A consultant checked Diane’s hip before pronouncing that all was well. She is still not allowed to walk on it but the healing process appears to be going in the right direction. I figured that since she could not get out and about wherever we were, that we might as well go to a ski area. One of the many joys of travelling with Baloo is that we can follow the resorts with good snow conditions. At the end of this season the situation was very mixed. Some areas even had to close early. The best conditions appeared to be at La Plagne in the Savoie area of the French Alps. We have not been there for over ten years and so, two days later, we arrived.
The snow was not great. South facing slopes were bare and the lower runs were slush and mud. I don’t think there had been any fresh snow for a couple of weeks. Still, any skiing is better than no skiing and I enjoyed myself. Diane could sit out in the sun during the day. The parking area for motor homes is right next to one of the runs. You can watch skiers and snowboarders going past with varying degrees of competence. You can watch ski instructors patiently coaxing the aspirants following like a line of ducks. There are people walking or plodding in snow shoes. People on sledges, mostly younger people. Paragliders dot the air with their colourful canopies. On a pleasant sunny day it can all get very busy.
La Plagne is very popular with the British. You can spot groups of Brits at the lift queues. Everyone else converges on chairs in a rather haphazard fashion. Brits, however, have a great cultural background in orderly queues. They like to stand in well organised lines. Queue jumping is considered a moral sin up there with adultery and taking the last biscuit in the packet. On a six person lift, the Brits will organise themselves into neat rows of acquaintances to discuss the weather while they wait. Rows of five people, four, three, even just two at times. This is great for me. I can slip down the side to the front of the queue and grab one of the unoccupied spaces. This is not queue jumping, I am in a seat that was otherwise going to be empty. But still, I am often regarded as a queue jumper. I have intruded into their group and their carefully reserved place in the queue. There are glaring scowls and muttered tutting sounds. I pretend to be foreign and either ignore them or give my best impression of a French “boof” while shrugging my shoulders. Occasionally, I will move up to the gate of a six seat lift and the four Brits will just stand still. The gate opens, I sit down on my own, they take the next chair. Preferring to wait, to queue a bit longer, rather than share a chair with someone outside of their group.
Colin, from Scotland, was camped in a motorhome just opposite us. He was on his own and we ended up skiing together. Colin is a much better skier than me. This was fine for me. I had to really improve my game to keep up. He was good company as well. We skied on several days and then the snow came. The area really needed some new snow. Two days later everything was looking much whiter and less muddy. A big improvement. The morning was dull and overcast. Snow was in the air and visibility was poor but we thought we would have a look anyhow. Great decision. At the top of the main lift we popped out above the cloud. Brilliant sunshine and fresh snow. Big vistas and cloud filled valleys. We had a terrific day bouncing around in the soft snow and were both pretty shattered by the end.
This time of year the fresh snow never lasts for long and within a few days it was thinning. Bare patches starting to show through again. Colin went off to the airport to collect his daughter and I caught Covid. I had been avoiding travelling in gondolas preferring the chairlifts where you can sit in the fresh air. However, there are a couple of areas that can only be accessed by gondola. One, called “Le Glacier”, is served by tiny little bubbles that six people can squeeze into. Covid capsules as I came to think of them. No windows to open, not even any air vents. I only used them four times, but that was enough.
Obviously Diane developed symptoms a day later and so we isolated ourselves for a few days. Each of us had a mild temperature and a day when we preferred to lie on the bed. Fortunately, neither of us got very poorly. Colin came back, skied with his daughter for a few days and then left to go home. We waved through the window. Eventually we tested negative by which time the snow was all but hopeless for skiing so we gave up on La Plagne and set off for a short tour of the Maritime Alps.