Scary Dives

Three washloads and an expensive grocery shop later, we've finally settled back into our little flat. To be concise: we had fun. There was no extra snowfall throughout our trip, but we owe a great skiing experience to the dozens of wee French men in their huge monstertruck snowploughs. They groomed the slopes brilliantly :-) Merci!

Although we were a bit wary of the whole "British Package Holiday" experience, we found ourselves surrounded not by rowdy Brittons, but hundreds of loudmouthing Belgian students. All my attempts to depict the Flemish to Fi as sophisticated cosmopolitans went straight out the window *grin*. For which thanks, people! ;-)

The first night of our arrival, the Fluff got a wee bit overexcited with anticipation of our first day of skiing. Which is probably why I came out of the bathtub that evening, to find her all geared up strapped into my skiboots and ski's pretending to swoosh down the slopes of our very own room. I have pictures. But as I have a desire to make it through the day alive, I won't post them *grin*.
The rest of the week evolved pretty much as any holiday week would. As always, I have failed to avoid the "beard-tan" phenomenon, due to my humongous ski-helmet and goggles. I have pictures. I won't post them.

Although I've made brilliant improvements in conquering my fear of ice, I am now convinced that being terrified of the whole flying experience is justified and plain common sense. Upon our descent into Glasgow Airport, our pilot miscalculated the runway-course due to heavy winds, and we were forced into a VERY last minute evasive manoevre. Engines roaring to pull the heavy Boeing back upwards away from the nearing runway, even the big bloke next to me went pasty pale, bareknuckledly gripping on to his seat. *shudders*.

Either way, we're back in Bridge now, safe and sound, although I will most likely have to go in hiding for a week or two until the beard-tan has disappeared. ;-)