Tag: Taking small dogs skiing

“There’s No Business Like Snow Business” – Our Season in the Alps!

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The ever-changing views; from the top of Bettaforca, evening falls on the Champoluc Valley.

We are well into our three months here in Monte Rosa and have really got into the swing. We enjoy the ever-changing views of the mountains, the smell of log fires and the muffled silence of a snow-covered wilderness. The days have been a glorious blur of joyous ski descents and beautiful walks with the dogs under bluebird skies, followed by a sauna, a simple, hearty meal and a DVD.

Our skiing has improved markedly, although the only Italian that I can claim to have learnt is the word for Haemorrhoids. This is a condition from which the Italian version of Facebook seems to think I suffer, judging by the frequency of pop-up ads for some special kind of haemorrhoid-relieving toilet paper! Continue reading ““There’s No Business Like Snow Business” – Our Season in the Alps!”

Experiments on the Edge of Control

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WOW! Did two fifty-somethings just overtake me?

“The fastest I’ve done is 128km per hour. That’s about 70mph!” “Really? That’s about the same as me!” claimed a youthful American accent, concurring with London. Both a little too loudly for the confines of a crowded gondola. “You need the right slope. One that is steep and then flattens off.” they added, for everyone’s benefit.

Such claims should not go unchallenged, but our eyes met and we kept our counsel. We didn’t really want to bother to engage or discuss the fact that with speeds like that, they should be in the Olympic team.

As we alighted from the gondola, Mark whispered in my ear “There was a strong smell in there.” “What do you mean?” I asked. “Of Bullsh…”  Continue reading “Experiments on the Edge of Control”

The Vikings Have Left the Building

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Frozen Waterfall at Gressoney St Jean

Peace has descended once more on the Lys Valley. The Vikings have left the building.

We suspect that they departed in the wee small hours and decided not to do anything as mundane as go to bed. Nightlife here is limited – we did once see a person dance on a table in bar but that was an isolated incident and happened well before 8pm.

Nevertheless, I heard some Viking improvisation. Sleep evaded me as a light switch in the next room was switched on and off really quickly to produce disco-effect lighting as an accompaniment to the clattering, singing and what sounded like handfuls of marbles being dropped repeatedly to scatter on the tiled floor.

Noisy neighbours for a week. Such are the tribulations of skiing for a season!

Continue reading “The Vikings Have Left the Building”