Seasons End

You might think that the weather is a tad unpredictable in the good old Disunited Kingdom, but that does not hold a candle to the Pyrénées.

This winter in the mountains has had lots of rain, wind and sun, but precious little snow. Winter in the mountains and no snow. How weird is that?

Well, it has finally arrived.

The clouds have held back their burden of snow until right to the end of the season. Instead of the usual slush and rocks, our brave troup found a fresh coating of sugary snow, making the slopes almost off-piste instead of the alternative…

Our fellowship was seven; three generations. Let me introduce the players on this stage.

First there is, of course, yours truly:

One of them is me.

Then my beloved, here, as usual, hiding from my intrusive lens behind a passing elf.

Next up, my youngest son, Luke…

…with his elvish sidekick, Marta, you may have noticed her sneaking into a previous photo, as elves are wont.

Luke’s attempts at snowboarding were heroic, although did not always end well.

On the other hand, this was made up for in their culinary skills.

and more than this, their sense of fun…

Here are the remaining three adventurers.

Made up of Lisa…

…the Evil Christian…

…not to mention, our surprise guest, Sienna

Christian achieved his lifetime ambition by turning 180 degrees on a jump. He tells me it was on purpose.

Needless to say, much time was spent inside bars…

Or yodelling

And so it is time to bid farewell to the valley for the last time this season.

It was a good week, a great week, missing only the rest of our little family.

Maybe next year?

Intermission

Film intermissions (remember them?) give you time for a quick pee and a cup of tea, to gather yourself for the second half. We are now on our Pyrénéan intermission, a two week break in the farmhouse between trips skiing or, in my case limping, with friends and family. Except, maybe coffee for me instead of tea and, well, I guess the pees are obligatory.

In between the coffees and pees, we’ve had plenty of opportunity to keep ourselves busy. Not least has been many happy hours (joke) doing paperwork (more about this potential life-changing bureaucracy in a future blog coming to you soon, I hope). Visiting us has been family in the form of Domitille et al helping to return some of my will to live…

Although Louis’ oft smiling face sometimes faltered…

…as it is overwhelmed by Oriane’s glass shattering scream.

To escape further tinnitus, I scooted over to the green green fields of home (well, one of ‘em) to say hi to my granddaughter number two.

Thanks for the appreciative applause.

More importantly, the rugby 6-nations continues to test my patriotism. Do I support Wales, England or France? Next week, the crunch match which always seems to bring out the worst nationalist bigotry in some; England versus Wales.

It does not have to be so. The following proves that peace and beauty can reign when Wales meets England; the Wye valley….

And so, having nearly finished 'gathering’ myself like some long lost flock of hapless sheep, I can now batten down the hatches and mix metaphors in readiness for the approaching hoard.

It’s nearly the end of the ski season, and yet we finally have snow in greater quantities that all the preceding winter months. The outlook is good, the outlook is white. Yay! More photos of white stuff to come!