This past weekend I had opportunity and delight to jet off to the French Alps in style. As always in France there was a nationwide transportation strike which affected the train we were to take to the mountains. What could we do? It was the last minute. The eleventh hour. Really more like 11:45. We were up a creek. On thin ice. In an unfortunate situation. But then Bertrand, a staff member and the leader of the trip to the mountains swooped in to the rescue. He ordered up what he called, "A magic Bus". It might not have been magic, but it was luxurious. Honestly like something you'd see on an MTV show of pimp my ride or road rules or something. We met up with the bus around 11 pm on Thursday night, bags and ski clothes in hand. When it rolled around the corner there was silence and you could hear everyone gasp slightly. I'm not sure whether everyone was in awe or hoping that they build bridges high enough for this colossus to slide beneath. 2 floors, 5 flat screens, 12 beds, 2 refridgerators and a chauffeur. We decided to ditch the Alps and drive all over France in our mansion on wheels. No we did go skiing and it was good. But the bus, let me tell you. Awesome. Skiing -- alright. Bus -- Yes.
No, I'm joking the bus was as fantastic as I described, but the skiing was even better. You can't imagine unless you've been there. The photos don't really give this extreme, mountainous destination justice. We arrived through the mountains early in the morning and I was awake. A friend and I walked around the small ski village and ordered a coffee and a croissant while the rest of the group continued to sleep on the bus. When everyone arose we found our bed and breakfast where we would stay and geared up (picture the scene from 'A Christmas Story') for the snow. The weather couldn't have been nicer. Blue skies. Few clouds. Weather warm enough to be comfortable, but cold enough for some snow. It was fabulous. We were carried up to the base of the ski area by the Grand Massif Express, a gondola, and then rode a few more chair lifts to rise up to somewhere near the crest of one of the peaks. 360 degrees of beautiful snow-capped mountains. Everywhere you looked seemed like some painting. It was unbelieveable. The skiing conditions were just as prime. Well groomed slopes that descended seemingly-indefinitely and challenging, but do-able trails. Usually with skiing where we've been in Michigan you choose a steep slope that's short or a longer flatter trail. Here the flatter trails when on forever (about 10 minutes actually) and the steep slopes seemed like they'd never end. It was really amazing and I would strongly recommend to every able body out there to do some skiing in the Alps...now. go.
Every night we returned sore and tired and didn't have much difficulty finding our dreams. We slept well. And after returning I slept even more. My body was aching. My whole face was, and still is, congested. I have a cold. Yesterday I felt miserable. I'm not able to soar down a mountain ripping by the beginners and slow pokes (just kidding Dad). But seriously the fastest I can go now is a jogging pace. Jacques thinks that going up a mountain only to go all the way back down and then repeat is pointless. Well I would say that the goggle sunburn on my face and the weakened condition of my body can only show that I had one of the best weekends ever just going up and down a mountain.
No comments:
Post a Comment