Skiing in the French Alps - Tignes
The Trafalgar Skiers
I’m only just starting to get over my post holiday blues! Skiing at Tignes (pronounced Teen) in France was an amazing week. I didn’t realise how much I was missing sun and blue blue sky….the weather was perfect – almost hot. The air is crisp and clean there…. I didn’t realise how much I was missing that either! But the ‘sun’ novelty dwindled a little once the slopes started to become icy and seriously scary – downhill ice-skating wasn’t included in our daily lessons! Within a day or two, we found ourselves wishing for clouds and ultimately snow. On the 4th day we got lucky and big fluffy balls of white clean snow started to drift on to our favourite slopes. I don’t think we actually got ‘powder’, but the next day we were certainly carving up something…other than ice that is.
Our chalet, Chalet Trafalgar was wonderful – French rustic décor, lots of stone and wood. We had a chalet host (she called herself a maid!) who cooked us breakfast every morning. They’d even offer you tea or coffee in bed to wake you up! We all accepted the offer on the first morning, but it was a bit bizarre having a stranger wonder into your room with a cuppa in hand, while you’re still wondering where you are and what are those bells ringing outside? Bells you ask? We decided to ditch the tea and coffee ‘wakeup’ and rely on the local church bells. At 8am, every morning, they would ‘dong’ 8 times…(for the fist time that day – it wasn’t going all night). About 10 mins later it would start ringing again…as if we had hit a virtual ‘snooze’ button. Then, about 20 minutes later, the bells would just start ringing randomly. At that stage it was really time to get up…..but it was such a great way to wake up everyday….distant church bells in a French ski village…..ahhh……it wouldn’t be as wonderful anywhere else. I don’t think if I changed my alarm clock here in London to ‘chiming bells’ I’d feel quite the same.
After a hard days skiing, we, the Trafalgar Skiers, would all make our way back to the chalet. Some would use the beautiful winding ‘home’ ski run, others would fly down the black run beside it (this was Dean half way thru the week) – I loved the home trail. It’s track meandered through the Les Brevieres valley. It was peaceful, beautiful and almost relaxing – no road noise, no wurring of machinery, no airconditioning motors, no people chatting…..just you and your breathing….and the sounds of snow crunching beneath your skis. Our chalet was only metres away from the bottom of the run, so juggling skis and stocks was a shortlived chore.
Every day we came home to three very ‘desirable pleasures’. Firstly, the relief of taking our industrial strength ski boots off. Secondly, a hot shower, with a monsoon shower head! Finally…home-baked afternoon tea...our chalet host would bake thru the day and would leave her daily creation on the table, along with all the things you’d need to make a beautiful cup of hot tea! Devine! We’d then sit on the couch, chat about the day’s runs; everyday we did something new, all at varying levels….blues, reds…blacks. At about 6.30pm, we’d light the fireplace. Robin was the chief, but I think deep down we all wanted to get in and enjoy that very satisfying feeling of starting the perfect wood fire. The topic of ‘technique’ came up a few times…but we just left it to Robin to take care of each night.
We didn’t watch any TV the entire time we were there. At 8pm every night, we were served canapés and champagne. We didn’t have to move our butts off the couch. Afterward, we’d walk 2 metres to our dining table, where a 3 course meal was served. The food was always brilliant, as was the wine! We’d then move 2 metres, back to the couch, where port, French mountain cheese and chocolate were served! At first, it all felt very decadent, and I continually felt like I should be offering to help in the kitchen. I’m not used to having ‘house staff’. But it’s amazing how quickly you do get used to having someone do all the things you’d prefer not to do on a holiday…planning the meals, doing all the grocery shopping, preparing everything, cooking everything and then cleaning it up! Just as well we skied all day, otherwise I think we’d have put on 6kg, instead of the 3kg we did manage to put on.
Our nights would end early – and that was fine too. No pressure to party all night…we just flopped into our ‘made’ beds and crash out. It wasn’t going to be too long before the bells would start ringing again.
http://ing.smugmug.com/Travel
I’m only just starting to get over my post holiday blues! Skiing at Tignes (pronounced Teen) in France was an amazing week. I didn’t realise how much I was missing sun and blue blue sky….the weather was perfect – almost hot. The air is crisp and clean there…. I didn’t realise how much I was missing that either! But the ‘sun’ novelty dwindled a little once the slopes started to become icy and seriously scary – downhill ice-skating wasn’t included in our daily lessons! Within a day or two, we found ourselves wishing for clouds and ultimately snow. On the 4th day we got lucky and big fluffy balls of white clean snow started to drift on to our favourite slopes. I don’t think we actually got ‘powder’, but the next day we were certainly carving up something…other than ice that is.
Our chalet, Chalet Trafalgar was wonderful – French rustic décor, lots of stone and wood. We had a chalet host (she called herself a maid!) who cooked us breakfast every morning. They’d even offer you tea or coffee in bed to wake you up! We all accepted the offer on the first morning, but it was a bit bizarre having a stranger wonder into your room with a cuppa in hand, while you’re still wondering where you are and what are those bells ringing outside? Bells you ask? We decided to ditch the tea and coffee ‘wakeup’ and rely on the local church bells. At 8am, every morning, they would ‘dong’ 8 times…(for the fist time that day – it wasn’t going all night). About 10 mins later it would start ringing again…as if we had hit a virtual ‘snooze’ button. Then, about 20 minutes later, the bells would just start ringing randomly. At that stage it was really time to get up…..but it was such a great way to wake up everyday….distant church bells in a French ski village…..ahhh……it wouldn’t be as wonderful anywhere else. I don’t think if I changed my alarm clock here in London to ‘chiming bells’ I’d feel quite the same.
After a hard days skiing, we, the Trafalgar Skiers, would all make our way back to the chalet. Some would use the beautiful winding ‘home’ ski run, others would fly down the black run beside it (this was Dean half way thru the week) – I loved the home trail. It’s track meandered through the Les Brevieres valley. It was peaceful, beautiful and almost relaxing – no road noise, no wurring of machinery, no airconditioning motors, no people chatting…..just you and your breathing….and the sounds of snow crunching beneath your skis. Our chalet was only metres away from the bottom of the run, so juggling skis and stocks was a shortlived chore.
Every day we came home to three very ‘desirable pleasures’. Firstly, the relief of taking our industrial strength ski boots off. Secondly, a hot shower, with a monsoon shower head! Finally…home-baked afternoon tea...our chalet host would bake thru the day and would leave her daily creation on the table, along with all the things you’d need to make a beautiful cup of hot tea! Devine! We’d then sit on the couch, chat about the day’s runs; everyday we did something new, all at varying levels….blues, reds…blacks. At about 6.30pm, we’d light the fireplace. Robin was the chief, but I think deep down we all wanted to get in and enjoy that very satisfying feeling of starting the perfect wood fire. The topic of ‘technique’ came up a few times…but we just left it to Robin to take care of each night.
We didn’t watch any TV the entire time we were there. At 8pm every night, we were served canapés and champagne. We didn’t have to move our butts off the couch. Afterward, we’d walk 2 metres to our dining table, where a 3 course meal was served. The food was always brilliant, as was the wine! We’d then move 2 metres, back to the couch, where port, French mountain cheese and chocolate were served! At first, it all felt very decadent, and I continually felt like I should be offering to help in the kitchen. I’m not used to having ‘house staff’. But it’s amazing how quickly you do get used to having someone do all the things you’d prefer not to do on a holiday…planning the meals, doing all the grocery shopping, preparing everything, cooking everything and then cleaning it up! Just as well we skied all day, otherwise I think we’d have put on 6kg, instead of the 3kg we did manage to put on.
Our nights would end early – and that was fine too. No pressure to party all night…we just flopped into our ‘made’ beds and crash out. It wasn’t going to be too long before the bells would start ringing again.
http://ing.smugmug.com/Travel
posted by Dean Robertson @ 10:54 AM
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