We survived the 7 blokes last week and now have 14 very young men with which to contend. All aged between 20 and 27 from the Suffolk, Essex border, including Lester Piggott’s son, who came from Dubai via Moscow! Last week went well, the guys and the family were joined by Sara (owner) and her friend. After the previous week it was a doddle and wasn’t actually any problem at all despite eliciting less of a tip than the previous week. Well you can’t get much less than €0!
Sara had kindly offered to bring out anything in particular that we were missing along with the Thai Green Curry paste which has proved elusive here. Initially we asked only for toothpaste and shaving gel as they are so expensive in resort. A yearn did occur to us on our previous day off so we then requested some regular bacon, again something you don’t find out here apart from in small lumps as lardons but it isn’t the same on a breakfast plate. The photo shows our resulting delectation. Before she left I had to make an emergency request for a needle and black thread. My jacket seams appear to have been severed all down the right side by the edges of my skis. I have been consistently carrying them in my right hand since messing up my thumb which, whilst much better, still struggles to grip around 2 ski poles. The seams on both sides of the inlay decided to come adrift within 48 hours of each other and my sewing kit revealed about 8 inches of black thread with which I was attempting to begin repairs when the needle snapped on the first stitch! I had lost the other from the pack some time ago and this one had been frequently utilised to remove splinters so I’ve kept the sharp end.
I was pleased to find that the repairs I finally achieved with Sara’s equipment held up on our next excursion onto the mountain. We had left going out until lunchtime in an attempt to avoid the worst of the lift queues and to allow the sun to come around to our favourite area on the north west facing side of the slopes. Despite the early blue skies, there was a haze over the sun by midday and the slopes never really softened so our ice skiing was curtailed as it is not much fun. The sound alone, of fellow ‘skaters’ scraping across the surface, is enough to increase body tension and decrease technique just when it is required most. Fortunately, not many others had chosen the runs we were on (the single black blob lower down the run on the left by the orange cushion-covered snow canon is Roger) which made it a little easier when not having to negotiate human hazards as well as natural.
We still never cease to be in awe of the stunning view both on our commute to work but also from the chalet itself, even the kitchen window, as dawn breaks and the sun sinks below the hilltops. Sorry if I’m being boring with these photos but the light changes each time as the sky’s hues vary from minute to minute. I am less repetitive for the guests as they are new willing victims each week to share in the glory. I suggested to the lads yesterday evening that the sunset might be a nice picture to send back to family. Needless to say they could barely register what I was talking about!