Holiday Snaps

Well, I'm back from the Alps, and I'm sorry for not giving you the regular updates as I had promised to do. Unfortunately the hotel I was staying in, although very well-appointed in most of its facilities, didn't have an internet point for some reason. This meant that in order to get a connection I had to trudge half a mile up the hill, in the snow, and wait in line for access to what was seemingly the only connection in the village. Believe me, when you've been out on the slopes all day and your legs are aching and rattling like a supermarket trolley, and when you've finally removed your ski boots and flopped heavily onto the comfortable sofas of the hotel for a few après-ski drinks, the LAST thing you want to do is trudge up the hill in the snow. All you really want to do at that point is to sink into a hot bath with a glass of whisky balanced carefully on the edge.

So I have neglected you, gentle reader. But it was all in a good cause – the skiing was fabulous, although not all that challenging. Cervinia (Italy) is not actually a very challenging resort – there are only three black runs and the reds are really only what the French would call blue (the grading of the pistes is always only appropriate for each particular resort), so we weren't exactly pushed very hard. We did do some tough runs though – we went so high at one point that we were able to look into Switzerland, and the temperature up there was sometimes as low as minus 20 degrees Celsius. The sunshine was glorious though, but at those altitudes (circa 11,000 feet) it's easy to get burned. My nose is rather red as a result.

However, being challenged is not always welcome (particularly at my time of life) and the fact that most of what we did was fairly easy, meant at least that I could spend time improving my technique and improving my speed. This I did, and I skied better and faster than I've ever done before. I "crossed the Rubicon" in terms of style, and managed to acquire that deliciously elegant swagger that you witness in those infuriating people hurtling down the slopes who were clearly born to the practice. The problem about coming down the more challenging pistes is that the opportunity to practise style is not there – it's more about getting down the mountain in the best way one can; elegantly or not. But fear not, gentle reader – I only had one fall all week, and it wasn't that spectacular either, so no broken bones or even bruises for yours truly. I've been very pleased with my efforts this week and if I had the money (or the time), I'd go back quickly so that I could improve even more.

I tried hard with my Italian too. I find that the Italians are more polite than the French, and will encourage you to keep going and will reply to you in Italian, rather than lapsing into English at the slightest detection of a less than perfect accent. So, I was able to make my purchases, book restaurant tables, ask for directions etc, and managed to understand the responses too. But then, sitting on chair-lifts going up to the next run, you often find yourself accompanied by a pair of native speakers babbling away to each other without seemingly drawing breath or even listening to each other, and then all understanding becomes lost – so there's still a way to go for me yet.

And now, back to work. I'm a bit tired to be honest – yesterday was a long day because we had to get up at 5:00 a.m. to get to the airport, then we were delayed by a blizzard and then had to wait even further while they de-iced the wings of the plane before take-off. Therefore, my approach to work today is one of a gentle attack, rather than an exuberant explosion of energy – so you'll have to forgive me. The TV is tempting me to switch it on too – coverage of the winter Olympics beckons. On the other hand, why would I want to watch someone else coming down a mountain with a lot more speed and grace than I could ever manage?

Oh well, maybe I could dream.....