Shortly after the lunch bell, the first flakes began to drift down. While teachers checked their phones beneath the table and children pressed their faces against the classroom windows, a teenager whispered in the back row, “They said 20 to 50 cm. Every day.”
Parents performed that tiny, tense dance between anticipation and practicality in the parking lot: snow vacations, sure, but who’s driving, who’s wearing chains, and who’s staying home with hot chocolate?
Christmas garlands didn’t light up as quickly as traffic alerts. “Heavy snowfall expected all week in the department,” buzzed the push notifications. The kind of alert that you typically skim and then forget. Nobody is shrugging this time.
Because the forecast is unyielding this time. The snow also wants to be the main attraction.
“20 to 50 cm everywhere” is a forecast that fluctuates throughout the week.
It simply appears as a large white stain across the department on the maps. It signifies a world that abruptly crunches beneath your feet on the ground.
On TV, radio, and apps, meteorologists are repeating the same phrase: **”Expect 20 to 50 cm of fresh snow, every day, across most of the area.”
When you begin to visualise what that number actually means, it hits you in a different way. roads that disappear. Pavements engulfed. automobiles that vanish overnight as if they never happened.
Behind the lovely postcard lies a question that begins to bother everyone, from hoteliers to parents: how do you spend an entire holiday week in the midst of nonstop snowfall?
The first weekend already appears to be a dress rehearsal on the departmental road that leads up to the family ski resort.
As if yesterday’s labour didn’t matter, snowploughs are performing a slow ballet under yellow flashes at 7 a.m., pushing aside a thick layer that returned during the night. A delivery truck from the valley is stuck at a bend, and the driver is talking on the phone while pulling low and repeating, “Yeah, they said 30 cm tonight again.” I won’t promise, but I’ll try.
A father uses a shovel borrowed from the neighbour to clear the entrance in front of a rental chalet. The tidy path from yesterday has disappeared, to be replaced by a knee-deep white wall. His children are ready to go, tugging at their ski suits inside. Google Maps displays vivid red lines on the screen outside. The holidays have officially begun.
There is a very distinct weather pattern behind these 20 to 50 cm. A series of moist, low-pressure systems that were sliding in from the Atlantic collided with cold air that was obstinately parked over the department.
The temperature remains low. The snow line settles rather than rises. For this reason, forecasters insist on “everywhere”—not just on the peaks, but also in the valleys, on the squares of small towns, in front of supermarkets, and at the gates of schools for those who are not on break.
The new layer builds upon the previous one day after day. Trees bend, roof weight increases, and some electrical lines complain. We don’t only record one spectacular snowy day for Instagram. There is a whole rhythm of life that must change. And quickly.
Planning a vacation week while there is constant snowfall
The first instinct is straightforward: consider equipment before the roads become congested and the service stations run out of fuel.
Winter tires are no longer negotiable. Snow chains are moved from the corner of the garage to the car’s boot. The type of windscreen washer fluid that doesn’t freeze at -20°C is substituted. Almost instinctively, a headlamp and gloves slide into the door pocket.
One tiny habit makes all the difference for families travelling to the department’s small resorts or chalets for rent. Get there early. Not at night, but in the middle of the afternoon. The final dark kilometres in heavy snow are the worst: ditches are hidden by snowdrifts, lines are no longer visible, and exhaustion adds its own fog.
The same thing is said by those who have travelled that route for years: the more you prepare for the unexpected, the more smoothly the journey will go.
Everyone has experienced the realisation that the parking spot is no longer available when they exit their vehicle in front of the rental. Just a standard blanket, sometimes mid-thigh, sometimes mid-calf.
Many people are caught there. Zero snow brush, one small shovel for the children and city trainers that were completely soaked in three minutes. Instead of softness, the week begins in chaos.
Let’s face it, no one actually keeps an eye on backup salt supplies, snow blower fuel, or roof loads every day. However, with 20 to 50 cm falling every day for a week, minor mistakes add up quickly and dangerously. Grandparents turn frozen stairs into a slide. Guests are sent straight into a snowbank by a poorly cleared path.
small details when the forecast appears to be typical. When the sky won’t stop, multipliers come in handy.
Local voices are more important than apps during this type of week.
Marc, a 52-year-old road agent in the department, smiles and says, “Listen to the village.” “Your true warning is if the bus driver suggests he might not be going up tomorrow or if the baker says he’s closing earlier.”
- When the snow doesn’t stop, the following routines quickly become survival tools:
- Instead of having one big session at the end of the day, clear small, clear often.
- If a child falls into a snowbank, have one set of dry clothes in the car.
- Before every night, make sure your headlamps and power banks are charged in case the lines give out.
- Decide on a straightforward family plan, such as who will watch the road reports and who will check for weather alerts.
- Talk to your neighbours: share news, share shovels, and keep an eye out for those who are at risk.
Those who adjust their speed to the snow tend to avoid most of the stress while maintaining the enjoyment. *On day three, those who act as though nothing has changed frequently pay the price.
Everything slows down and opens up when the department turns white.
The odd silence that descends upon the department during these endless snowy weeks is what makes it stand out.
There is less hum on the highways. Since the majority of terraces are buried, the noise from them vanishes. Instead, you hear those muffled conversations at bus stops and the soft, padded sound of tires crawling over fresh flakes: “They’re saying another 40 cm overnight.” Once more.
Life bends; it doesn’t stop. School ski trips alternate between being cancelled and being modified. Deliveries stuck in the valley are a burden for small businesses. The grandparents who were meant to visit for the week stay at home because they are too anxious about Sunday’s descent.
But all of a sudden, children find the street to be a playground again. Scooters are replaced by sleds, and the week’s true star is the ancient plastic toboggan that has survived three moves.
| Key point | Detail | Value for the reader |
|---|---|---|
| Anticipating travel | Arrive earlier in the day, check chains, adjust routes based on local info | Reduced stress, fewer risky night drives in heavy snow |
| Daily micro-gestures | Clear snow several times, protect entrances, keep gear handy | Safer paths, fewer falls, less exhausting end-of-day work |
| Listening to locals | Heeding road agents, shopkeepers, and bus drivers’ warnings | Real-time, grounded decisions beyond generic apps |
FAQ:
Question 1: Will the roads in the department stay open if it snows 20 to 50 cm every day?
Question 2: What should I bring if I’m coming for the first week of the holidays?
Question 3: Is it still safe to drive to the resort with kids?
Question 4: What should I do when I get to the rental chalet and it’s covered in snow?
Question 5: Will ski resorts close because of all the snow, or is that good news?
