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.