J'Adore Chamonix

In my last entry, I referred to the Alps, and last week I was in the Alps - a nice little ironic twist of fate! One of my oldest friends is coming to the end of her snowboarding season in Chamonix and after a rather devastating break-up with my boyfriend, my sister and I jumped on a bus to see her for a week of snow, ski and sun...

A bus?!!! Yes, a bus. We don't agree with flying, and buses are cheap! I will not pretend that it's the ideal way to travel, but it can be fun and you see so much more, feel closer to the land you're travelling over. You certainly meet some characters as well, including a tour guide who is definitely going to be the inspiration for my next short film script, and a crazy French man who wanted us to go with him to Alaska and frequently swapped from English to French during sentences just to confuse us! He also wanted my email address, but got the message when I told him I'd conveniently lost my pen...

It took just over 24 hours to reach Chamonix, crossing through Paris, Geneva and then back into France. Having never been anywhere snowy, I was immediately impressed by the mountains gravitas. The air so clear, the light so bright. Chamonix is a bit like a bubble of purity; I can see why so many people stay here for a season and then don't leave... you feel safe, healthy and protected by the vast mountains on all sides. Surely nothing goes wrong here? I didn't witness anything untoward, except of course for the after effects of excessive consumption of alcohol... but that doesn't really count.



I felt a sense of achievement at attempting to ski for the first time, all-be-it on a baby slope, progressing to an off piste blue slope by the end of the day. Iris taught me, bossed me around - making me concentrate, push harder and use my feet instead of my head. I was extremely hungover and uncooperative at first, but as soon as I got the gist, and controlled my erratic left leg, things started to make sense. There really is nothing else like being alone near the top of a slope, surveying the terrain you have to conquer, gliding along with the sun on your back with only the sound of the skis to remind you that you're not flying.

So tempted to do a ski season next year, but I will probably get some professional lessons first though, so I don't have to embarrass myself in front of the three-year-old pros on the baby slopes ever again...