Blogs and waffles

Saturday, our last day on the mountain, dawned. 'What shall we do today?' I asked Ian. 'Let's have a lazy day' he replied. We waved the kids off after breakfast and retired to our room to rest. Unfortunately, Pascal was in a hurry to get cleaned up, and he kicked us out almost immediately. As we hadnt shopped enough we set off to town and did some more, then returned to the room to rest. This gave me time to catch up on this blog, which took us to lunchtime. We wandered over to the French side again, and found a cheap and cheerful cafe overlooking the slopes. Luckily for me they did Vin Chaud, my favourite, and something I hadn't had yet on this holiday. I also went for a croque Monsieur, we were in France after all.  We were having such a nice lunch that we decided to finish with a Waffle, so we shared a lovely caramel one. It was just like being in Mablethorpe. 

Vin Chaud and me

Lingering over lunch

As it was now Saturday afternoon we wandered over to Paddys Irish bar in the hopes the football would be on. It was! Arsenal v Liverpool. The audience consisted of us too, both supporting Arsenal, a group of Germans, and a Liverpool fan who ended up crying into his beer as they lost 4-1. We returned to the hotel to find Vicky back from the slopes having had a good final day. The others arrived not long after. They had braved the black run with the sign 'experts only' at the top, and also had a go at jumping at the ski park. 

Chris before setting off on his intrepid adventure

Happy at having survived

There were still the suntan problems 

though

We wandered round to the Marseilles for the last time and amused ourselves by watching the Andorran traffic wardens putting tickets on cars outside the window, despite attempts to bribe then with a box of vegetables. One last drink in the bar, giant shorts dispensed by pascal for old times sake, and we were all off to bed. It would be a very early start tomorrow.

Lazy days of winter

'What shall we do today?' Said Ian the next morning. 'We could take a bus somewhere?' I mulled that over for all of five seconds. Taking a bus somewhere would bring us to a different Andorran town, a town that would have just shops. We would be going shopping. We had been shopping in Pas already. I don't  like shopping. Ian dosent like shopping. 'Lets have a lazy day'. Ian was all for that. 

We joined the kids for breakfast.  Sunburn had been a problem for them all. Vickys face was getting worse as the days passed. Most of it just peeling, but her cheek and chin had holes in them that were getting bigger by the day. Imagine, if you will, a zombie gradually deteriorating. Chris was getting concerned that if she drank anything it would come out of one of them. At least they should clear up before she goes back to uni in a few weeks time. Kathys was a little more discreet, a bright red band across her forehead that was mostly coveted by hair. Chris's was just the bit underneath his nose between his nostrils. Clearly reflection if the sun off the snow. Vicky was going with them in the morning, and we decided to meet at the same restaurant as yesterday for lunch. 

We read for a bit then left the room so Pascal could clean. Pascal appears to do everything in this hotel. He speaks no English at all. Only French, much to kathys delight, as she can converse with him. He is there at breakfast, he serves in the terrace during the day, and in the bar at night. If there is any trouble at night, or you have lost your key, your room, or you are too drunk, you call Pascal. 

'Lets go over to the French side' I said. 'Ok, said Ian, 'but I have been already'. The French side is across the slopes from our hotel, so called because just over a little stream is France. 

The French side

We wandered across, down an alleyway between restaurants, where Ian had warned me all the dogs do their business, (he was not wrong), to a little bridge. 'Cross over and you are in France' he said. So I did. 

Me in France

France

Well that was fun. We tiptoed back through the piles of dog poo into Andorra, and wandered round the town again. Shopping in Pas de la Casa is such fun. I did find the Jimmy Choo perfume I had been looking for though. We then purchased a coffee at a nice portacabin and sat in the sun watching the slopes. 

After that we hiked up the windy road to meet the kids at the alloted restaurant. More dog poo to be avoided. They were already awaiting us so we chose a table and ordered. Chris had gone for the 'big man' special. The nice lady at the till explained that if you were buying a full dinner (Chris), a salad (me and Ian), chips (me and Ian), a drink (all), and a cake (ok then!), it would be just 18€. So we got the 'free' cake and the rest and sat to enjoy our meal. 'Seems cheap' said Ian looking at the receipt. '38€ the lot.' We examined it carefully and found she had forgotten the 'big man' meal. We had been overcharged by 0.5€ for additional cheese though. We decided to overlook that. 'Who wants coffee?' I asked the group at large some time later. That turned out to be a schoolgirl error. I joined the queue with half a dozen people in front of me not expecting too long a wait. Unfortunately, all the people in front had some kind of tickets. These tickets all seemed to involve the one guy who was serving having to go into the kitchen, make something from scratch, then return with it. This happened with every person. Luckily, after no more than a fifteen minute wait, and with the queue behind me stretching out of the door and down the mountain, someone from the back spotted a problem and came out to help serve. He took his time putting on his blue rubber gloves before smilingly asking what I would like. 'Five coffees please'. 'Just coffee? Come around here'. Amongst much tutting from the three people still waiting for their specially prepared ticket meals I sailed past. Just another minute or so later he had removed his blue rubber gloves and was ready to go. He just had to wait a few more minutes while the barrel technician changed the barrel on the soft drink machine, which was right behind the coffee machine meaning both couldn't be used at once. 'Five espressos?' Said my man. 'No, cafe au lait.' 'Cafe au lait?'  'Yes, cafe au lait'. And we were off. The machine was going, coffee was pouring. Great. A few minutes later I had a tray in front of me with five espressos on it. I scratched my head. Was it worth it? I pictured the faces of the others when I showed up with espresso.  'Milk please' I asked pleadingly. He looked at me as if I had crawled from under a rock. A few ticket people sidled past me to the till. 'You want milk? In all of them?'  Give the man credit, he recovered from my heathen notion quickly and sloshed a bit of milk in each one. Knowing that was all I was going to get I handed over my money. Not twenty five minutes later we were all sitting down to tiny cups of extra strong coffee with a splash of milk. 

View from the big man cafe

Ian and I left the skiers to their planned afternoons, Vicky with Julie and the rest black runs, and set off back down the windy road. We had a good laugh watching a man trying to negotiate the kiddy slalom. He kept on spinning round till he was facing backward then falling over. He did keep on trying however. Back at the hotel We bathed and went down to sit on the terrace. We both ordered giant gin and tonics, then I opened my I-pad to follow the Rotherham game. More of that in a rival blog. 

Chris, Kathy and Alex arrived a little time later, hot and bothered and in need of a drink. 

Gin and tonic on the terrace

Julie had told Vicky that they would be finishing a little early to have a drink and award certificates, so Alex walked up to join them and give her a hand with her skis. Kathy wanted someone to go with her to buy sweets for work, so I ended up on yet another, mercifully short, shopping trip. As we met before tea, Vicky awarded me with my very own certificate. God bless the lovely Julie. After tea we played charades for a while before Vicky and Alex decided to go and look for the Mojito vouchers they had won at the quiz. They hunted high and low for ages but could not find them. Despite that, and because the Mojito bar was just next door, and Mojito Alex's favourite drink, they decided to go anyway. Only to find it closed!  Bad luck. After a couple of Pascals giant glasses of spirits it was time for bed. Last day tomorrow. 

Fear

Vicky and I had decided to ski with the others for the morning, so we breakfasted and headed out. I wanted to do a few easy runs so we started with some blues before going to the top of the mountain on the four man. The red that Julie had forced us to ice skate on was still really icy but I put on my game face and skidded down. We then skiied around that area for a bit, once again taking the button lift with the bend in it. No fallers either. It was then time to cross back over into Pas to meet Ian for lunch. That was when the trouble began. We took a four man right up to the top, the same way Julie had taken us the day before. As we exited right on top of the ridge I began to feel The Fear. The wind was gusting, and there were lots of other skiers. I then made the mistake of looking down. My god it was steep, and high. The Fear began to take hold. We needed to get down a steep, icy, extremely busy little slope or I would be stuck on the mountain forever.  I set off and somehow, a few near misses with other people later, I had made it down the first bit. I was now firmly in The Fears grip. The others cajoled me down the road we needed to take. What had seemed easy the day before seemed almost impossible today. My legs were like jelly. What seemed like hours later we arrived at the designated restaurant. Half way down that terrible run I had decided not to go to the lesson. I had also decided that I had given skiing a good go and now was maybe the time to retire. The Fear had defeated me. 'Would you like to go swimming with me?' Said Ian. 'I would love to' I replied. 

Vickys was not such a wimp, she was going to the lesson, but she made me go with her to tell Julie that I had chickened out. 

After waving her off, Ian and I set off for the pool. He had already scoped it out so knew the way in to the brand new giant sports centre. 

We purchased our tickets and our manditory swim caps, pink for me and green for him. Then we wandered through the cavernous empty building looking for the changing rooms. They were as enormous, and empty, as the rest of the place. We wandered down more wide open corridors before finding the empty pool. But what a view! Huge panoramic windows gazed over snow topped mountains. It must be one if the most scenic, and least used, pools anywhere. We both swam a good few lengths in our own private lanes, in our own private pool, before moving on to our private jacuzzi. Out of view of the pool itself, just in case it got busy, with an even better view of the peaks, we soaked in the hot bubbly water. Shame they weren't serving piña coladas. We left the way we had entered, alone again. 

We were back in time to cross to the slope and meet Vicky from her lesson. She was buzzing. Julie had taken them off piste and on a black run. 'Do you think Jackie will come tomorrow?' She had asked. 'Very unlikely' was Vickys reply. Once again it was tea, a quick game of cards, and bed. All this skiing is really hard work! 

Moguls are not easy!

Vicky had decided to have a morning off as well, so we breakfasted, saw the rest off, then along with Ian we went shopping again. We bought what we needed, along with some giant sandwiches, then lunched in our room. 

The ski class was down to five when we met Julie, and she took us up the four man that leads to the other valley, Grau Roag. The red down the other side was very busy, but when she set off calling 'follow me' we all did, like lemmings. The side of the run she led us to was very quiet, mainly because it was sheet ice. I was trying to remember all she had told us, but it turned out to be just a battle for survival, at every turn I seemed to slip and lose control. How I got down I will never know. At the bottom Julie explained that she has taken us that way deliberately so that if we ever got on steep ice we would know what to do. Thanks Julie! After that the lesson was mostly a doddle, and included a go at a slalom (a very small flat one). Vicky was best in group, I was worst as I kept getting going too fast ( for me) and had to slow down. 

A doddle until we came back up to the summit that is, and started on a nasty red back down into Pas. Did I say moguls are easy? Not these ones. The run was long, steep, and very bumpy. I still managed to just about get down in one piece though. 

After a well deserved bath we met for pre dinner drinks where the others told us of their day. Ian had had a lazy day reading in the room. Chris, Kathy and Alex had reached the furthest connecting resort of El Tarter. Kathy sent me a photo she had taken the day before, so here it is to brighten the blog. 

We ate, played pointless, then I had to retire due to exhaustion. 

Moguls are easy

As Ian wasn't skiing I decided to spend the morning with him then do the lesson in the afternoon. At breakfast Vicky and Kathy compared their sunburnt faces from the day before, with both having a white stripe where their goggles had been. After breakfast the kids went off to ski and Ian and I went off to shop. The rain of yesterday had completely disappeared and there wasn't a cloud in the ski. It was hot. We wandered around Pad De La Casa, looking for cheap perfume and sno shoes. I found that despite the number if perfume shops rivalling the number of pound shops in Rotherham, it was not cheap, and I decided not to bother. I don't like the town much at all. It's a purpose built resort, very bland, nothing like Morzine. Plus the lack of snow in the town itself makes it look shabby and dirty. Ian did manage to get his snow shoes though. We then sat in the patio in the sun with a coffee in blissful silence. 

The silence didn't last though, ad the outside barman came along and started up his big boom box. We retired inside for a while. At 12.30 we met the rest at the pre arranged restaurant for lunch. Unfortunately, because we didn't want a huge meal we got thrown out of there. The next place was more accomadating though, there we were allowed just paninis. The sun, and the kids, were so hot that we decided to sit inside in the cool. Even Chris had got a little burnt on the back of his neck. 

After lunch I returned to the hotel and changed into ski gear before meeting Vicky at the lesson point. I must admit I was a bit nervous, not having skiied that morning. Julia came to collect us, and we had pared down from twelve to seven, one of the missing being Alex, and one being the girl who was rubbish, much to my disgust. 

Julie took us down the short red before taking us up the four man chair to the top of the mountain, where all the hard runs are. We were at the very summit with steep slopes all around. She asked us to follow, giving advice on technique, so I didn't look up or down the slope, just ahead, and managed to get down in one piece. It looked really scary from the bottom though. She pointed out a nice hotel and a vodka bar before taking us up the longest button lift in the world, it even had a bend in it. The red run from the top was wonderful, snaking down through the trees, and we ticked off a lot of things on the way down. First she showed us how to ski moguls, the art is to turn on top of the bumps, moguls are easy! Then we skiied off piste a little way, and followed it up by a jump. We skiied wide slopes and narrow, and did lots of schussing. Back in the valley bottom we had to take a chair back up to the summit, and I was very nervous about how we would get back to Pas. No worries, she avoided the scariest, steepest looking red and took us down an easier one that came out on a blue. The last bit we did some synchronised skiing in pairs. We are apparently going to add one person each day until we are all doing it together. I thoroughly enjoyed the lesson. 

Ian was waiting to carry our skis, he had been trying out his snow shoes over the border in France, and was exhausted. Apparently it's not easy. We bathed and met down in the bar for a pre tea drink. 

After tea it was quiz night. There were not many teams so we split, Vicky , Alex, and I were 'Quizteams Aguilera' whilst the others were 'quizzy Rascals'. It was good  fun but neither team won overall. We did get some beer tickets and mojito tickets though. I was exhausted after that, so retired to bed. 

The wind and the ravens

We decided on an 8.30 breakfast as Chris and Kathy were desperate to get the first lift up and start skiing. The breakfast was very basic continental, but the croissants were lovely. Ian had made the decision not to ski, after weeks of deliberation, and was to visit the gym and walk instead. Back in rotherham he had made a big song and dance about my choice of bottoms, saying pink would clash with my yellow jacket, so it was with great amusement that he shouted me over to the bedroom window to show me three young ladies dressed in my outfit. The brighter the better for skiing in my opinion. All the better to see you when you are laid like a turtle halfway up a slope. 

The promised sun had not materialised and it was windy and raining! Nevertheless we donned our equipment in the tiny ski locker and made the very short trip across the road. The Hotel De La Piste is indeed on the piste. 

The usual faffing that occurs while we fasten our boots was missing though, due to the magic button. This is a button on the top binding that allows it to expand, a godsend for those of us with fat calves. So we were ready. We chose a four man chair up to an easy looking blue, and that was negotiated with little trouble. At the top the dull conditions, rain and wind made skiing very difficult, especially as it was the first run, meant to ease us back in. I had at least vaguely remembered how to ski this year and made it down in one piece. We had another couple of goes up there then decided to take a two man up to a different blue. The wind was very strong up there, but we managed to get down. Kathy didn't like it due to the narrowness of one section, but I found it ok. Chris was staying at the back to mop up any fallers when things took a comic turn. A ski class were all lined up listening to teacher when a gust took out the first in line, and the rest went down like dominos. Sounded great fun to see. We went back up the same run and down the red side, once again I was fine. Alex was doing great too. Apparently, despite Vicky telling us he had been skiing only once, he had in fact been multiple times, with his mum having been a ski rep at one point. This time, on his point duty, Chris saw a guy with a flock of ravens flying around his head, like harbingers of doom. 

We had arranged to meet Ian at 12 for lunch, taken in a slope side restaurant. 

After that Kathy and Chris went off over the 'other side' in search of adventure, while Vicky, Alex and I headed for ski lessons. The sun had come out so I sunscreened up, a wise decision as it turned out.  After the customary humiliation that is the test of your ability we were divided into groups. I was not the worst, and therefore the focus of all humiliation in our group, much to my delight. Our  instructor, Julia, was very nice and I actually enjoyed the lesson. Ski lessons, for the uninitiated, involve slowly descending the slope either singly, where everyone watches you and sniggers, or following in a line in the instructors tracks. This means there is lots if time for rest but little excitement. Alex was not enamoured but Vicky and I decided to go back the next day, especially as Julia said vickys technique was best. 

So it was 5pm before we arrived back at the locker, the latest I have ever skiied. Tired but happy. We bathed then met the others for tea, where the waitress pursuaded us into free shots of sambuca. Only Vicky bailed. Back at the hotel I retrieved my leftover brandy from the night before, while the rest had new huge drinks, and played a game before bed. 

Zero dark thirty again

As it was in Morzine last year we had to rise at an ungodly hour to start our skiing holiday. Roy arrived at 3.30, which was really 2.30 due to the clocks going forward, and picked us all up to go to Manchester airport. We arrived well on time, in fact we arrived three hours before the flight, to find the desks open. The problem was that all the tomson flights were at the same desk meaning the queue was horrendous, and heinously slow moving. People from the earlier flights were getting fractious, and we were tired, and Chris was annoyed because he was looking forward to breakfast. Two hours later we arrived at the desk to be presented by the very pleasant lady with a letter explaining that we would not be flying to Toulouse. The road to Andorra was blocked due to an avalanche so we were going to Barcelona instead. Okay. Booked in we hotfooted to the deposit for the skis, only to find it closed. We still had a little time, but some people were due to fly in 15mins and were very annoyed. At last they directed us down the other end of the airport , we deposited the skis and were off. On the plus side we went through security really quickly, everyone else was still queuing, and with no searches or holdups. Our flight was showing go to gate, so we went to gate, where there was a small food and coffee cart. Pastries and coffee were purchased, but almost immediately the flight was called. No worries though, because straight away they declared a technical hitch and suspended boarding. That gave us time to finish breakfast. At last we were in the plane, and departed for Barcelona only an hour late. The pilot elected not to crash into a mountain side and we arrived less than two hours later. The transfer bus was waiting and we set off for a four hour drive.  We stopped for a snack at what can only be described as a truck stop, where we were chased away from some outside chairs by a guy shouting at us in Spanish. So we settled in a very salubrious slab of concrete.

A couple of hours later and we at last arrived in Pas de la Casa, at 4pm, eleven and a half hours after leaving Rotherham. 

Our bags were loaded into a van and we walked up to the hotel de la Piste. Much to my chagrin the English guy at the desk announced that the kids had been upgraded to mountain view rooms, while we had paid extra! Cheek. The rooms were standard ski hotel fair, cheap and cheerful. We had paid extra to avoid the back of the hotel which is allegedly very noisy due to clubbers. However, just below on the terrace a guy was playing the biggest boom box at max volume. Great. We had our welcome meeting where they explained tea was at the restaurant next door.  So we mosied on round. 

After tea we were dead on our feet so retired back to the hotel for brandy and bed. The French guy, Pascal, and Kathy had a conversation, then he poured our Brandy. They were each half a large tumbler, for €1.50. No chance I could drink it and live, so I saved most for later and went to bed.