We're Back, Still Intact

Well, we did not come back as pros, but we did ski....and fall...and get back up again. Sorry this update took a few days...I've been very busy preparing for the arrival of my good friends Julie and Jonathan. They are escaping Dallas and will be staying with us for the next 2 weeks!



I just cannot get over how beautiful the Alps are. This was my second visit, with the first being in Switzerland, and I was equally blown away by the sheer size and endless vistas. Lyon, where we flew in, is kind of on the western edge of the range. Within a very short time of heading out of the city in our little rental car, the mountains began to appear. A little bit further and the snow capped peaks peeked into view. The closest main town to our resort area was Bourg St. Maurice, where the main train station is located. During the ski season, there is a ski train that services the area, and it leaves directly from London. Unfortunately for us, our time frame didn't mesh with the train timetable, and even if it had, we were getting the tickets so late that we probably could have bought the whole train for what we would have paid for the tickets (ok, maybe not the whole train, but maybe a timeshare on our seats).



Upon our noon arrival, we discovered our room would not be ready until 5pm, so we quickly changed into our ski clothes in the resort bathroom and headed to the ski rental shop for our gear. Luckily for us, the ski school had a private lesson available at 3:30pm, so we met up with Jerome a few hours later to test the snow. Edgar had been wondering what all the fuss was about with skiing...after all, it can't be THAT hard, right? As soon as he put the skis on, he realized it was a little harder than the 6 year olds whizzing down the blues make it look (blue is the color code for the difficulty of the slope). We were doing so good in our lesson that Jerome thought we should graduate to the bunny slope, so we were pulled to the top by this springy pull device (as opposed to a chair lift) and one look at the steepness of this "bunny slope" gave me a slight panic. Until this point, I was completely showing off, my 3 days of skiing 10 years ago was all coming back...just like riding a bicycle. I was even spraying a little snow when I did my fancy stops. I just took a deep breath and told myself to go one zigzag at a time. As long as I went back and forth down the mountain instead of straight down, I knew I would be fine. Edgar got halfway down with the help of the instructor, so I decided to go. I did a few very good turns and then I guess I hit a spot of very packed snow, because no matter what I did, I could not get my ski to dig in enough to turn completely to the other side. I turned just enough to be facing straight down the mountain and off I went...straight down. I couldn't plow, I couldn't turn, all I could do was tuck my poles, try to keep my balance, and settle in for the ride. All I could see was the bottom of the hill with a 10 foot drop to the street level. Then I spied a slight upslope and tried to aim for it. I guess it did the trick because next thing I know, I'm spread eagle, face first in the snow, both arms outstretched (still holding the poles, though!), and one ski on and one ski off. I took a quick inventory of all my body parts and realized I had made it with nothing broken! By this time, Edgar and Jerome were just staring at me so I gave them a quick thumbs up and shouted, "Don't worry, I'm OK!" I guess I wasn't going at the same speed of light I felt I had been going, because they didn't seem to be that worried about me. Edgar made it all the way down with a few falls, but I think Jerome decided we should get a little more practice before we attempted the bunny slope again.

Our second, and only full day, we decided we could either spend practicing on the same 12 feet of slope at the bottom of the baby hill, or we could take the chair lift up to the top of one of the mountains and do a little hike. Who cares if we were the only people out of hundreds going up sans skis. I like to think we were the topic of many people's conversations coming up with some bizarre stories about us. Maybe we had already been there for a week and just wanted something different. Perhaps we were daredevils and had injured ourselves the day before but just couldn't stay away from the snow...we're such diehards. We did a really cool hike to an old WWII fort...we were on the Italian/French border after all. We watched all the people skiing so effortlessly and Edgar became convinced he could do it. So we headed back down the chairlift (more stories I'm sure) and he joined a group lesson for the remainder of the day. I was happy window shopping and people watching around town. By the end of the day, Edgar said he had made significant progress.

On Monday, we drove back to Lyon amid very heavy wind to discover our flight had been cancelled. Apparently London was taking a beating as well, so there was absolutely no chance of a take off or landing for us on Monday. It all worked out though. I can think of worse things than HAVING to spend an extra night in France. We found a cheap hotel in the city with the help of the airport information office, and within an hour we were on the shuttle bus. This is the first time I have booked a hotel without tripadvisor, but everyone needs a little adventure every now and then, right? The fact that it was right next to the bus and train station didn't scare me one bit; neither did the two stars and no photos or additional information in the brochure. I'm not very picky when it comes to hotels. As long as it's clean and I feel safe, I'm fine if it's a little dated. I don't know what stroke of luck hit us that day, but our hotel was two doors down from a very famous restaurant in Lyon. We saw it advertised on the city map, so we were thinking tourist trap for sure, but we were starving and it was raining outside, so we thought what the heck. It turned out to be some of the best food I have ever had. By the time we left, it was pretty much at its full capacity of 700. A quick google search when we got back home revealed just how special it was. So if every find yourself in Lyon, check out Brasserie Georges, you won't be disappointed.

I think when Edgar and I return to the US, we may try our hand at skiing again. Perhaps on some slopes not quite as steep as the Alps. I'm not kidding when I say one wrong move and you could fly off the side of the mountain...I almost did it! My first and only other skiing experience was in Angelfire, New Mexico. I think it may be just our speed...