15 March 2008- Back in Paris after a week of skiing, eating cheese and the trains. We got there in no time. Lyon is 500 km away but just outside of Paris, the train TGV can reach speeds of 300 km/hr. We changed to a regional train for the next mountain stops including Albertville, the home of the 1992 winter Olympics. Cute little village. There are lots of wineries down in that region which is surprising with all snow but it is still France and people need their wine. A couple castles on the way as well.
We got to Aime and then changed to a bus. The bus dropped us right at the Center (Plagne Centre) of the mountain resort. We had a nice lunch in the sun with Julian who was called off the slopes for a bit. We took another shuttle up to the area of the apartment called Soleil. Tiny little apartment but we weren't there for the accomodations. Julian went back to snowboard while we found rental skis, ski school and mountain pass for the Chad. Chad also required a nutella crepe. That is him and his beloved in the picture. Julian made reservations at the local restaurant and we dove right into the Alpine cuisine. Chad and I had the raclette, half a wheel of cheese melted onto plates with meats and potatoes. Julian and Jason enjoyed the fondue. Of course we shared, these are the ultimate sharing food experiences. We left stuffed full of cheese and goodness.
The guys started out right off at 9 when the lifts opened. My ski school started at 10. I was in a class with 3 Dutch, 2 French, and 3 Brits. All adults and all about my age. My instructor was not named Pierre but rather Ben. He was an excellent instructor. He kept us on our toes, or should I say, downhill leg. I learned to snow plow, turn and traverse. I tried side sliding but didn't have much luck. I was sick on Thursday- too much local wine and then Friday morning my left buttock muscle refused to remain still. I couldn't put my weight on it so I decided to forgo the skiing for the last morning. I could have done left turns only, fall for rights but I packed and cleaned instead.
The cutest skiers of all were the piou-piou class. 3 year olds with helmets and the tiniest little skis. Most were sliding around but looked adorable. They are rather extensive in lessons here for kids. We skied with the 6-8 year olds. They are much braver than the adults but then they have shorter falls to anticipate. I rode the lifts with them several times as their "accompany" but they were more experienced in getting off the lifts. I also rode the telebus with a little French girl in her "Charlotte aux Fraises" aka Strawberry Shortcake ski suit.
I fell once on the Poma lift, yes I am my mother's daughter. I fell after the chair lift because my classmate skied over my skis and dragged me for a ride. No damage to my shoulder (left one is still awaiting a surgery) and only a bruise on my left knee cap. A few more tumbles especially during the snowstorm on Wednesday and Tuesday after the drifts entered the runs.
I got some tips from my British and Dutch classmates on other travel locations. I will hope to see those places as well as their suggestions.
Our biggest complaint, too many people. I guess there are 100,000 beds in the entire resort. Runs were a bit crowded and went bad after just a few hours after being groomed. The shuttle bus to our village was always packed after visiting the commercial centre. The other shuttle buses were like city buses and ours was a short bus. Appropriate but it seemed that most everyone was like us on the short bus, saving money with a tiny room.
We had lots of good food, local and pizza (the uniting food of the world). The best part of skiing so hard during the day, happy hour after wards. No just kidding. I did have a pretty good steak one night. My best steak so far since moving to France. The green coat has been photo-ed again in a different locale so on to a new one.
Now back home and hanging out in Paris. I get the couches on Monday and then I am off to Notre Dame for the Holy week activities. More later....
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