U.K, Paris and Chamonix (where the mountain wins...again!)

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Hey there gang,
Well here I am in chamnix and it seems we have lived a lifetime since the last blog, so perhaps the best place is to begin at the end and work from there.

So I find myself here in Chamonix, the famous ski town in the French Alps bordering France and Italy... and it's a cool place ! - but not literally, Wal and i think it might be the warmest place we've been since Hawaii which for me is very welcome. Some may say it's practically tropical here at the 5 degree mark ( mental note must reduce clothing to include only TWO layers of thermals prior to applying enormous fur lined jacket) but as you can imagine the weather is not so great if you're searching for good snow. I know since my last skiing adventure you're all wanting to know how I fared on the slopes after my colourful experiences in Tahoe. Before I beging, I must apologise, whilst I received many welcome notes from the girls saying how funny they found my account of learning to ski, it would appear that for the boys the detailed account of my experience cut a little close to the bone and a few complaints were sent in, (well actually only one from Ben C...!) saying how difficult it was as a guy to read about my experiences- apologies, but here's the thing dear readers, since making public the very difficult process of learning how to ski from your partner (or from Wal's point of view, teaching your partner who likes to think she knows everything) it would seem that many people will warn against teaching their partner to ski but very few are willing to actually warn you PRIOR to undertaking the task- in fact it's almost like a secret knowledge club, especially for the boys who have suffered immensely at trying to teach their girlfiends to ski, whereby initiation can only come if the applicant has experienced hysterical tears, been yelled at, sworn at, given the silent treatment (preferably all in the same chair lift ride for instant admission to the club) and been made basically miserable for the duration of the experience. Once you start talking openly about it apparently there are very few, if any, success stories and 99.9% of the people we surveyed AFTER our experience would warn aagainst ever undertaking the activity. hhhmmmm... But we were positive, especially, after we felt I had learnt to ski so after arriving in Chamonix after a hair raising ride from the airport (Driver: "but sir I'm going 40 miles per hour, zat is ze limit" Wal: "we udnerstand that but you are going around hair pin bends buddy!" ) we set off for the mountain - we were told Brevant was a good compromise with easy and difficult runs with an amazing view. Noice. Easy. Cool. So we set off a happy ski couple .The trip up to the resort is quite full on, a bus ride, then a chair lift with the most amazing view and then another chair lift and volia! You arrive at the most AMAZING view i have ever seen with clouds setting in halfway down the mountain they are THAT high. Beautiful, we thought so we set off easily down the cat track and I couldn't ge over how fabulous it all was...well that was for the first 30 seconds. The snow was hard packed, it was fast and uh oh...we had accidentally taken a black run. So Mr Wallace went down first and I, not even close to being mentally prepared for anything above a green easy run just went into complete melt down. There was no yelling, no screaming, just me, on the mountain, trembling, crying and shaking (in my head I was cursing becasue I could feel all of my make up coming off, the tears were fogging up the goggles and I knew I would have to catch the bus back if I made it off the mountain alive looking a complete mess - although girls I found a fabulous mascara which withstands A LOT of crying so will pass on the name in the next blog) and poor Wal was at the bottom of the mountain looking up and gently trying to coax me to turn, but I am telling you know I was just frozen with fear and could not move. In the end Mr Wallace took off his skiis and hiked up the mountain and talked me down, I am not joking you, inch by inch and slid and stepped the whole way down on one edge of my skis - he was by all accounts completely amazing and whilst a slightly dramatic statement, probably saved my life because without him I'd still be on the mountain- thank you Wal! So, as you can imagine, that was me done, let me tell you! I bade Wal farewell and told him I was finished with skiing for the entire holiday and headed back to the resort, sold my lift ticket and returned the skis. Phew. And that was when the real fun started...since then I have been immersing myself in Apres ski lifestyle full time and let me tell you...I am very busy! There is a gym down the road which I have visited (not sure if it's all the croissants or the altitude but running is very hard here!) I've been writing postcards, doing hot chocolate, I have a hair appointment today which I will only just make becasue of my super busy schedule and have some serious shopping to do - in fact dear readers if the truth be known, even if I wanted to I don't actually have any time to ski! But perhaps the previous few days before out arrival had spoilt me, as we had spent time with my grandma and then went to Paris for 4 days and I am so torn...not sure if I love Paris or NYC more so may need to visit them numerous more times just to check!
To prepare for Paris and to recover from NYC we spent 3.5 days with my amazing Grandma and her fab partner Ron. They live down the South of the U.K on the coast so they very kindly picked us up from Heathrow and drove us down and looked after us so well. It was a bit unfortunate that after all of our travelling the only time were were ever hit with jet lag was when we got to Grandma's. We found ourselves waking up at 2am and hanging out until 6am when we would finalyl drift back until around 11am - terrible guests we were...poor Grandma and Ron would be waiting to start their day and it was like having two teenagers in the house sleeping in until all hours... but they were fabulous about it and we still managed to go cruising in the car to check out the local hood and have some fabulous nights with them eating and drinking. We had Valentines day there and Grandma and Ron had organised for us to go to a super little place called le Mamas in town and the meal was amazing and rivalled Little Italy in NYC which , until then, I wasn't sure was possible...and then went back to meet Grandma and Ron for a drink afterwards with their friends... let me tell you, these guys know how to party... there's always room for a little brandy before bed with those guys! Wal also survived a grilling from Grandma's sisters - they have tea every Wednesday so we went along and it was great to see everyone again for me, and for Wal he survived the interrogation rather well - I'm heading back there for a week with Grandma and Ron on my own while Wal heads to Chile so I'll keep everyone posted as to how he scored with the Great-Aunts after the next Wednesday tea I go to!
So Paris was amazing, and I must thank Grandma and Ron for being so nice about having to get us to the local airport at 6am... ron was also extra nice after he had to turn around and come back after I realised I wasn't carrying what I thought was Wal's jacket, but that I had mistakenly picked up Ron's jacket out of the car. That was a golden blonde moment but Ron was still smiling when he arrived back at the airport 20 minutes later to pick it up from me!!!Sorry Ron! Mental note - will be colour tagging all of my luggage & jackets booking later flights to avoid such a moment in the future.
But that was the only drama and we made it to Paris and we had an absolute ball! We stayed in a hotel called "les sans Collttes" and we would recommend that anyone stay there who heads to gai Paris! Les Sans culottes is a coffee place by day and famous restaurant by night in the Bastille district. The hotel part is very simple and very cheap. When you arrive it's hard not to want to walk straight back out and call the closest holiday Inn. There is no lift, so you have to lug you luggage up the stairs - which for a weekend is ok, but rememebr we are travelling everywhere so each suitcase weighs about 20kg. When you get into the room, it's small, dingy and has a slight air of stale cigarette smoke. All I could think was "get me outta here" when we arrived, but Mum had recommended it and had warned me this is the thought process you go through but you end up loving it! The hotel is actually on a strip full of night clubs and our first night was spent listening to drunken french people hanging out until 4 or 5am, (I think Wal did mention taking mum off the christmas card list a few times that night) but finally made it to sleep at some point. Wal was a bit sick so I had a fabulous time cruising the local area, picking up bits and peices and just hanging tuff with Wal while he got better. I was speaking heaps of French which had stayed with me since school - I would find myself in conversations which would start simple and turn very complex, at times i wasn't sure if I was being given directions to where I wanted to go or being told my attempt to adopt French dress sense was embarrassing, but whatever they were telling me i made it around and managed to find what I needed. When Wal got better we had such a ball cruising around the city. Paris has a great system where you pay about $7 a day to rent bikes - really simple system where you swipe your credit card and buy a pass. You then keep this pass with you for as long as you have paid for (one day or seven days)and it has a number on it which allows you to pick up and return a bike as many times as you want from the many bike stations scattered around the city. the best thing is Paris is designed for bike riding, albeit a hair raising! and most roads have bike lanes and all have special bike lane traffic light!- a bit scary sometimes as often they are bus and bike lanes which means you can be cruising along happily, look to your left and find a bus wing mirror about 2 cm from your face...but it's funny, no matter how scary it got there's always a feeling when you're on holiday that it's all going to be ok, so I think I spent the whole time gigling and laughing on the bike ("giggle, giggle, how hilarious that bus just tried to knock me off the bike" "giggle giggle, how hilarious the basket and the chain cover have just fallen off the bike giggle giggle" mental note to all - always check your bike including the sturdiness of the basket and chain cover before taking it from the bike station!) The best day we had was riding all the way to the Eiffel tower and back. the Eiffel tower was an expereince elf and whilst it was a must do, it's actually on our must not do again list - it's the only tourist attraction I know where you have to queue to get in AND queue to get down from! But the bike rides around the city are fabulous and Wal and I treasured the time we had soaking up the atmosphere and feeling French and to be honest the only touristy things we did were go the tower and go on a boat trip on the Seine, after that it was much like New York, eating in fabulous places (Les Sans Culottes have the best food EVER - would totally recommend anything they have but will make a special mention of the goats cheese tart and the special baked garlic crusted Camambert with pest- both are entrees but can be had as a meal and both are just DIVINE!), people watching and just cruising around the area around our hotel which was so amazing, trying to compare it, it was like paddington with little cobbled streets and heaps of style, had the funk of Bondi and the kind of diveristy offered up by Newtown - but this doesn't really do it justice so I recommend you all just go there! The best thing is the hotel is only 61 Euro a night and includes breakfast of croissants, jam and baguets and their superb coffee. none of the staff speak much English so it's good to have someone who can at least book the hotel for you...but happy to help there if anyone is keen to go! The last thing I'll mention is the hot chocolates - Paris does hot chocolates like nowhere else! they have the thick and luscious consistency of a drink that can only be full of fat and calories and let me tell you they are to die for - the kind of drink that has made Max Brunner famous in Oz but the kind that is considered normal in any coffee shop in Paris... so my advice is take your walking/riding shoes, cycle Paris, avoid the tourist atractions and eat and drink your way to paradise! Speaking of eating and drinking, I better dash off to get to the gym - am in altitude training to recover from the gluttony expereinced in Paris...but it was all worth it!

Take care all, missing you!
G x

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