Ski holiday in Arc 1950

Margaret and I in Arc 1950 with a view of Mont Blanc between our heads

Just back from a week in Arc 1950 with Margaret, Sam, Lucy, Arthur and Saoirse. It should have been the week that Arthur learned to ski, but instead of digging in his edges, Arthur dug in his heels and was not in co-operative mood.

He’s only just turned three and perhaps he’s a wee bit young to be skiing. I’m sure he could have done it, but he decided he didn’t want to and, with Arthur, there’s not a lot of hope persuading him once he’s made up his mind.

Sam had bought him a ski jacket, salopettes, reins and goggles and we hired boots, skis and a helmet when we were out there.

He is quite interested in skiing, but it all started to go wrong when we put his salopettes on. He didn’t like the feel of the material on his leg and that was that! He wouldn’t have his ski jacket on, he wouldn’t put his boots on (let alone his skis) and you’d think his ski helmet was full of wasps. When it came to the safety reins, we might have been trying to strangle him.

During the course of the week, we did manage a few small victories. It was like negotiating with the DUP over Brexit, and we compromised to the extent that he didn’t have to have his ski jacket on in the chalet. It would be put on outside and zipped up only half-way.

The salopettes seemed acceptable if he had trousers on underneath and so couldn’t feel the shiny material.

The chalet hosts (Henry and Chelsee – yes spelt with a double ee) gave us some moral support and persuaded Arthur that he should try his skis on. After a couple of days, we got them on in the house and he’d also try them outside but wouldn’t wear his helmet or reins.

Gosh, it was hard work! We did manage to take him up to Arc 2000 where there’s a magic carpet and learner slope. Sam took him down a couple of times (holding him between his legs) and once we let him go and he skied around 10 metres on his own.

It was a shame that the skiing didn’t grab him, he could certainly have done it, but maybe next year.

In other respects, it was a great week. The snow was crisp and deep and the weather sunny. In midweek, it snowed heavily one day and added a good 12 inches to the cover.

Arthur had real fun playing in the snow. We built a snowman and then knocked it down before any other kids did so, we threw a few snowballs, Arthur did a snow angel CLICK HERE and he had great fun crawling around on all fours in the deep snow. 

My skiing was successful by my standards. I fell over three times, skied around 20 to 25 miles in a morning or afternoon (between child-care duties) and really enjoyed some of the cruisy blues in the bowl above 2000. Now I’m 65, I get a reduced ski pass and have to pay €215 instead of €269.

Here’s me having a very gentle ski in the bowl above Arc 2000 CLICK HERE. There’s a fantastic view of Mont Blanc. 

On the last day, I went out with Sam and we skied down to Villaroger. The classic run in Arc is the Aiguille Rouge, which starts at the peak of the Aiguille Rouge at 3226m and runs down to Villaroger at 1200m. It’s a length of 16km and a descent of 2000m.

I’d done some of it a couple of years ago when Sam and Lucy were staying at Villaret and it hadn’t gone well. I was skiing down from above Arc 2000 on a fairly busy section but keeping control quite well when I hit a chunk of ice deposited where the pisting machine had not quite matched up its previous course. It was a famous comedy fall because I overtook Sam on my back, like a 15-stone turtle, but I did break my glasses and when we stopped at a café a little further down, I managed to push the lenses back in, but mixed them up so I had wonky vision until I realised what had happened and managed to sort them out that evening.

I’m a bit more practised these days and my technique is a little better, so Sam was sure I could do it and, besides, it would be a bit of an adventure.

It is good to have a destination for your skiing. I’ve enjoyed it when we’ve been across to La Plagne on the Vanoise Express cable car or down to Peisey-Vallandry at the other side of the mountain. We joined the Aiguille Rouge from the Lanchettes lift in Arc 2000. It’s a mix of red and blue runs, but the blues seem as steep as the reds in places and the snow was quite mounded during the afternoon, so I was at the limit of my skills.

Lower down, there’s the option to take a longer ski road rather than the steeper red, so I could go into cruise mode. I was happily doing this when the road crossed the red and I spotted a lone skier coming down fairly gingerly. His body language suggested he was way out of his comfort zone, but I didn’t think any more of it. I was cruising down when, suddenly, my ski wouldn’t turn and I found myself falling forwards. There were only two of us on this piste (Sam had skied ahead) but the chap had managed to ski into the back of me! I was lying in the snow and he was standing there leaning back on one pole and windmilling his left arm to try to regain balance.

I offered him a pole which he grabbed and pulled himself upright, then he did the same for me. He apologised and I said he should go ahead of me, which he did. I didn’t see him again, so he either skied into the forest or jumped straight on the lift at the bottom.

At Villaroger, the last section to the lift was the option of a short, but very steep section (heavily rutted) or a loop of ski road. I took the ski road, but halfway down the snow ran out and I misjudged my stop in the slush and skied onto a gravelly patch. My ski stopped and I carried on – my second tumble of the day. Thankfully, there was no-one to witness this one.

I’m glad I did it. Villaroger was one of those fails that you need to put right (like Renard) and it’s something to be able to complete a long, single run with such as fall in altitude. Perhaps, one day, I’ll do the black at the top.

In between skiing, I was helping out Margaret with child-care duties for Arthur and Saoirse. Saoirse is developing so fast. She’s just four months, but is looking around at everything, has enough core strength to pull herself forward in your arms and can move her head to her will. She’s starting to get some hand and eye co-ordination so she’s starting to grab things and pull them towards her mouth.

She likes to sit on your knee watching everything that’s going on; even better, she likes to be carried facing forward to get a better view. Best of all is to be stood up on the floor when she locks her legs and thinks she’s a fully-fledged toddler.

Here’s Saoirse enjoying some time on her feet CLICK HERE. She thinks she’s dancing, and Arthur is doing a great job of entertaining her. 

Babies seem to develop so fast at this age that I’m sure we saw her come on in the week we were with her. On a couple of days, I carried her in the sling, so we could take Arthur out to play in the snow. She goes to sleep fairly quickly and seems to quite like it.

It’s not so good for the carrier – I have to worry about the sun in her eyes, on her face or scalp, snow blowing in, getting too hot or too cold and whether the straps are rubbing her face. She also feels quite heavy after a couple of hours and you don’t want to sit down for long in case she wakes up. So, while Margaret and Arthur were sitting in a café in the sun, I was strolling around Arc 1950 until I was absolutely sure that she was asleep.

Actually, it’s rather nice to be cuddled up with my granddaughter and she gets lots of admiring looks and comments, especially when she’s in her white, fluffy suit. Generally, it’s other grandmothers, but I did get chatted up by one yummy mummy who thought she looked like a little polar bear. I can’t decide if Saoirse will be a redhead or a blonde. She’s got a covering of fine hair which looked ginger last time I saw her, but now appears to be lightening to blonde. Sam was blond when he was a toddler, but it gradually darkened as he got older.

It was also good to spend time with Arthur. We bought him a jigsaw (four puzzles in one box) which I thought would be in separate compartments, but it turned out they were all mixed up together. One was four pieces, one six, one eight and one 10, so the pieces were a little different in size. The first time he did it, I helped by sorting out the pieces (which wasn’t as simple as it sounds) and after that, he wanted to go it alone. At the end of the week, he was able to do all four, unaided, in 10 or 15 minutes.

Arthur studying the safety instructions.

His games are very imaginative. He wouldn’t have the ski reins anywhere near him, but he enjoyed playing with them. They were a crane, an anchor and a rescue rope; also a fishing line where we caught Big Bad Barry, a very snappy fish. He gets very frustrated when a game doesn’t work, but also engrossed in one as well. The reins had kept falling off the chair back when he wanted them to stay and I suggested we tie a knot. Did Arthur want me to show him how to tie a knot? No, he didn’t! But it will stop it falling off, I told him. Arthur gets furious at the supposed interference and dances with rage – being three must be a nightmare sometimes.

He made us laugh on the plane back to Gatwick. He was desperate to hear what the captain was saying and to listen to the recording of the safety instructions and was getting irate that other people were talking. Margaret gave him the safety instructions and he spent 20 studying it intently (looking quite comical in his pyjamas with dummy and cuddly toy). He was particularly interested in the oxygen masks.