“Almost there, I said to myself as I watched the landscape fall below. At least, the landscape gave the impression of falling. Truly, it never fell, but my perspective from the passenger side of the car created this sensation because the car, travelling one foot from the outermost edge of the road, sometimes less during the approach of oncoming traffic, prohibited any sustained vision of the berm. Oh, and there was no guardrail either. For all of the major construction of which the French were very proud, they had not yet figured out how to widen the roads to the major skiing resorts. We drove rapidly up the mountain, the children cheerfully pointing out Mont Blanc, France’s largest mountain, every time it came into view, while I glumly responded and silently cursed myself for not having written my Last Will and Testament.
Despite the nerve-wracking journey…”