Monday, 22 March 2010

My Left Leg.

My left leg threw a sickie a few months ago. I guess it must have woken up one morning and thought “Bugger it. I’ll have a few days off”. Those few days quickly turned into a few weeks and before I knew what was going on, I was carrying a passenger. More accurately my right leg was carrying a passenger. Stairs, walking, cycling and many more activities were pooh-poohed by my errant left perambulatory limb. As some kind of conscientious objector my left leg was living the life of Riley while poor old right leg was taking on the (not inconsequential) burden of all that extra work. As a result of its sloth, left leg became lame and withered while reliable old right leg, became sturdy and strong, muscles bulging and sinews taut.

Of course, it was only a matter of time before all this idleness came home to roost. Well yesterday was that time. You may be able to swing the lead when you’re out on a walk or riding a bike, but snowboarding is a different matter. Yesterday my left leg had to put in a shift at the snow-face and I can tell you, it’s not happy. The pain starts in the lower ankle, flares up again in the knee and follows through with muscular spasms in the thighs. Only the lower arse seems to be bearing it’s burden with dignity.

I’ve applied the usual remedy (God bless you Nurofen Gel) but secretly I’m quite pleased it’s had its come-uppance. Better still I’ve a nice surprise in store for it today, plenty more downhill’s and maybe, if I’m feeling mean (which is often the case) a mogul field or two.

That should teach it a lesson.

Saturday, 20 March 2010

The Boys Arrrrr Back!

Nous Sommes Arrivé

First impressions arriving into Saint Sorlin were excellent - french birds pushing in at the check-in desk, €25 four drink rounds, reblechontastic Savoyarde pizza, melting snow and rain.

Brilliant.

Last night entailed rest and recuperation in Aix les Bains - we struggled to find les bains but we did manage to siphon a couple of extra beds from a hotel corridor/walk-in wardrobe. I'm sure we would all rather risk the gendarme of the law than cuddling up to Rhodri for a nights kip.

alors, shockingly we have superb wireless internet access. This is more than made up by the lack of balcony and warm Desperados.

Last word must go to the excitement of the 'morrow, which will see us taking our first sweet, sweet ride, pausing only to stare out marmottes.

Below The Line......

Powder Monkey new boy Matthew, is shown below actively participating on our journey down to Portsmouth. And on the ferry to Le Havre. And whilst driving down to Aix les Bains. And in the Barrock at Saint Sorlin. Bless.

Monday, 8 March 2010

Nobody Said It Was Going To Be Easy


Bringing a new member into the fold is always a ticklish business and when they’re a novice to boot one should try doubly hard to make them feel at home. To this end the Powder Monkeys have sought out the advice of the good and the great of previous tours in an attempt to help Matt find his feet in those trying first few days on the slope.
We’ll start with Ashley Georgeson, the most recent beginner in the team.


PM: Ash, what lessons would you pass on to Matt as he takes his first timorous steps on to the slopes.

AG: Well, those early days on a hill are always going to be hard, so, it’s important to conserve your energy wherever possible. Obviously I like to save my energy by having lots of rest off the hill, but its on-piste that the clever rider is really able to make a difference.
Firstly, don’t expend vital resources by slowing down. Let gravity and nature take its course and head directly downhill towards the nearest blind crest. It might look dangerous, but that’s rarely the case in practice. Also don’t be fooled by those clever instructor types with their funny little turns and rules of the hill. Straight lines are where it’s at. They don’t want you to go quickly because you might realise that lessons are for losers and subsequently ask for your money back.
Secondly, try aiming at things. This isn’t as daft as it sounds. As a beginner your skill levels fall a little short of what is needed in the accuracy stakes. See some skiers coming in from the left? So what, aim right for them, you’ll never hit them in a million years, and anyway, if you do, they’re only skiers and we know they all love a good moan.
Finally, it’s the huge effort of coming to a halt that really gets the old lactic acid build up in your thighs (the boarders Achilles heel). So, why not use your surroundings as a brake. This usually means careening into your mates at unabated speed, often with hilarious consequences. One word of warning though, don’t shout things like “Watch out” or “Out of my way” at them as this can give the nippier and more attentive ones the chance to get out of the way.

PM: Well thanks Ash. Some real gems for the beginner there. Let’s turn now to Rhod. Someone once said of Rhod “Watching him nail a turn is a bit like watching Frank Bruno in a tutu pretending to be Darcey Bussell dancing Swan Lake. He can do it but not in a way you’d expect and certainly not in a way that’s pleasing to the eye”

RE: I remember well my first snowboarding trip. Those exiting pain filled days and hazy wine filled nights. I think the approach we took on that first trip would stand any young boarder in good stead as he applies himself to learning the basics.
What you really need is a large group of people you don’t know, who’s idea of a good night out in the resort is to each drink two bottles of wine over dinner(often whilst standing naked on a chalet table reciting rugby songs) followed by ten minutes of hard vomiting (extra points if you can project your efforts into the motif of a national flag ) then be in bed by seven o’clock sharp. This leaves the resort almost empty of British idiot-boys so the novice winter sports enthusiast can explore at his leisure
Subsequently, when you and your fellow novices return from the pub you should be kept awake by the machine gun snores emanating from the other rooms in the chalet and the gag-inducing miasmas creeping out of the fondu restaurant next door. The upshot of this is that you have every incentive to get out into the quiet fresh air of the hill the next morning. It’s never a problem to wake up by eight in the morning to go to lessons as you never went to sleep in the first place! Finally if someone suggests you do a certain run “’cos it looks nice and flat” have a good long think about the mechanics of snowboarding, the important role gravity plays in the process and then hit them, repeatedly if necessary.
Luckily we didn’t pick up to many bad habits from that first trip other than a fondness for Genepi.

PM: Eh, thanks Rhod, not sure what the advice was there, but thanks anyway, let’s move on. Steve Darcy is next.

SD. Hello chap. One of my greatest bug-bears is that as a novice you tend to be at the whim of lily livered foreign types who don’t know the first thing about discipline, so I’d like to focus more on what I’d do if I were an instructor.
Learners these days have everything done for them. That’s rubbish. It’s the culture of failure where everything is a positive even when you’re clearly quite crap. Well, I’d soon put a stop to all that with Steve Darcy’s Snowboarding Boot Camp. (SDSBC)
The key to it all is to keep them on their toes (unless they need to be turning on a heel, but erm.... well, you know what I mean). When out on the hill with my charges I’d keep them alert by making lots of sudden darting movements across the piste (almost as if I was out of control, even though I wasn’t). Moving about like a stabbed rat in a pinball machine you soon find out who’s got their eyes on the prize. This fulfils Steve Darcys First Law Of Snowboarding. Stay Alert! I wouldn’t confine my activities to the pistes either. Wait until the unsuspecting beginner gets on to a ski lift for an undeserved rest then, just as his relieved buttocks kiss the foam padding , give him a quick jab in the ribs and launch him face first into the snow/catch netting. They love it, and to prove it they’ll often bellow oaths and improbable suggestions after you as you speed up the hill giggling to yourself.
Lastly, beginners can become quite tiring, if this happens, simply get yourself a couple of bottles of red wine at the local mountain chop-house and fall asleep with half a book, they soon lose interest and shuffle off on their own.

PM: Brilliant Steve. Finally, we have a few words of wisdom from the man himself Phil Ashworth.

PA:Thanks PM. My advice is more spiritual than practical. I think it’s important to focus on the inner man. To this end I like to adopt a boarding persona when I’m out on the hill. I even go as far as to wear the right gear so that I bear more than a passing resemblance to my alter-ego.
In my case this is none other than the hero of snowboarders everywhere and all round good bloke/robot C3P0. Yes, leading light of the Star Wars films and my special pal, C3P0 is my guide, my mentor and fashion guru all rolled into one.
It’s not just the look that makes him special, it’s his bravery and style that set the example for us all.
Remember if you’re on the hill, and your resolve is slipping, even if you just fancy a sit down in the middle of the piste for a quick suck on the hip flask, just think “What would C3P0 do in this situation”.

PM: Well chaps, that’s great all round advice. If I were you Matt, I’d cancel those lessons now, with friends like this you’re sure to be flying down the slopes in no time.

Saturday, 20 February 2010

Return of the Famous Four.

Joy! Winters nadir is a distant memory and an excitingly snowy New Year once again heralds our return to the slopes. Eager as we are in our pursuit of the ideal winter holiday, we’ve spotted a likely haunt and we’re ready for some fun. Our destination this time is the mysterious Saint Sorlin d’Arves.

Now then, were ski resorts girls at a disco, then for us St Sorlin would bea pretty girl whom we know so little about. She may turn out to be dull, like cats and dance self-consciously whilst wittering on about the romantic poets. Or, on the other hand, she may be the broad minded daughter of a brewery magnate who’s after a bit of rough. We’re yet to find out (brewery heiress with luck). However, that’s all part of the fun of trying new places, you never know when you’ll bump into a brewery heiress, myopic supermodel or “actress”. Just thank God Tiger Woods doesn’t ski.

The truth of the matter is that we’re circling the room dancing with as many girls as we can. All the time casting meaningful looks at our former belle, the ever saucy Val d’Isere, with her pretty white dress, obvious charms and an entourage of eager suitors. Tart! You’ll be back! (So will we)

Anyway this year we’ve brought some new blood into the team; We still have Ashley(youthful exuberance), Phil(experienced Himalayan explorer) and Rhod(grumpy, plump, insurance-risk). But, we’ve also recruited Matt (tea-boy and poker school victim). Matt is a first time boarder (long time reader) and has the joys of ski school to look forward to. If I remember correctly this involves a bunch of gauche French types who’s “ teaching” technique (if you’re a bloke) entails pointing, shouting and shrugging, but switches to close contact body moulding, meaningful glances and smouldering pouts if you’re a woman anywhere between ten and a hundred. Good luck Matt!!

In a bid to make the trip as complicated as possible, we’ve decided on a multi-transport, multi-destination pfaffathon involving cars, overnight ferries, the tunnel and a number of interesting French towns to explore. Plus Lens, which is a bit of a dump. We’re quite looking forwards to Aix les Bains, alpine spa town and night number two on our itinerary. Aix hosts a large collection of Rodin’s art, the second largest in France (possible museum trip ahoy!) and between 1948 and 1960 hosted motor races around the streets of the town with luminaries such as Stirling Moss and Jean Behra making appearances.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aix_les_Bains

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aix_les_Bains_Circuit_du_Lac

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saint-Jean-d'Arves

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Les_Sybelles

Thursday, 2 April 2009

A Fool and Their Money are Easily Parted.

A quick update on the boys poker school that has been going on all week.

Final results are as follows

Ash 4 wins 3 second places.
Rhod 3 wins 3 second places.
Phil 1 win 2 second places.

Final Cash standings

Ash £35 up.
Rhod £20 up.
Phil £15 down.
Kev £40 down.

Kev's lack of appearance on the score sheet should be viewed as the philanthropic act of a beginner, that way he won’t hit us and might pay up the money he owes.

Don't try this at home.


The boys decided to demonstrate some jumps they'd perfected over the week in front of a chop house full of enthusiastic supporters. A nice downhil run with a pleasant lip providing the perfect launching pad. Here we see Rhod demonstrating how to nail the almost perfect landing, for which he recieved 7.4 from the judges.

Note. These jumps were performed by professional idiots on a closed area of off-piste. Do not try this at home, even if you can find a way of getting snow at the bottom of your stairs.

9.0


Ash gives a perfect example of his signature move, "Loose hands". He later admits that this was a last minute change of plan from his standard jump "Corporal Punsihment". Still, a nice move with plenty of skills on show.

9.9


A bit of ad-libbing this time as Rhod demonstrates "The Plover". Only a loose Camelback water pipe preventing him from achieving top marks.

Wednesday, 1 April 2009

Breaking news: It’s DĂ©jĂ  vu all over again!


News has just arrived fresh from the hill (Carrier Marmot) that a spat has erupted between tourists Evans and Carrick. Apparently Mr Carrick has taken the huge media interest in Evans’s tree incident last year as a personal slight. His response was both swift and devastating; he rode headlong into a tree. Not the most original of headline grabbers I’ll grant you, but effective nonetheless. As usual we aim to provide film footage of this curious event including a diagram of how he managed to extract himself unaided from what some observers have disparagingly described as “a very small bush”.

We hold our breath.

Time for an update.


We’ve arrived safe and well, no drama and no mishaps. An amusing evening in Lyon to start the holiday including a couple of French student bars. The students all appeared to be intent on out-frenching each other. Everywhere one looked there was a plethora of scraggly beards, pebble glasses and berets accompanied by the unmistakable whiff of Gaulloise. The only missing element from this pastiche was a chap in a blue striped jumper selling onions from his bicycle. We hung around for a bit but……

So, what’s the opposite of an all-in holiday? I’m not sure what they’re called but we’re on one. Obviously during these days of financial rectitude the boy’s paid close attention to costs when booking the holiday. Having said that there are a number of things one takes for granted. Certainly towels would be part of the deal in most places, but five quid per person for towels??? No thanks, we could buy some for that. I’d like to watch TV please? What’s that you say? Forty pounds? FORTY POUNDS? No. No thanks. Bugger off. You can also pay fifty quid to pay for your room to be cleaned. Guess what we decided to do??

Anyway, that’s the downside, the upside is plenty of snow, lots of nice runs and no queues. We’ve bagged quite a bit of the hill so far and it all seems quite nice. My only complaint would be the fog, which seems to be a bit persistent at the moment. On a lighter note I had an amusing few minutes chasing a runaway snowboard today (a first for me). Ash had left his board standing proudly in line with the rest of our planks in the snow at one of the nicer secluded mountain chop-houses. We’d been there a good quarter of an hour enjoying the sunshine when after listing to port for a minute or two the board fell over. We all laughed, and then it started moving, gathered a bit of speed and disappeared over the edge of the piste. Oh dear. I dashed over to my board, clipped in and without a thought for personal safety, launched myself into the fog that had suddenly appeared from nowhere. Thirty seconds later I’m on the middle of a piste with skiers passing either side, but no sign of the errant board. Fortunately the fog lifted and there it was about fifty yards away nestling in the snow like a bolted horse cropping the sweet grass of freedom. But with snow.

Apologies for the lack of updates but the French have focussed on the ‘less’ aspect of wireless which requires one to be in a certain room at a certain time wearing a pink carnation and sporting a financial times under your arm.

That's it for now, we're all suffering a bit today, partly due to the massive all dayer we had on the hill yesterday and partially because we stayed up late celebrating Ash's birthday.

More soon, inc pictures.

Thursday, 26 March 2009

Dawn Of The Shred


What's black and white and Shred all over

As the ever eloquent elucidator exemplifies earlier, we are almost on our way to the wonderfully titled Savoie (Savouè d'Avâl) Department in the French Alps, and more specifically to Valmeinier in which we have intentions of laying down long, sweeping carves over the piste, bowls and trees (Rhodri has fine form carving into trees, see the previous post Re-live the fateful day.)

But before we can show the EuroMalingerers the sick moves honed by two seasons of North American Hardcore Shred we need to get there. This does involve driving through idyll, as I imagine the Paris-Lyon leg of our journey will become with the rolling countryside surrounding us. It's the EuroTunnel portion that gets me little anxious - a travel fire extinguisher has been packed just in case.

But of course we jest. We have utmost respect for all things French and German and will be representing the courteous demeanour that our Continental Cousins come to expect of the British. SO great care must be taken not to mention any of the following:

  • 'Jokes' about the war (or about the other war (in fact all wars))
  • Politics
  • The Feckin Credit Crunch
  • Cultural Stereotypes
Which should limit our conversational potential too The Art of Snow, Beer, Food and Merry Making - which is just as it should be.

Adieu

Tuesday, 24 March 2009

What the Dickens?


Great Expectations.

Well, the school bell is about to ring and we’re all set to go. Bags packed, socks rolled up, snowboards waxed and pants turned inside out.

What can we expect from this years winter sojourn I wonder? Let’s look at the facts.

Firstly we start the week with a lovely road trip through the delightful French countryside during early springtime. The opportunity to sample the sights as we cruise down empty autoroutes is one not to be missed. Spring is in the air, the buds are bursting from their winters shell, the birds are singing and hygiene conscious Frenchmen are contemplating a new pair of underpants.

A Tale of Two Cities.

Once we arrive at our destination, the twin resorts of Valloire and Valmeinier the fun really starts. There are plenty of runs to explore, nineteen greens, twenty five blues twenty one reds and eight cheeky blacks to complete the set. The boys, keen to let their OCD* tendencies flourish, plan to try and “Bag” as many of them as possible. There are nine mountain restaurants “Chop Houses” if you will, which we also plan to visit as part of the overall mountain experience. Our only hope is that there aren’t too many mogul runs. These are normally fairly steep pistes which our skier friends, for reasons best known to themselves then turn into “The Devils Goosbumps”. Suffice to say most snowboarders find them tedious and unnecessary in the extreme.

Bleak House.

Attention now turns to the accommodation and facilities.
The brochure claims “Les Hauts de Valmeinier, built “Chalet-Style”, is situated directly on the slope in the highest part of Valmeinier. Restaurants, supermarkets and sports shops are located nearby. The centre of Valmeinier is only approx 250m away. The accommodation has a pool and fitness room.”
TRANSLATION
“Les Hauts de Valmeinier is a small apartment halfway up a mountain near the top of a lift, close to a recent avalanche. Shops are approx 250m away down a cliff. The accommodation has a pool which will be full of Germans and a gym gathering dust.”

Amusingly the brochure also claims the apartment is “Spacious by French standards”. I think I can now safely reveal, having received all monies for the holiday, that we will be staying in German owned accommodation, hence their withering appraisal of French habitation standards. At least the lifts will be on time.

The swimming pool has caused quite a bit of excitement prior to departure and as is often the case in these sort of resorts, the house rules differ somewhat from the usual British stuff. No bombing, diving, heavy petting etc has been replaced by “Boxer style swim shorts not allowed in pool!” One can only presume this is on grounds of hygiene, although why the French have chosen to go over the top on this item is odd when you consider their usual bohemian approach to personal cleanliness. I guess it’s the German influence again.

Hard Times.

What will the weather be like? Frankly I don’t know. I do expect there to be some snow and some sun, probably a bit of wind as well. I could check with the BBC weather centre, but frankly I’d be better off consulting a bit of seaweed in a jam jar. The best part about going at this time of year is the prospect of sunshine late into the evening something that will allow the boys to rest their weary legs in the evening calm, drink in hand, sunglasses perched jauntily on the forehead and after-sun soothing frazzled skin. Just remember not to fall asleep as it can get a bit parky later on.

The Lazy Tour of Two Idle Apprentices.

And what of our hosts? It’s an interesting part of the world. Whilst in France we’re only a couple of miles from Northern Italy (The smartly attired posh ones). Stranger still, we’ll be surrounded by Germans, something the French and Italians have had a bit more practice at than us. All in all an eclectic mix of nationalities, let’s hope we can all be friends.
.
*OCD. Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.
.

Monday, 9 March 2009

They're Back!


Yes!
Yes! It’s that time of year again. Your favourite humorous self aggrandising holiday blog is back, and this time, we’re frivolous.
.
Gravity!
This years top mountain destination is the Valmeinier-Valloire combination of the French region Savoie. The area has all the ingredients us monkeys need for a week of gravity powered fun. It’s cheap too!
.
Sumptuous!
Regular readers will no doubt be confused by this years choice of a European destination. One only has to consider the fulsome praise lavished on our North American resorts last season where sumptuous on-piste dining and comfort facilities scored particularly well compared with their dowdy European counterparts.
The circumstances surrounding the shift of venue this year are diverse. Some of the team felt keenly about a responsibility to reduce our carbon footprint…… particularly whilst the dollar is so strong compared to the ailing pound. No ten hour flight to San Francisco for us this year. Shamefaced at our previous attitude towards transatlantic air travel we going green and relying on the good old motor car to get us where we want to go. A resolution to support the larger European family and a philanthropic desire to prop up the ailing French economy has certainly played its part in the recent volte-face. Frankly though it’s the credit-crunch that has had the most telling impact on our choice this year, that and the perpetually mystifying lack of “Fat Cat” style bonuses. “Cheap and cheerful please, were all skint".

Van?
So who’s going? Perennial tourists Phil Ashworth an Rhodri Evans will once again be leading the van in the assault on Europes finest slopes. The battle is further joined by two more crowd-pleasing picks and returning tourists Kevin Carrick and Ashley Georgeson to make up what can rightly be considered something of a touring dream team. (Think Harlem Globetrotters on snow)
.
Exotic.
Tell me more about the resort blogmaster! I hear you say. Well, the two villages of Valloire and Valmeinier straddle the three small valleys that make up the Galibier-Thabor ski area. Only a couple of miles from Italy there are plenty of resorts in the proximity. Indeed the team are provisionally planning an excursion to the exotic delights of Sauze d’Oulx which is just the other side of the Frejus tunnel. It's a re-visit for one of the monkeys, but who???

Austrians?
One facet of the holiday we are anticipating an improvement on compared with last season is in the crucial area of Apres-Ski. No-one does mental snow related disco-bar-restaurants like the French, except perhaps the Austrians. But we’re not going there so it’s “bonjour” Pierre and “he-he-he-he-he-hello” badly mixed Europop.
.
Ramping!
Countdown posts will be ramping up the excitement over the next couple of weeks in preparation for departure on the 27th of March, live updates being available soon after. A new addition this year will see the introduction of a “Cut out and Keep” list of runs completed all strictly categorised for the budding obsessive-compulsive amongst you. (A first for a British Blogsite)
.
See you soon.
.
Rhodri.

Thursday, 3 July 2008

La Lindarets bites back.

A nasty fall on the hill for Andy today as he launched himself of his bike at speed, coming down the Mosette-La Lindarets fire road.

The trails had dried out nicely after yesterdays torrential thunderstorms (again). So the team set out for a pleasant little spin over to Switzerland. The weather was fantastic and the trails were grippy. A couple of steady runs down from Avoriaz and we headed across to the Mosette lift to take us over the top and into the land of chocolate and cuckoo clocks. Disappointingly the massive Mosette lift had been struck by lightening the previous day and wouldn’t be open for a couple of hours, so we decided to take the alternative route from a mile or so down the hill in La Lindarets.

Off we set and with Andy and myself at the front. The fire trail is a really quick and straightforward hack down the hill. However, to spice things up most mountain roads of this type have drainage ditches running across them at an oblique angle. Usually these pose no problem, particularly if you see them and are ready for their arrival. You can guess the rest. I slowed significantly for the last one before we dropped into La Lindarets, however I could hear Andy approaching behind. The crunch of gravel suddenly turned into the crash of metal and rock. Immediately everyone rushed to get to him lying in the middle of the road. I’d turned to ride back up the hill and as I did I saw Dave walk to him and without stopping start running to the phone which luckily was only a couple of hundred meters away at the nearest lift.

Most of the damage was clearly apparent, a huge gash above one knee and bad cuts on the other, this despite a fair amount of body armour. Cuts to the face and some problems with both hands all added up to a pretty nasty situation. It was with some relief that he appeared coherent and despite his injuries was not in a great deal of pain. Nonetheless we wanted to get him off the hill as soon as possible.
A couple of minutes in and Andy appeared to be calm and the situation had moved from dangerous to just nasty. The bleeding wasn’t too heavy and he just seemed to have suffered his major injuries on the extremities, so after taking some photos for posterity, we started thinking about what to do next.

We were a good six miles from home and we now had to think about getting Andy’s bike and gear off the hill, so I set off on my own to go and get the car. Cycling down a road that drops a good eight hundred meters in six miles meant it didn’t take me long for me to get back and I arrived up the hill in the car shortly after the ambulance had picked him up.

The ambulance had taken him (and Russ for company) to the nearest accident and emergency hospital in Thonon on Lake Geneva, about thirty miles away. Luckily I knew exactly where this was from previous visits to the alps with similarly unfortunate mates. Popping back to the chalet to drop the gear off, we collected some essentials, (clothes, books phones etc) and headed off to Thonon. Sure enough he was at the Georges Pianta hospital and we found him and Russ easily enough in the A&E department.

One thing I did find strange was, in the waiting room of the A&E they had a TV set to amuse the worried friends and family of accident victims. Rather distastefully it appeared to be showing wall to wall hospital dramas of a sub-Casualty genre. Inappropriate I think.

Anyway, after a bit of waiting around (three to four hours) we were delighted to discover that Andy was patched up sufficiently that we could bring him back to the chalet. So, after a bit of a faff whilst we clothed him we went to leave. Somehow we also picked up a random Dutchman who had also pulled a fetlock on the hill and was in urgent need of a lift back to Morzine. A quick stop at the pharmacie to empty them of prescription drugs and we were off.

All in all an unusual day. Still we managed to top it off with a Tartiflette and some beers at the Cavern and Buddha bars.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tartiflette

http://www.morzineseason.com/bars.html

Tuesday, 1 July 2008

Wet, Wet, Wet.


Three days in and things are going much as expected. My bike has been in the shop twice, both times for brake related maintenance. Hmmm. Having initially thought I could get away with a new cable I soon realised that my manly frame required something more substantial up front as a means of slowing me down. So, credit card at the ready I invested in a brand spanking new Hope Mono M4 with floating disc and braided cables up front. (Those in the know will now suck their teeth appreciatively. While those who aren’t won’t give a monkeys)

Anyhoo, having finally found something capable of arresting forward progress whenever I need it, I set off up the hill today with renewed vigour.

Straight aout of the box things were going well. So delighted was I that I promptly launched myself off the front of the handlebars and down a little ditch. The usual excuses didn’t apply as on this occasion I hit a the corner of a house which (I swear) seemed to leap out at me as I was taking the little bend. No permanent damage, since nobody witnessed the incident and my backside, ribs and shoulder broke my fall. Some nice bruises and a couple of sexy scrams to show for my efforts. All this was spookily reminiscent of my little tumble in Utah a few months ago, other than I was on a bike and it wasn’t snowing.

The afternoon was good lots of good riding until the clouds opened and dumped half the Atlantic on us. The lightening started to worry us and we dicedid a ski lift wasn't the best means of transport home. Not to worry though as the local mountain restaurants cater very well for weary, wet thirsty riders. A long spin back to the chalet through La Lindaret (Goat Village) as we circumnavigated the lift system which finally found us back in Morzine in time for a spot of wine and tea and a chance to pop some new brake pads in.

Pictures may well start appearing so as long as the French find a translation for Broadband. If you can see a picture of Alex prior to his crash then I guess they've worked it out.