we knew something had shifted. Chamonix wasn’t part of the original plan, but the idea was planted there somewhere between the UTMB madness, the lake swims, and our van parked beneath Mont Blanc.

That summer didn’t just show us what we wanted next, it showed us that we could build it, together.

Rooted in Bristol, Replanted in Chamonix

By

On April 2, 2025

In Expat Life, Moving Abroad, Van Life

If you’d told me a few years ago I’d be raising my daughter in the French Alps, I’d have laughed (politely), finished my coffee in Bristol, and changed the subject.

I was a homebody through and through. Rooted, routine driven, and deeply content in my comfort zone. Apart from two months living in Bath (which, let’s be honest, barely counts), I’d never lived anywhere else. Bristol was home. Full stop.

And then life, as it does, started rewriting the script.

The Sliding Door Moment That Started It All

In 2019, I met Sion. I’d warned him a relationship between Bristol and London was a bit complicated. But he said yes to the date anyway. He was healing from a bike crash at the time, so maybe he was slightly concussed, or maybe it was fate. Either way, that “yes” was one of those small sliding door moments that changed everything.

Sion had lived a very different life to mine, his twenties were spent chasing snow seasons, ski lifts, and long days in the mountains. I was living my best Bristol life: trail runs on the Downs, coffee with friends, weekends that felt like home. But somehow, we met in the middle and we built something beautiful.

When Everything Changed

In 2021, I lost my dad. My anchor. My source of wisdom, love, and quiet encouragement.

Grief doesn’t just break your heart. It shifts your entire world. It stripped everything back to the bones and forced me to really look at what mattered.

In 2022, Sion and I got married.
In 2023, we welcomed our daughter Margot, our greatest adventure yet.

For both of us, becoming parents was a dream come true. While many people see having a child as the end of freedom, we saw it as the beginning of something deeper. She didn’t limit us, she expanded us. And we knew we wanted her to grow up with space, with mountains, with curiosity stitched into the everyday.

Van Life, Big Climbs, and One Very Pink Panther

In 2024, with Margot (and our cockapoo, Thatcher) in tow, we packed up our van; The Pink Panther and set off for a European summer.

We weren’t wandering aimlessly. We had a plan.

We chased iconic climbs for Sion to cycle, and I laced up for some of Europe’s most iconic ultra races. From the Dolomites to the Pyrenees, every stop added fuel to something we hadn’t quite said out loud yet:
What if we didn’t go back?

We weren’t running away from anything. We had a life in Bristol that we loved. But we were running toward something too: more movement, more nature, more room to grow as a family.

Finding Chamonix (And Something We Didn’t Know We Needed)

We planned a week there in August. Just a taste.

But that taste? It lingered.

There was something about Chamonix that felt alive, a town built around movement, resilience, and a shared love of the outdoors.

For Sion, it was heaven. Towering climbs, snowy summits, people who chat gear ratios over croissants. For me, it was magnetic. The energy of the trails, the thrum of race season, the kind of terrain that makes you feel small and strong at the same time.

But it wasn’t just about sport. There was something deeper. The rhythm of the town felt simple but expansive, where toddlers could grow up bilingual, barefoot in the garden, surrounded by nature and people who live outside.

It didn’t feel like a place we were visiting.
It felt like a place we could belong.

Visa Rejection & One Very Small Flat in Bristol

We returned to the UK, high on mountains and possibility, and made the bold move to let out our family home, assuming we’d be cheering in the New Year under alpine skies.

But reality had other plans. Our first visa application was rejected.

What followed was a blur of paperwork, panicked logistics, and life in a tiny one-room studio flat in Bristol, Margot in a travel cot beside the bed, Thatcher underfoot, and most of our life packed into storage.

It wasn’t glamorous. It wasn’t easy. And honestly, we were exhausted.

But we tried again, this time with more paperwork, more patience, and a little apartment lined up in Chamonix to prove we were serious.

And finally… we were in!!

Life Now: Mountains, Mealtimes & Messy Magic

We live in a small chalet at the foot of the mountains. Margot goes to a French nursery and waves “bonjour” to strangers on the street. I run the trails I once only saw on race maps. Sion cycles the same climbs he once watched on TV.

We make dinner (double, always! Vegetarian for him, meat for me), we play cards after bedtime, and we walk everywhere. Our life is still full of nappies and logistics and training blocks, but the pace feels different. Lighter. More intentional.

It’s not perfect, but it’s exactly where we’re meant to be.

And This Is What You’ll Find Here

This blog is for anyone who’s ever stood on the edge of change and wondered, Could we actually do it?

Here, you’ll find:

  • The real story of moving to France post-Brexit
  • What it’s like to raise a family in the Alps
  • The beauty and brutality of training for ultras with a toddler
  • The honest truth about expat life, French culture, therapy abroad, and why trail snacks are basically a love language

Whether you’re dreaming of moving abroad, figuring out how to chase your goals alongside raising a family, or just here for the stories.. I’m so glad you’ve found this space.

Come with me.

A Week in My Life as a Mum, Runner & Expat

By

On April 2, 2025

In Family life, Life in Chamonix, Running

Life in Chamonix is beautiful, but it’s not slow. With a toddler, a training schedule, and a mountain town to navigate in French, no two days look exactly the same. But here’s what a typical week tends to look like for me, in this season of motherhood, movement, and starting over.

Mornings: Coffee, Chaos & Nursery Runs

Most days start early. Margot needs to be at nursery by 8am, and it’s about a mile from our chalet, so there’s not much room for faff. But we always carve out time for family breakfast. It’s one of my non-negotiables. Sion and I share a pot of coffee while Margot tucks into her beloved Weetabix (brought over from the UK and now rationed like gold dust).

Once she’s dressed and ready, we head out for the nursery drop. We either walk or hop on the local train for one stop, depending on how much time (and energy) we have that day.

Mid-Mornings: Tidy, Train, Breathe

After drop-off, I head back to reset the house. Quick tidy-up, beds made, crumbs swept. Then it’s time for my first training session of the day, usually 1 to 2 hours depending on where I am in my cycle or race plan. It might be strength work, treadmill intervals, or heading out onto the trails (yes, even in the snow).

Afterwards: shower, eat, breathe. I usually make something simple but delicious for lunch; fuel is everything when you’re juggling mileage and parenting. And on days I need a little joy? Wandering to a local bakery for a slice of quiche Lorraine has become a guilty pleasure. I never knew I liked it, but wow… delicious.

Afternoons: Recovery & Real Life

Some days I’ll have a second session. Others… I won’t sugarcoat it, it’s a battle. Whether I’m dragging tired legs or a tired brain, it’s not always graceful. But it’s real.

Other afternoons are spent in therapy, with my dietician, coaching my lovely runners, or occasionally just plugged into the Normatec boots trying to feel like a human again.

Sometimes, I’ll prep something fun for Margot like a den in the living room, blankets draped across chairs, ready for her to discover when she gets home. (See photo evidence!)

Evenings: Supper, Stories & Monopoly Deal

Nursery pick-up is 6pm sharp, so I try to have supper prepped before I leave. It makes the evenings flow so much more easily, and gives us more time to be together.

Dinner is always a bit of a juggling act. Sion is vegetarian and I’m… not. So I often make something adaptable: veggie base with added protein for me, or side dishes we can mix and match. Margot eats what we eat (usually with more cheese).

After dinner, it’s bath, bedtime, and Margot’s evening prayers. Then it’s time for grown-up games, our current favourites are Monopoly Deal, gin rummy, and backgammon. Low-stakes competition is our love language.

Weekends: Real Life, Rebalanced

Saturdays are often Mum & Margot time, Sion loves a long cycle and we all love him doing this. Sundays are our family day, though they’re still wrapped around training blocks. Being an athlete is full-time, seven days a week… but weekends give us longer windows to be together.

Honestly, they’re also the hardest sometimes. Margot’s not at nursery, I’ve still got sessions to do, and there’s no “clocking off.” But they’re memory-making days, and I wouldn’t trade them.

So That’s a Week (Sort Of)

Of course, no week is really typical. There are tantrums, cancelled plans, weather curveballs, surprise admin, and nights where the only run I manage is the one to the freezer for ice cream. But at the heart of it all is this: movement, intention, and a deep love for this little mountain life we’re building.

More soon…. from race prep to recovery days, and the truth about training through tiredness.

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