One week is over. Gillian, MacRae and Tom departed, tearfully, this morning. Us five hard-core stalwarts have made the ascent from Arc 1800 to Arc 2000, and are in our new chalet, pondering our afternoon’s activities. All is quiet. It is the calm before the storm – Mandy and the other reinforcements are currently in the air somewhere over Europe, and our peace and tranquillity will be short-lived.
Arriving at the chalet ahead of the others has meant we have nabbed all the good rooms, which I feel is only fair. Wiseman and I have been reunited room-wise, after undergoing a trial separation last week. Wiseman was sharing with MacRae, which I believe was a sonorous experience for both of them. This week we share an ensuite room with something of an open plan feel to it. That is, there is no door to the shower room. Might make for eye-popping visual experiences in the morning.
The last six days have had beltingly-good weather and perfect visibility. The only thing interrupting the blue vastness of the sky has been the sun and an odd wispy cloud. Today more clouds are in evidence, and the temperature has risen noticeably, a sure sign that the promised snow is on its way. At least a foot of fresh powder has been forecast, and the resort is badly in need of it, the last snow that came this way having apparently dumped all over all the resorts nearby, bypassing Les Arcs completely. The pistes, while ok higher up, and covered with artifical snow lower down, are accordingly pretty hard, and unforgiving to those of us trying to learn new tricks.
Several of us were privileged to be under the tutelage of MacRae this week as he attempted to teach us 360 turns. Many hips and egos were bruised over the course of a few days, but many laughs were had, and the accompanying video footage will amuse us during the dark summer months (sic) that lie ahead.
MacRae didn’t restrict his entertainment to the slopes. One evening he arrived back in the living room, somewhat discombobulated, having landed heavily in a very hot bath, displacing most of the water onto the bathroom floor. The higher-than-anticipated water temperature then sent him shooting upwards in some distress, where he smacked his head off the low ceiling. Mercifully, he retained enough composure to remember to dry and clothe himself before running up the stairs to regale us all with the tale.
DC, also known as the Duracell Bunny, is itching to get back on the slopes, and even €29 for half a day’s ski pass hasn’t made him flinch. Kirsty, Filipideedoodaa and Wiseman are also heading out to get some skiing in. Me, I have decided to give my body a break, not to mention my throat, which has been sore all week. The sunny balcony is calling. However, being out on the slopes when the new arrivals appear is surely compulsory, otherwise some of the advantage of being here for two weeks will be lost…