Lost in Les Hooches

Today, whilst boarding, I took a wrong turn. Then another wrong turn. Like Alice down the rabbit hole, I carried on off piste following some snowboard tracks and footprints. Then both sets of tracks stopped, where I realised the boarding tracks went DOWN, but the footprints were going UP. I had followed the tracks of another guy who realised he was miles off course, and unlike him could not easily climb the slope - the snow was too deep and thick.

So I had to continue downwards, onto some tram tracks and then quickly onto a small path which seemed to lead to nowhere... after an hour, the path gained some level of use (footprints, ski tracks and even a couple of cigerette butts). Pleased with my dectective powers I continued down the track and finally after just over two hours effort I got into a town. Remembering the proximity of the slopes to the Italian border, I was relieved to discover the inhabitants spoke French, and that by some learning miracle, so did I. I quickly found a phone, let those waiting for me for lunch know about my exhurstion and temporary absence, and found a tram which took me all the way back up the mountain.

I really just wanted to go home at this point, but the quickest way home was up the tram and down the mountain. Finding the conditions less icy than before, I still put in a full afternoons boarding and took away the pain from icy falls (the snow is crap here - sigh) and mass hiking with a couple of fine choc 'o' rums. A tiring but interesting day in all. Bit dis-illusioned with the boarding part of the holiday, the naff conditions and early starts are just putting me in a foul mood. May just change the holiday into a drinking binge and forget the hard effort, after all, I AM on hoilday :)