What is it that keeps people from all over the world coming to a ski resort situated at an altitude of 1000 metres at a time when the planet is warming up?
Perhaps because Megève is not a ski resort but a village. A unique place because of the diversity of the people who live there and the originality of their relationships. A large French family, a young financial wolf, an artist, a nature lover but also a farmer, or just a Belgian bookseller looking for something exotic. In Megève for an enchanted interlude, they all share a drink, leaning against the counter of the famous Kiki, enjoying the simple pleasure of living together.
Anyone who has taken a ride in a horse-drawn carriage through the streets of this village will be quick to point out the kitschiness of the decorations and the glitz of the luxury boutiques, to avoid admitting that in a horse-drawn carriage at Christmas under the snowflakes, at the bend in an alleyway, they rediscovered a child's eye.
Those who want triumphant modernity and guaranteed snow have been directed elsewhere by the tour operators. So there are still those who, sensitive to the charms of wandering, seek to understand.
How do you explain to those who talk about investment and returns that our mountains are not just another industry, that a morning coffee at Le Cœur de Megève or a beer with friends at Le Saint-Paul is priceless. That in a world that's out of control, hyper-connected and overheated, Megève is the sleeping beauty that whispers a soothing lullaby in the ears of children young and old.