Day 3, Monday: another absolutely glorious day with bright blue sky and lovely warm sunshine. How long will this last - well until Wednesday according to WeatherPro, when we are forecast wind and rain at low altitude and snow higher up.
I wasn’t due at ski school until 2pm, but I went down to the funicular with Sam and Lucy in the morning and, while they went up to Arc 1600, I walked across the footbridge into Bourg.
I’d taken my ski helmet off yesterday and I had a really bad case of helmet hair - I looked like a mi-ki dog - so this morning I decided to get a French haircut. There was some speculation as to what I would look like after being coiffured (and I was a bit grumpy about spending €20 on a haircut - that’s London prices) but it would be an adventure.
Well, it would have been, but Lundi is Bourg’s day off - very little was open and the hairdressers were not. I had a little wander around, read The Times on my Kindle in a cafe and I was wondering what to do by 11.30am. I walked back to the car and ate my lunch - a Savoyarde Sam special sandwich (ham, cheese and mustard) plus a piece of flapjack. I’d made a tray before we left thinking that it would work well for packed lunches and it was quite useful. I sat in the car going through Total French (disc 1) by Michel Thomas (which is a very good course) but the dozy woman student gets so annoying that I want to punch her.
I could now engage my fellow ski school students (most of whom are French) with such banter as “what opinion do you have regarding the economic and political situation in France at the present time?” I might try that on Jo if he starts banging on about my big skis again. By the way, I asked Sam if he thought I should hire some shorter skis and he very definitely thought that I shouldn’t.
I was at ski school bright and early at 2pm. Colin had been promoted to a better group and Tom had fallen over and hurt his leg. There was no more skiing for him - hopefully Mrs Colin’s evil plan was not coming to fruition. Meg was also on the up. She’d been skiing in the morning again and was now heading into a higher group - watch out Mr Meg, she’s catching you up.
I asked Jo about going in a lower group and he said I was too good for the lower group and that I should stay with him. He headed up the small ski lift and then up the longer one to above Arc 1800. I’d survived some left-foot side-slipping and a steepish slope when Jo pulled me over and said I was too slow and would hold up the others. He advised me to go to the ski school and trade in my group lessons for some personal tuition which would be better for me. I said I didn’t want to pay for personal tuition and was there a group in the morning that would be better suited to my skill level? He was quite surprised (as if English people didn’t function in the morning) but said that if I wanted to I could do that and I should rock up at 9am and ask for Loic.
With that helpful advice Jo was off, advising me to stick to this slope and I’d find my way down. I was at the top of quite a steep section of blue, but it was nice and wide, so I traversed back and to, going at my own pace and came back down into Arc 1600 in about 30 minutes. I was a bit grumpy about being left halfway up a mountain and told to find my own way back, but that’s the French for you! I consoled myself with a lemon tea, honey and almond crepe and a glass of Ricard. Actually, eating and drinking in the sun was a much nicer way to spend an afternoon that falling over a dozen times.
Sam and Lucy were not too late and we popped into the supermarket for fresh supplies - logs for the fire, beer, cheese and a few extras such as a bottle of limoncello!
The logs were about €4 a bag, but they were good hard wood, nicely dry and seasoned and they burned really hot in the stove. If you light that, it gets the whole chalet warmed through. I also bought some Beaufort cheese - with the summer (ete) cheese you’re supposed to be able to taste the grass and it did have a lovely earthy taste. Sam made a tartiflette for dinner because the gas bottle had run out on the hob and we hadn’t been able to find Luc (the ski instructor cum handyman, who looks after the place). The oven runs on electric, so we could use that and leave the half-finished cassoulet on the hob.
I wasn’t due at ski school until 2pm, but I went down to the funicular with Sam and Lucy in the morning and, while they went up to Arc 1600, I walked across the footbridge into Bourg.
I’d taken my ski helmet off yesterday and I had a really bad case of helmet hair - I looked like a mi-ki dog - so this morning I decided to get a French haircut. There was some speculation as to what I would look like after being coiffured (and I was a bit grumpy about spending €20 on a haircut - that’s London prices) but it would be an adventure.
Well, it would have been, but Lundi is Bourg’s day off - very little was open and the hairdressers were not. I had a little wander around, read The Times on my Kindle in a cafe and I was wondering what to do by 11.30am. I walked back to the car and ate my lunch - a Savoyarde Sam special sandwich (ham, cheese and mustard) plus a piece of flapjack. I’d made a tray before we left thinking that it would work well for packed lunches and it was quite useful. I sat in the car going through Total French (disc 1) by Michel Thomas (which is a very good course) but the dozy woman student gets so annoying that I want to punch her.
I could now engage my fellow ski school students (most of whom are French) with such banter as “what opinion do you have regarding the economic and political situation in France at the present time?” I might try that on Jo if he starts banging on about my big skis again. By the way, I asked Sam if he thought I should hire some shorter skis and he very definitely thought that I shouldn’t.
I was at ski school bright and early at 2pm. Colin had been promoted to a better group and Tom had fallen over and hurt his leg. There was no more skiing for him - hopefully Mrs Colin’s evil plan was not coming to fruition. Meg was also on the up. She’d been skiing in the morning again and was now heading into a higher group - watch out Mr Meg, she’s catching you up.
I asked Jo about going in a lower group and he said I was too good for the lower group and that I should stay with him. He headed up the small ski lift and then up the longer one to above Arc 1800. I’d survived some left-foot side-slipping and a steepish slope when Jo pulled me over and said I was too slow and would hold up the others. He advised me to go to the ski school and trade in my group lessons for some personal tuition which would be better for me. I said I didn’t want to pay for personal tuition and was there a group in the morning that would be better suited to my skill level? He was quite surprised (as if English people didn’t function in the morning) but said that if I wanted to I could do that and I should rock up at 9am and ask for Loic.
With that helpful advice Jo was off, advising me to stick to this slope and I’d find my way down. I was at the top of quite a steep section of blue, but it was nice and wide, so I traversed back and to, going at my own pace and came back down into Arc 1600 in about 30 minutes. I was a bit grumpy about being left halfway up a mountain and told to find my own way back, but that’s the French for you! I consoled myself with a lemon tea, honey and almond crepe and a glass of Ricard. Actually, eating and drinking in the sun was a much nicer way to spend an afternoon that falling over a dozen times.
Sam and Lucy were not too late and we popped into the supermarket for fresh supplies - logs for the fire, beer, cheese and a few extras such as a bottle of limoncello!
The logs were about €4 a bag, but they were good hard wood, nicely dry and seasoned and they burned really hot in the stove. If you light that, it gets the whole chalet warmed through. I also bought some Beaufort cheese - with the summer (ete) cheese you’re supposed to be able to taste the grass and it did have a lovely earthy taste. Sam made a tartiflette for dinner because the gas bottle had run out on the hob and we hadn’t been able to find Luc (the ski instructor cum handyman, who looks after the place). The oven runs on electric, so we could use that and leave the half-finished cassoulet on the hob.
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