With aching shins and numb toes we zigzagged down from the summit at Haut Fleury with hope in our hearts; hope that Jean de la Pipe would be open for late lunch, and that it would live up to the images of warmth and restdom that the locals had so vividly conjured up the night before! What a relief therefore when our skis kindly deposited us outside the front door! We decided to bystep the happy vinchaud drinkers on the sun-filled terrace and snuggle up by the ginormous wood-burning fire that dominates the cosy interior. We feasted on beautiful copious slabs of cote de boeuf cooked over the fire that crackled away next to our table, and moved our heads in sync as huge platters of local Savoie meats were delivered to neighbouring diners! Needless to say that two hours later, the next port of call was a hot bath in the chalet rather than another ascent to the icy summit!
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Bottom of Les Molliettes ski lift
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