A Couple of Woosies

The plan was set. Alex and Sonia had called us on Sunday night. The forecast for Monday was sun, sun and sun. Perfect weather for skiing.

Up at 6.30 to cook the kids’ breakfast. Take them to the school bus stop and then back home to get ready.

Looked out of the bedroom window and there she was. Rising up out of the Med, some 50 miles away with its mountains cutting into the golden morning sky. Corsica. Due south and only visible from the Nice coast on about six days in the year, and this was obviously one of them. Within 15 minutes she had disappeared into that atmospheric conundrum. How come when she’s visible like that, standing like a huge rock off the coast, she just goes within minutes? Where does she go to? Why can’t we see her on those crystal clear sunny days in summer? Somebody must know – anybody?

J looked at the Vence forecast which had been promising sunny weather for all of this week. Showers! Only last night it had been the opposite – sun! I looked at my satellite map and although there were a few wispy clouds about, it looked clear. J looked up at the mountain behind the house. There were a few greyish clouds but nothing too threatening. A quick call to Alex to make sure they were still up for it.

We’ve been trying for over a year to go skiing with Alex and Sonia and a combination of various insurmountables has prevented us from doing so. My dodgy knee. The kids school being closed or closing early. Visitors to the house. Etc etc etc.

We probably left the house about 8.45am and 45 minutes later I was picking up the ski passes. We’d have been there earlier but for a convoy of three coaches who trundled up the road at approximately 20 kilometres per hour. The Frenchies didn’t bother. Blind bends with a 2000 foot drop on one side is just another little challenge to them and one by one, the little white Clios and Peugeots roared past us with the passing of the coaches their only objective. Unfortunately, none of them went over the edge!

At Gréolières the sky was clear. Not a single cloud in sight and being a Monday, not too many people either. The chairlift wasn’t working and was destined to be idle all day so we took the drag lift up the first slope and by 9.45am we were heading down a pristine piste untouched by anybody that morning apart from the piste checkers (see picture). Indeed, it was so quiet I asked J if the run was actually closed. A couple of runs later we bumped into Alex and Sonia and a couple of their friends at exactly the agreed time and place.

Back up the drag lift which I hate because the smells from the restaurant waft over it and irrespective of the breakfast you’ve had, you just can’t wait to get there for lunch. Another couple of runs and I looked at J and she looked at me and we both said at exactly the same time, ‘it’s a bit cold isn’t it?’ It was 11.30am and despite the fact that the sky was cloudless, it was bitterly cold. J’s feet were numb and my head hurt and in the final run down to the car, I actually felt my brain freeze just like it does when you eat ice cream too fast.

We called it a day, changed in the car (well I did) and then headed for the restaurant where we were to have lunch, but at 11.45 it was way too early, and given our friends were only on their 2^nd or 3^rd run of the morning and were likely to ski until at least 1pm when the morning pass expired, we didn’t fancy hanging around for another hour plus. And so we left  Gréolières to the keen, hardy skiers and headed home to get a fire on.

I’m sure Alex and Sonia think we’re a couple of woosies, but I hate the cold and J hates it even more!