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Val-d'Isère: I said what??

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Veröffentlicht am 0:52 01.04.2008 von LottieLondon



1 von 1 Benutzern finden diesen Beitrag hilfreich

Woke up perched in a prawn-like position at the end of the bed by Tom's feet, still wearing all my clothes, make-up and contact lenses. Yeuch.

Meanwhile my sister had chosen to flaunt her youthful hangover-defying skills by getting up in time for her morning chalet rounds. I forgave her unseemly cheerfulness when she came back and cooked us all eggs and bacon – an unheard-of scenario before her jaunt abroad.

After a lot of head-rubbing and tales of drunken antics from the previous night, Tom and I headed out to sort out our ski hire. We’d already booked online at Ski Republic, which had a two-for-one offer meaning it only cost £89 for two pairs of boots, skis and poles.

Another plus with Ski Republic was you could enter your weight, height and skiing ability into the website, and even choose the colour of your equipment for that essential (?) coordinated look. There’s a branch right in the middle of the main square by the chairlift, but there are several possible locations so take care to pick the right one.

My sister and her snowboarder boyfriend took us up the funicilar to the Grand Motte, where the views are meant to be incredible. They probably were, but it was so cold all I could think about was which of my fingers was going to drop off with frostbite first. I always find the first morning of skiing absolutely terrifying and this was no exception - my skis felt like they were on loose hinges attached to wobbly strips of jelly.

It was a slow start, and I could sense the others’ desperate desire to race down the mountain, which only made me more nervous. Still, it was brilliant to be up on the mountain, and the perfect hangover cure. Eventually Tom and I decided to descend via what looked like a gentle blue run, called Santons, while the others chose the mogul-filled black run Charvet.

After approximately two minutes I realised why they hadn’t wanted to do Santons. Not because it was too easy – quite the opposite. Shaped like a long, narrow bowel, the run is the hardest blue I’ve ever come across, especially when ice and ski schools are thrown into the mixture. You end up cutting into one side of it only to come zooming down and charging up the other side at 100mph. Do this a few times and your thighs begin to feel like they’re on fire. Do it all the way down to Val village and you need a flame extinguisher.

It was hot chocolates all round, followed by a trek back to the apartment. Then it was time for my sister to check on her chalet guests again (such a hard life), but before long she was back with hearty leftovers for us. The four of us were all staying in the one room so decided to watch a DVD and have a fairly early night. I’m too old for this burning the candle at both ends malarkey!

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