Driving home from Dumfries

After some negotiation the night before, we were up at 6.30, which hurt, but we managed to get on the road by 7, grabbing a cuppa downstairs in the hotel on the way.

Thankfully, the weather was much more pleasant today, and the road back to the motorway was long, but easy. We drove until Tebay services, arriving at 9am, and the breakfast there was more than worth the wait for sustenance.

We made a short stop at a services, but pushed on, munching on our Tebay chocolate ginger biscuits, and were home by 2pm.

Excursion to Doune, and leaving for Dumfries

This morning, most of the divers had a not particularly early start. The RHIB was going to pick them up from the beach, so that they could load the bulk of the luggage, and leave it in Susie's van in Mallaig.

I helped them carry bags down to the beach, and ran back to the Lodge's 4WD when Ben realised he'd left an empty bag in it. It was a completely still but grey morning, and the water of the loch was glassy.

I watched the overloaded RHIB motor away from the beach, and then walked back into the Lodge. I had a chat with Cori, and passed on a message from Ben to remind her to book a ferry. I left my packed bags in the living room so the bedrooms could be cleaned for the next cohort, made a sandwich for my day out, and set off walking to Doune.

My route was via a sealed road, so it wasn't hard going, but there were enough hills that I had to work for it. After the flatness of Inverie, the road climbed, past a small loch, and then it was up and down, and winding round, for nearly three miles. I finally saw the sign down to Doune ('Doune here'), and set off down the steep and muddy path.

Doune was very small, but very charming. There were no signposted buildings at all, but apparently there is a restaurant and a bunkhouse there too. I sat at a picnic bench and ate my sandwiches, watching the birds.

My feet and legs were quite sore, but I climbed back to the sealed road, and made good time back to Inverie, stopping at the facilities on the wharf. I kept on to the Lodge, had a bit of a sit-down, collected my bags, and walked back to the wharf to catch my ferry. I ended up cutting the time a little fine, but the boat was arriving as I walked towards it.

A lot of people got off the ferry, and a lot of cars parked on the wharf to meet them, but the boat going back to Mallaig was almost empty. I had a chat to one of the skippers, and then we set off.

The journey was once again pleasant, and we arrived in Mallaig, having to step over another ferry that was loading up. Christian wasn't there yet, so I walked to the road, and he drove past me and went into the ferry terminal. He changed, I got in the car, and we set off on the journey south.

The drive to Fort William was nice enough. The traffic in Fort William was again weirdly busy, and I was particularly impressed by the mountains ringing the town. One of them is Ben Nevis. Just huge.

We drove further south alongside Loch Eil for a long time, and then over the bridge at Ballachulish, through Crianlarich, and then alongside the neverending Loch Lomond.

We stopped for dinner at the Loch Lomond Arms in Luss. There was a wedding going on, but the restaurant was open to the public. We had some very tasty haggis, neeps, and tatties (which took a little longer than we intended), but got back on the road, had a bit of a detour through Glasgow, and then onto the M74.

It wasn't long before we exited towards Dumfries to stop for the night. It seemed to take ages. It was late and dark and wet, and even when we found civilisation, we seemed to drive for ages to the Holiday Inn in the south of the city.

It was so full that there were no legitimate places to park the car, but we improvised. Still, it was warm and dry, and Christian had used his points to get an executive room on the ground floor. It was nice, but a bit tired.

We had showers, and went to bed at about 11pm.

Excursion to Folach falls and Mam Li

I had breakfast with the divers at about 8am, and then they headed off for the day. I was ready soon after, and walked into Inverie to begin my adventure. I began by buying supplies of crisps and chocolate to go with my sandwiches and camelbak water.

I then went to the ranger's office to check my thinking on attempting to walk to Mam Li today, and whether I'd get through a river crossing tomorrow on the Airor Circuit. She thought it would be OK.

I set off on my way at about 10.30, but saw that the RHIB hadn't yet left the wharf. So I walked out and offered my help to load, and zipped May into her drysuit. I took some amusing photos as they left, and some dramatic ones as they disappeared again a backdrop of mountain.

I turned my steps away from the loch, and headed up the hill to the left of Inverie. A couple cycling overtook me, but then the hill got too much for the woman, and she got off to walk. We had a quick chat about the bleeding heart flowers.

They kept on, and I kept on. The terrain flattened out, and the walking was very pleasant. Before long, I turned right at the Folach Gate, and the path went downhill and started to get a big wet. Before long, I was following a creek, and before much longer, I was at the bridge.

The ranger had warned me that there were trackers out for the stags, and I asked them if I was going to be in their way. They said no, and helped to point me on my way. I got to the far side of the bridge, and walked past a couple putting gaiters on. It was only when they spoke to me that I realised they were the same couple who'd been cycling.

They were heading up Meall Coire, or perhaps Beinn na Caillich (I didn't catch the name they were calling it), and we were heading in the same direction for a short time. The ground on the other side of the bridge was hopelessly boggy, and I began to wish I had brought gaiters with me after all.

They pointed me in the direction of the falls, and headed up the hill. I followed the creek upwards. The falls were nice, but not spectactular. I stopped to have some food here.

I continued up the hill, finding it necessary to start looking at the OS map to ensure I was still on the path. There was a stepping stones crossing of the river that I struggled with a little, but I got across. The path got less and less well defined.

I was determined to get to Mam Li proper and be able to see over the edge into Loch Hourn. So I kept walking up the hill, making sure periodically that I was on the right side of the river.

After a while, I lost the path altogether as the ground started to climb, and started losing my feet in boggy holes. Still that view over the top eluded me. I kept doggedly on, and it got really quite steep. Then I came upon a small loch. That wasn't part of the plan. I sat for a rest, and got the OS map out again, and had my sandwich.

It became apparent at this point that I'd been wading on beyond the path, and that the ranger's brochure lied - you can't see over the edge to Loch Hourn. It was disappointing, but it was getting late, and I didn't want to get lost in the dark - especially as I hadn't let the divers know exactly where I was going.

So I headed downhill again. Knowing that there was no path, and being able to see where I needed to get to, made the descent much easier. I followed the river again for a time, crossed the stepping stones, went past the falls, and over the boggy path to the bridge. At the bridge I sat and had another short break.

From there, the walk back to Inverie was easy. It felt long, but much of it was downhill. I got back to the Lodge at about 5.30. The divers were not yet back. My fitbit told me that I had done over 38,000 steps or 26 miles. It certainly felt like it. My feet and legs were pretty sore and tired.

The divers came back, sporting a bag of freshly gathered scallops. Neil spent ages cleaning and preparing them. He and May made a delicious starter with the scallops, and Christian and others made a main meal of smoked salmon and pasta. The whole thing was lovely.

Afterwards, I washed up and we relaxed. The others went to the pub, but Christian and I gave it a miss. Before bed, we did as much packing as we could. It wasn't a late night.

Short walks around Inverie and curry

The divers were up and off before I got up this morning, so without anyone around to guide me on what was what, I had some breakfast, got ready to go outside, and took myself down to the ranger's office to get some maps.

The shop was full of interesting crafts and maps and histories, and venison, but no one in evidence when I wanted to actually buy the maps. I finally found someone to give some money to, and started on the 'Knoydart in a Knutshell' walk, which was due to take around two hours.

I headed up the hill, past A-frame houses, and logging operations and cleared forest. I turned right, but before long the path was closed. So I went back the way I came, went along the bottom and back up the path I was supposed to come down. I ran into the tape from the other direction, and picked up the path from where I should have been. It felt like rainforest here.

I continued back towards the lodge, but kept on up the hill towards the White Gate, where I turned right through the gate, and downhill following the stream through dense woods and . It was muddy but beautiful. After a while, the path widened and straightened out and went past the old sawmill.

At the bottom, I turned left and went past the Lodge and kept going past the bunkhouse to the bridge. I didn't read the instructions on the leaflet properly, and so immediately set off beside the river through the grass. The landscape was different here - like meadows, gentle and beautiful.

I followed the path around, getting wet trouser cuffs, fought through some gorse, and made friends with a horse. After a short dip to the water where some boats were moored, the path came out on the main beach. It was fine silvery sand, with lots of seaweed and driftwood on it. There was a camping ground alongside, and an amenities block with grass growing on its roof.

At the end of the beach, I walked up the lane beside Inverie House, and back into the garden behind the Lodge. I had some lunch and waited for the divers to get back. They got back fairly early (apart from Susie, Mark, and Colin, who'd gone to get fills for the cylinders), and we had a laid-back afternoon.

Christian had a shower, and then we went on a short walk retracing my steps that day, and we discovered the stags beyond the bridge. It was incredible to see such big beautiful animals with very little fear. We carried on around the meadow to the beach, intending to check out the wildlife hide. In the end, it was really only a crawl space, and it wasn't the right time for otters or much other wildlife. We watched some birds, and took some photos before heading back again.

Back at the Lodge, I did some cross-stitch, and Ben and others made some curry. The cylinder fillers came back, and we sat down to a truly delicious collection of curries. Mmmm.

We didn't have a particularly late night.

London to Glasgow to Fort William to Mallaig to Inverie

I had stayed in London, near Euston, the night before, after having met up with the lovely Rach. So my alarm went off at 4.30 (ouch), and I got myself up and out the door and across the road to the station. I had made myself flapjacks, and so just needed to grab a cup of tea (thankfully two shops were already open) and I was ready to board my 5.30 train.

As seems the norm for me, there was someone sitting in my seat, but it was facing backwards, despite my specific request for a forward facing seat. We agreed that I would sit opposite, but that she would move if someone else came along. No one else did.

The journey to Glasgow was fairly uninteresting, and I had to fight to stop feeling sick in the stupid pendolino train. We pulled into Glasgow on time, and I began by setting off in search of Sauchiehall St, and the Waterstone's where I'd ordered an OS map of Knoydart (all the while keeping an eye out for Queen St station).

I headed east on Gordon St, immediately appreciating the enormous stone buildings and shop fronts, and then north on Buchanan (the mall), passing Queen St on the way. (Damn, I could have made the change in 20 minutes had I got the later train.) I then headed west on Sauchiehall St, got some cash out (forgot I'd be getting Scottish pounds), found Waterstone's, got my map, and kept walking west to Douglas St, and then walked south down the hill to the river. There were some very interesting architectural oddities on this route.

I walked along the river for a while, and then back to Buchanan St. Claire had recommended going into Princes Square shopping centre, and so I did. It was very posh, with polished wood and shiny railings. I didn't stay long.

I walked the short distance north to Queen St station, and got some lunch in Sainsbury's just outside. I was early, and the platform hadn't been called. I spoke to Steve on the phone, then got a confusing message on the board for a Fort William train, but not a Mallaig. I asked someone, and they said that Fort William to Mallaig leg had been cancelled, and that a bus replacement service would run to Mallaig from Fort William. Great. That was going to be the best part of the journey.

I boarded the train, and found my seat, despite a horribly confusing system of Fs and Bs after seat numbers, meaning forwards and backwards, opposite a nice young man. The journey was slow, but very scenic in places. I ate my lunch, and bought a cup of tea en route. The train split at Crianlarich. The conductor made it known that the train to Mallaig was cancelled because of a section of track washed away in the big rains two days previously (which Christian had told me about). I felt less annoyed at the inconvenience.

At Fort William, which looked a lot more interesting than I expected it to, with huge mountains ringing the town, we were ferried to two coaches (and I risked stopping to buy some water on the way), and seated without much fuss. We left quickly, and got onto the road, through some unexpectedly busy traffic. I got the front seat, as most people got off at the first few stops to Banavie. The journey was nice, but nowhere near as nice as the rail line would have been. I took some photos out the window.

We got to Mallaig slightly ahead of schedule, and I found the office for the Knoydart ferry and bought my ticket, and used the toilet. I went down to the dock and the boat, and they helped me on board, asking whether I was Angela. I sat on a bench next to some Dutch/Scandinavian people, and the boat, after waiting for a larger ferry to pass in front, began the half hour journey to Inverie.

The water was fairly flat, and the journey was picturesque. Before long, we pulled in to the wharf at Inverie, and I saw Christian waiting for me. We disembarked, and ambled along the beautiful shore to the Old Forge. The divers were finishing their post-dive beers.

We had a dinner booking at the pub, and so had a quick visit to the lodge before heading back for food. The lodge was big and comfortable, and was a slightly longer walk from the pub than I expected.

Back at the pub, Christian and I ordered scallops for a starter, but they didn't have any. So we had langoustine instead. They were nice, but a real faff to get into. I had mussels for main, and Christian had beef. The mussels were delicious, and the biggest and fattest I'd ever seen. As tempting as the desserts were, we gave them a miss. For an out-of-the-way pub, it has an extremely gourmet outlook.

Christian was very tired, and so we said our goodbyes and headed back to the lodge and to bed. It was about 9.30.

Luxe to Wycombe, via Paris (accidentally)

We didn't get up terribly early (well, I was the last up), but were packed and ready to go at about 8.30. We had a bit of breakfast, and said goodbye to Annie and Dave. It's a lovely place, and I wouldn't be sorry to spend more time there.

We made good progress on the road, stopping appropriately once again. Christian missed an exit, and so we ended up going via Paris. The thought was a bit terrifying, and we did drive along the Seine for a while, but in the end, the traffic wasn't bad, and we didn't lose very much time at all. Paris to Calais was mostly deserted. It was a bit eerie.

We got to Calais earlier than we needed to, and got a spot on an earlier train. I called Rose to say that we'd collect Casper that night instead of the next day.

We had a brief visit into the services - Christian got some fast food - and then we were called quite soon to queue for the train. It took a while (we were very lucky because there were strikes and blockades either side of this day), but we finally drove on to the train. This time we drove on to the top deck of the train, and right up the front. It was a quick and drama-free journey, and driving off at the other end was ridiculously quick and easy.

We soon hit traffic problems, though. Much of the M25 was broken, and so we came off the M20 early, joined the M2 in very slow traffic and went under the Dartford tunnel, and then went the other way around the M25.

We got to Rose's within the time we'd told her, and picked up Casper, and then home to Wycombe.

Hendaye to Bordeaux to Luxe

We were up pretty early to finish the packing, and to clean out the van. We had booked an inspection sometime after 10, and so had time to get everything done. I wasn't at all happy with how clean we'd managed to make the van, but it was the best we could do with the materials to hand.

The same man who'd fixed our fridge problem came to check on everything, and he didn't pay much attention at all to how clean it was. Oh well, thank goodness.

The car was packed, and we were ready to go. Dave and Annie had headed off early to get the house ready for us, and so we said goodbye to Paul and Sue and got on the road.

The journey was fairly unremarkable, and fairly similar to the way down in terms of where the traffic was. After a few peages, and a quick stop, we headed into Bordeaux for some lunch and a small explore. Christian took us on the scenic route into the city, which was very interesting. The outskirts were university areas with student accommodation, but as we got closer to the centre of the city, there were a lot of beautiful old one-storey stone houses. The roads were narrow, and there were lots of traffic lights. We got a car park in a fairly major road, and set off walking towards the cathedral, as Paul had recommended that area for restaurants.

I got a call from Steve at this point, but we wandered to the cathedral, which was closed at this time of day, and took some photos. There was a separate tower to the cathedral, and we couldn't really understand why this was. We were quite near the town hall, and so there were a few weddings going on.

We decided to eat at one of the fairly posh looking restaurants off the square (Le Cafe Francais), and took seats at a nice table. Vicki and I ordered assortiments of entrees (ham, pate, and something else), and Christian ordered a seafood salad. The salad was enormous, but he got through it. Vicki's and my plates were just the right size, and it was delicious. Vicki very kindly offered to buy us lunch as a thank you. It was a nice meal.

After lunch, we went to have a look in the cathedral as it was now open. It was typical of most French cathedrals - large, beautiful, with stunning glass. We walked on to the tower next to it, and found out that it was a bell tower (Tour Pey-Berland). It was kept separate from the cathedral to avoid the vibrations of the bells damaging the cathedral, and strangely, didn't house any bells until 350 years after the tower's construction was completed.

We got back on the road, and missed a turn or two, and so saw a little more of Bordeaux than we expected to. We did a drive by the Opera House, and then all of a sudden we were at the river, and everything got very pretty and very grand. The city certainly deserves another visit.

There was a lot of driving, and a stop to see if we could buy a gift of some description for Annie and Dave (we failed), and were soon turning off to plunge into the countryside to find Dave and Annie's house in Luxe. The countryside was rustic in the same way St Cirq was. We followed Dave's directions, but found ourselves driving up the wrong driveway. We called to get instruction, and were set straight - we were only a few doors down from their house. We drove up, parked, and took in the house and surroundings. The house was huge, and very well fitted out. We took our things up to our rooms, and came back down to explore. I prowled around the garden investigating all of the interesting looking plants. Annie had done a very good job, and was very knowledgeable about them.

She had an enormous veggie patch on a higher level with all sorts of amazing things growing. We sat down in the shade, and were presented with a drink and some snacks. Dave and I had a conversation about French wine - helping me understand it a bit better. We were introduced to pineau, and I found the white delicious, and the red not much less so. Dinner was set out before long, which was a delicious selection of cold meat, salads, and all things tasty. The sun got low, and it cooled off a little. After the obligatory cheese, Christian, Vicki and I went for a walk in the village, up to the church, which involved going under a rail underpass. Sadly, the church wasn't open, but there were still some lovely sights to behold. It's quite sleepy, but lovely.

A cat followed us back to the house, and Annie shooed it away when we got there. Back inside, we watched the news, and Christian and I turned in fairly soon after. It was a big day at the end of a long week.

Coast walk, St Jean de Luz (again), La Rhune, and seafood meal

I was up and ready to leave at about 9am this morning. But I got up to the road, and realised that I had quite a wait for the next bus. So I set off walking, intending to get the bus further down the road. This was a fine idea in and of itself, but it turned into a bad choice once I'd got past the last stop for miles.

As the time for the bus approached, I tried to see a bus stop in the distance, but failed. So the bus merrily went by me, and I was left to walk the rest of the way to St Jean de Luz. This was a distance of about 8km. Oh well. The walk was enjoyable. But I had a lot of walking still ahead of me.

I got to Halt Routiere, and went to buy my bus ticket to Col de St Ignace, and discovered that the next bus wasn't until 2pm. I had done incomplete research. Less annoyingly, even if I'd got on the bus I intended to catch, I still wouldn't have made the earlier bus. Oh well. I consoled myself with the markets in St Jean de Luz, which were in full swing today. Many of the same stalls that had been in Hendaye were set up.

I bought another quiche, some olives from a lovely man who described each type and gave me a taste, and a tin of rillettes which could be used as back up. I ambled back through the port area to the end of the beach nearest the port entrance, and found a seat along the boardwalk to sit and eat my quiche and olives. They were tasty. There were lots of teenagers doing backflips off the diving pontoon.

I ambled further along the boardwalk, and treated myself to another ice cream (rude not to), and eventually went back to Halt Routiere to buy my ticket and wait for the bus. I wasn't left with an enormous amount of time, but I thought that I could always catch the train back down the mountain instead of attempting to walk it.

I boarded the bus to Col de St Ignace, which was mostly empty at this time of the day, and wended our way gradually uphill, on increasingly narrow roads, up into the hills. At Col de St Ignace, we got off, and I had a quick explore of the village. It was pretty enough, with an interesting looking souvenir shop, and a cafe set up. There was also a tourist information van, and I got a basic map of the walk downhill from some girls. A bunch of middle aged people were playing bad band music from their car stereo. It was a bit weird.

Ticket in hand, the little train arrived into the station, and I found a seat in an empty carriage. It was a very rustic train, with latched wooden half-doors with open tops and curtains. I soon had company in my carriage - it was fairly busy.

After quite a wait, we got underway up the hill. The first train took off first, and we followed behind a few minutes later. It went very slowly, but got steep quite quickly. Green slopes gave way to rock and cloud, and the first of the ponies. They were quite small, and some had enormous cowbells around their necks.

The trains stopped as we waited for the two others to come down to the passing place. We waved them past, and set off again up the hill. More cloud, woods, and some dyed sheep, and then we were above the clouds, and saw stark edges with walkers heading back downhill. And then the top was visible, with cafes, restaurants, and the tower that you can see from the sea.

The train stopped, and we disembarked. Upon checking the time, I realised that I would have to set off walking immediately in order to make it back to Col de St Ignace in time to get the last bus. I had a very cursory look around, and took a few photos. Sadly, the cloud meant that you couldn't see much of a view, and definitely couldn't see the sea. I said hello to a goat, and asked a jolly French man working on the train in bad French/sign language how to get to the path to walk down. He sent me over the train line (there were no fences or barriers), where I could see a sort of path, and so I set off down the mountain.

A couple set off at about the same time as me, and we paced each other for a while. The path was quite rocky, and quite steep, and really quite cloudy, and moved in zigzags. The couple were cutting the corners off, and I ended up doing the same to save time. The path wasn't always obvious, so I found myself constantly scanning for the yellow way markers to make sure I was on the right track.

We saw some ponies beside the path, and the couple stopped to say hi, so I managed to get ahead of them. I pushed on as fast as I could, passing signposts that just pointed to cloud, and measured the time against the way markers, which noted how long it would take to get down to Col de St Ignace. I had lost a bit of time, so really started moving.

I got to some ghostly woods, and heard some lone cowbells ringing out of the gloom. It was deadly silent apart from that, and really quite eerie. After that, the path went up and down, and around, and I passed a couple more people. Then it started going down in earnest, and I was making up decent time. I started pacing another couple, who had poles, and were doing it properly. Here it got very steep and rocky, and unprotected, and I found it very hard going.

Eventually, we got to a ferny forest gully, crossed a bridge over a stream, and saw signs of civilisation. It wasn't far from here on easy paths to the final bit of road, track, and the bus stop, which was an incredibly welcome sight. It was a good walk, but next time I'd like some more experienced company, and preferably an extra half hour!

I had made it with about 15 minutes to spare, which means I did it in one hour and 40 minutes. I had a look in the souvenir shop (which wasn't as exciting as I'd thought it would be), and bought an ice tea from the cafe (I'd drunk all my water and was thirsty). The bus came along on time, and we headed back down to St Jean de Luz.

Christian was waiting for me (it was sometime after 5pm), and we drove back to the campsite. Showers and changes of clothes were had, as the whole group was to head to a seafood restaurant in Hendaye for our final dinner.

We drove into town with Vicki, found a place to park (beating Annie there), and found the restaurant. It was small, but nice. Steve brought his wife, daughter and family. I had fish soup for a started, which was very large, and incredibly dense and filling (but tasty), and mussels for mains. Christian had ordered mussels for a starter, but got his main first, and then nothing else. He ended up finishing my soup for me, and enjoying it. I didn't order dessert, but tasted some of Christian's, and Annie ended up sharing hers with me. It was a nice meal.

We headed back to the campsite, did a bit of packing, and called it a night.

St Jean de Luz and Biarritz

My plan today was to explore St Jean de Luz with Annie and get some lunch, and get the local train to Biarritz. Best laid plans, etc. . .

I took my time this morning, as I was expecting to meet up with Annie just before lunch to spend the best part of the day in St Jean de Luz. But when I wandered over to her van, she had abandoned the plan because it was too late in the day. Oh well. We did a run of rubbish up to the big bins near reception.

I got up to the road in good time to get a bus. The coach came along at the right time, and I stepped on and asked for St Jean de Luz. The driver beckoned me closer to him. After the exchange of some embarrassingly bad French on my part, it turned out that the fare was only two euros, and so I got on and took a seat on a very comfortable coach that had only one other person on it.

The coach went via the funny little village we'd passed on the way in (Socoa), and then around the coast through Ciboure.

In St Jean de Luz, I got off at Halt Routiere, and went under the underpass to the train station. Turned out that the local trains weren't running that day (no idea why), and the SNCF trains weren't really frequent enough to fill me with confidence that I could get back.

So I went back to the other side, and decided to get some lunch and think about what to do. I went into the market building. There were only a few stalls open as it wasn't full market day, but I got a quiche for lunch, and wandered the streets.

It felt very much like a cafe culture place - quite laid back. I found my way to the beach, which was beautiful, and not very busy. Again they had diving pontoons out on the water. I wandered to the right along the boardwalk, and got an ice cream in the middle of all the restaurants. I kept walking to the far side of the bay, up a small, grassy hill with a white building on it. There wasn't much to see there, but the view was very good.

I wended my way back to Halt Routiere via the back streets, and looked up the buses to the La Rhune train for the next day. I noticed that a bus went to Biarritz too. So I waited for the next bus to come along, which really wasn't long - they seemed relatively frequent, and were much cheaper than the SNCF trains. It was a busy bus, and took a fairly circuitous route. I had two choices: get off at La Negresse, or at the airport. The bus didn't really go any closer to town than that.

I chose La Negresse. That meant I had to walk for 3.5 km to get to the beach. It was hot, and I'd had enough of walking by the time I got to the sea. The walk was fairly uninteresting, but at least it was mostly downhill. I hit the shiny touristy shops, and a nice art deco theatre. I bought a crepe from a nice lady in a cafe in a beachy street, and continued to a beautiful little bay. I had a comfort stop, and continued around the coast, via some very interesting rocky outcrops with walkways out to them. I finally rounded the last corner and saw the main beach strip, with its tantalisingly art deco buildings (which aren't art deco at all when you get close).

On the way around, I stopped for a look in the cathedral. You really don't expect to see a cathedral that close to the sea. It was beautiful, and has boats suspended from the ceiling. Outside again, I went down onto the sand and had a wander. The buildings on the seafront were very grand, and there was what looked like a proper chateau at the far end. Amazing place.

I was tired and hot, and so decided to call it a day, and get a bus back up to La Negresse instead of walking. I went up past the pool complex (very grand) and followed the buses to where they stop. I'd overheard an Australian man and his son on the beach, and we ended up on the same street. He asked me in French for the time, and I told him in English. We had a chat - it was a nice human moment. The little boy was very sweet.

I stopped in a shop to rehydrate with a large bottle of iced tea, and waited for the next bus, trying to keep my burnt legs and feet out of the sun. I got on and got my ticket, and took a seat. I got off at the train station (which was obviously just as far away from the town as the bus) and walked around the corner to the bus stop.

I had quite a long wait. It was well after 5pm by now. I got on the very full bus, and (after trying to make the internet work on my phone to find a sensible meeting place, and failing) arranged to meet Christian at St Jean de Luz station. We met up no problem.

We had arranged to have our own dinner in the van tonight, and to do some wedding planning, but after the short drive back to Hendaye, and throwing together all the tasty things I'd bought in Lidl for dinner, we just relaxed. It was a nice evening. I think we had an early night.

Markets and San Sebastian

Today, Annie, Sue and I planned to go to the markets in Hendaye. After having had my breakfast in the van, and sat down with the ladies for a while and checked the map, Sue decided that she really wasn't up to the journey, and so she stayed behind to rest. Annie and I set off probably around 10am.

We drove into the town, and found where we needed to go. The problem was there was nowhere at all to park. We went round a few times, before Annie dropped me off while she found a spot. I had a quick meander past a few stalls, and a more earnest search for a cash machine (unsuccessful), and then saw her coming up the hill, having parked miles away.

It was a very interesting mix of stalls - clothing, jewellery, accessories, spirits, all kinds of food. The food, of course, was the most amazing. Annie bought some cherries, and lent me €50 because I had no cash. I bought three types of saucisson, and some strawberries. We were given a few things to try, and I wanted to buy some ham, but decided that we'd had some from Barcelona, and it was pretty expensive.

Annie treated us to a coffee in a cafe on the street, and we chatted. It was another lovely warm day. We headed back, stopping at the Saint-Vincent church at the end of the square. It was beautiful inside, but we found the three galleries up high, made of dark wood, very curious. They were almost like a Shakespearean theatre or something.

We headed back outside and did the long march downhill to the car. Annie gave me the choice of going to the port with her, or being dropped at the train station. After some deliberation, I chose the station, as I didn't want to get back too late. So she dropped me off, and headed back out into the traffic.

At the station, I went inside the SNCF section, realised I was in the wrong place, and set about finding the Euskotren platform and station. It wasn't too hard. Upon walking out of the SNCF, it was a small building off to the right. There was just a shelter really, with ticket machines and gates. I bought my ticket (€2.35 each way), and waited in the shade for the train to arrive. It was fairly busy.

The train went over the bridge into Spain immediately, then through a procession of interesting looking towns. There were quite a lot of high-rise apartments, and it all started looking a bit more like Spain, though very unpretentious. We arrived in San Sebastian after about 35 minutes, and I got off. The station entrance was in a lovely square, surrounded by grand old buildings.

My first priority was food, and so I wandered in a direction I thought might result in food. Nothing looked tempted, so I ended up going into a shopping centre to get the makings of lunch from a supermarket. It was an exciting supermarket. I got some crisps, a sandwich, some pineapple juice, and some chocolate and headed back outside. I worked out which way the sea was and made my way in that direction. I passed a lovely (and enormous) cathedral, but it wasn't open at that time of day. The sea was essentially in a straight line from the cathedral.

I munched my crisps, and took the world in as it went by. It was a huge, proud, grand old city, with wide avenues. A lot like Barcelona. At the beach, there were palm tress, benches under trees, and nice flowers. There was also a large hill with a religious statue on top of it, which had an obvious walking path up to it. I had a look at the beach, and walked around the bay to the aquarium, finding a seat there to eat my lunch on. The sandwich was distinctly unimpressive.

I had no particular plan, so decided to walk up the large hill. I found out that the part of the bay that I'd walked around didn't actually link up to the aquarium, so I retraced my steps back to the buildings, and walked up the slow incline towards the hill, past some very interesting looking cobbled lanes.

And then the climbing started in earnest. It started with some pretty steep steps, and then continued on zigzagging, steep paths. It was hot, and hard work. There were quite a few people around, and a few things to look at on the way. I was particularly interested by the stair railings, which were concrete carved to look like wood. There was a 'Bateria de Napoleon', where Napoleon and Wellington had a big showdown in 1813.

I finally got to the big fort where the statue is, and made my way up this. There was a museum there, and so I went in. It was large and well organised, though there were no signs in English. There was a video room, which is where I spent most of my time. I sat down during one film and watched what was on the screen for a while, without realising that you could choose what to watch. When the room thinned out, I chose a few videos, which were narrated in English by young Spanish people. They were interesting, and well made, but their accents made it hard to understand. The gist was that the whole town was besieged, and burnt to the ground apart from some key buildings. The powers that be had difficulty deciding how to rebuild the town, and so after much discussion, a plan was made and the town rebuilt. San Sebastian also has a proud sporting tradition, with a surprisingly wide range of sports being played there. What I didn't realise at the time was that the French had taken the city in 1794, and the 1813 skirmish was the English and Portuguese taking it back.

I headed out of the museum, in search of toilets (and failing), and took some shots of the view, and up to the statue of Christ as well. I started to head down, which was much quicker and easier than the way up. Back at the beach, I found toilets, and had a wander on the now crowded sand. There were swimming pontoons out in the bay. It had a nice feel.

I had seen probably all I was going to see in one day, so started making my way back to the station. On the way I found an accessories shop that had good sunglasses in it, so I bought some for €10.

I had a short wait for the next train, and had a comfortable journey back to Hendaye. I texted Christian, so he was waiting for me at the station. We headed back to the van. With his new 'slips de bain', we went for a quick dip in the pool. It was nice enough. Very well kept and clean.

Annie had agreed to cook for us again - a chicken casserole that she'd been brewing from the night before (she'd asked me to taste it and suggest additional flavours). It was utterly delicious, and felt very French. The divers all compared photos and videos, and talked about the day's diving. Again, we had cheese to accompany it. The wine that Christian had bought was professed to be bad, though I drank some. It was agreed that because Sue wasn't feeling up to readying the house for guests that we'd stay with Annie and Dave on the way home rather than Paul and Sue. We headed to bed at about normal time.

Faulty fridge, beach, Spain for tapas

Strangely enough, this morning was much like the morning before. It was so nice not having to be up for anything.

I intended to go and see the town today, and meet Christian for lunch, but as market day was Wednesday, I thought I would wait and do both things together.

Before that, though, we became convinced that the fridge really didn't work, and so I went up to reception to ask them to fix it. The woman there had reasonable English, and she said she'd send someone down to look at it. I went back to the van, and after about 15 minutes, a nice man with excellent English came to look at it. He said he'd come back in half an hour to see if it was still warm, and that he'd replace it if so. I said I was about to go out, and he said he'd let himself in.

I packed myself up, and set off walking to the beach. I took the path along the road until I could get closer to the cliff edge. I found a dirt road into the thick forest, but only got a few hundred metres before the mud and puddles became impassable in my thongs.

So I went back to the path beside the road, and made my way down the hill. It didn't take long to get to the beach, and the end closest to the campsite was almost empty. I took a couple of photos, and made my way along the beach in a leisurely fashion.

At the end, I investigated the breakwall before finding a spot to sit down and get a little sun. I didn't spend too long there before Christian finished for the day, and we managed to meet up on the beach. After a short swim, we made our way back to the car, and then back to the campsite.

We got ready, and went out again as a group (we took Vicki with us) over the border to check out Spain, well Hondaribbia. It was slightly disorganised in that Paul and Christian ended up in different places - not helped by the fact that there was some festival going on where the locals were burning things next to the harbour, and there was nowhere to park.

We eventually found each other, and sat down to enjoy some delicious tapas in a lovely square on top of the hill. We were treated to a marching (trudging?) band coming through as well. It got cold, and Vicki lent me her scarf to wrap around me.

After dinner, Christian, Vicki, and I investigated the festival back down the hill (it wasn't very exciting), and then headed back to Hendaye via a fuel station. It wasn't a very late night.

First day diving, lunch, shopping, dinner

Christian got up at about 7.30, had a shower, had some breakfast, and headed off with the divers just before nine. I, on the other hand, woke when he did, and got up when he left, waving them off. I had breakfast and a lazy morning, and then met up with Sue and Annie for a coffee and a chat, and then Annie drove us down to the marina to meet up with the divers for lunch.

We had a bit of a wait while the boat came back, so had a wander. It's a beautiful part of town, looking directly over to Spain. I looked up the name of the dive company, and so we recognised the boat as it came in, and got some waves as they approached. They brought some gear in, and got changed, and then we went in search of somewhere for lunch. We liked the look of one place, but they ignored us for ages, so Annie led us out to find another place. Sadly, there weren't any others open, so we found ourselves back there.

We ordered the menu du jour, and took a table nearest the water. It was very warm in the sun, but the food (salad, pork steak main, and an amazing strawberry dessert) was very good, and quite reasonably priced.

The divers pootled off back to the boat, and the non-divers back to Annie's car. She took us on a quick driving tour of the town, and then to Lidl to do some shopping. We got the things we needed - apart from the mundane, I was determined to get rillettes and confit at that point. After a quick stop at the Intermarche as well, we got what we needed, and headed back to the campsite. I unpacked the shopping, and then must have had a lazy afternoon at this point.

The divers came back not long after 5, and Annie once again provided dinner for us. This time it was very light - salad, a potato dish, and the obligatory cheese (and possibly chocolate).

Christian and I went to bed probably sometime around 10.

Poitiers to Hendaye

We managed to get up in good time, got ready, and went downstairs for breakfast. It was good, though continental. The pancakes were very nice. All of the things were packed up again, and we checked out and headed for the car again. The lime tree had made all sorts of mess on the car. Yuck. Paul had texted to let us know that the shops would be shut when we arrived, and to buy supplies on the way if we wanted them. The Auchan across the road was closed, so we agreed to stop en route.

It was easy to get back on the motorway, and we continued our journey through some interesting logging operations, where they were watering piles of logs. Hmm. We made a stop or two in the morning - I think Vicki got an ice cream here - she had a newspaper up in the window to keep the sun off - it was properly warm now.

We ate and ran for lunch - sandwiches/baguettes, and I got some tarte citron for afters. By now, there was barely any traffic on the road. There was an unexplained traffic jam around the Bordeaux exit, but that was it.

As we neared Hendaye, the landscape changed. It went from being flat, rural land to hilly and populated. The road works also started. The exit was a small one, and we drove through some villagey places before descending a hill and seeing the ocean. How lovely! The road followed the coast for about ten minutes, and then our home for the next week was on the left. We arrived just after 2pm.

I was immediately struck by how well kept the campsite was. It was very green, with bushes for privacy. Paul had given them our plates, and so the barrier let us in. We drove to the vans that we knew were ours (Vicki was next door), and gave Paul a call. He came around the corner to give us our keys and to say hi. We joined the Coxons and the Lesters on the Lesters' balcony, and met everyone and had a chat, before going to do the unpacking.

Christian put together his dive kit while I unpacked everything. The vans were small but well designed, and with places for everything. They'd left us a welcome pack with a washing up cloth, one roll of toilet paper, and some floor mopping detergent and a little washing up liquid. We realised that we needed tea towels, more toilet paper, and more washing up liquid.

Christian and I decided to do some exploring down to the beach, which had been billed in the literature as a five minute walk from the campsite. We crossed the road and immediately saw barriers stopping us getting to the cliff. We tried to get around them, but failed, falling back to the road heading downhill looking for another way through. We found another entrance, and followed it to the cliff - the path was pretty rocky. Once there, though, we found we couldn't turn left, as it was blocked again. The path was closed until the end of June. So we went the other way. The path went between fields, and then down fairly steep steps to the sea.

We found an ocean bath, which was fenced off, and lots of rocks and pools. We scrambled down onto the interestingly jagged rocks and had a look in the pools. We saw some shrimps and some crabs, and Christian found some fish. He was walking in the water.

Back on dry land, we walked up past the ocean bath, and I opted to wait at the top of the stairs while Christian had an explore. There was a man filletting something he'd caught on a spear - either a sole or a ray.

Christian came back and we wandered back to the campsite, having a look at the pool on the way. A sign insisted on swimmers for men rather than shorts, and so we didn't go in.

Back at the van, we went up to the shop to buy some supplies - milk, beer, and wine. We then met at the Lester's van and Annie prepared dinner for us as a group - a delicious French-style chicken casserole. It was a fun evening, and I realised that the company for the week was going to be good.

Back at the van, we got ready for bed, and had quite an early one, ready for the next day.

Setting off for France - to Poitiers

The alarm went off at 6.15, and we were ready for Vicki to arrive at 7am. As she duly did. We packed her things into the car, did a few last checks, and were on the road with a minimum of fuss.

Traffic was light, and we made a stop at the M20 services for coffee. Before long, we were in Folkestone, and checking in for our train. As we were early, we were given the option of an earlier train, which was great. We parked up outside the services (with a scary moment when the car wouldn't start when Christian wanted to move it) and went inside for a quick break.

Our train was called fairly quickly, and we drove in the direction of the queuing cars, on a complicated overpass and ramp system, and edged our way down onto the platform. We drove onto the enormous train (this felt very weird), and into the bottom deck, driving through a number of carriages before coming to our final space. The marshals directed us to the last spot in a carriage, and closed the doors behind us. It felt very strange.

It felt even stranger when the train started moving, so gently to begin with that you could hardly feel it. We got out and perched along the rail (there were no seats) and the 35 minute journey went very quickly. On the other side, the doors all opened automatically, and we had a short wait before we were allowed to drive into France. It was very efficient and easy. Highly recommended.

Christian set off on the wrong side of the road in cloudy conditions, had a quick break to sort out the route, and got onto the right road. There was a reasonable amount of traffic on the road at this point, including some kind of classic car club, with loads of Brits. We made a stop for fuel, and then another for lunch at 'Flunch'. I had a quiche that I warmed up in their microwave, with tiramisu for afters, and we sat outside to eat.

Back on the road, we made another stop or two, going past some birds of prey on the side of the road (we've been told they are buzzards, though I'm sure I saw a couple of different types), and then easily found the Ibis in Poitiers south, and parked under a lime tree in the shade (it was sunny and warm by now). Check in was easy, and hilarious, because the woman made a big deal of Christian putting his card in the machine too quickly. We decided to pre-book breakfast, which was a buffet for €9.50.

We relaxed in our comfortable rooms for an hour or so, and agreed to meet for dinner at 7.30 as the restaurant downstairs looked very nice.

We were shown to a table in the restaurant, and despite a lot of very nice sounding options, I chose confit of duck. Christian had a duck breast, and Vicki had a salad. The confit was great, the duck breast was great, but Vicki was not impressed by the salad. It was still a nice meal, with good service.

Back upstairs, we agreed to meet at 8am for breakfast, and turned in at around 10pm.

Last morning in Les Arcs, and heading home

We'd had the option of skiing on our last morning, which would have involved paying extra for hire and lift passes, and getting up early and rushing back to be ready for the coach at 12.30. After such a big Saturday, we decided to give ourselves a sleep-in and a leisurely breakfast instead. All the Rackers did likewise, despite Sean's intention of going out.

So I think we got up at about 9am and went down to breakfast. There were a lot more Rackers there this time. All the talk was of Rob getting lucky and not being in the hotel. After breakfast, we packed up and checked out, leaving our bags in the foyer, and then went for a wander in the village.

We bought some mini saucissons, and Christian bought some glove liners. We then went up some stairs and discovered the main frontage of the resort, and just how close the bottom of Transarc 46 was to the hotel. The cloud was very high today, and at this point it was difficult to see around the village. We walked back to the hotel in time for about midday.

As we wanted to get the front seat of the bus, we followed Georgia down when she went to find the coach driver. Except we couldn't find him. After a number of phone calls, the coach driver appeared on another bus and spoke to Georgia. He was refusing to bring the coach up to the bus stop, despite this having been the arrangement, because the police had been hassling him. In the end, he gave in, and went to get the coach and drive it up.

We all got on, and finally set off. The road down to Bourg St Maurice was in cloud, and our progress was slow, but once on the flat, we made good time. We stopped at a services, and bought some wraps for lunch, with crisps and chocolate for added snackiness. Before much longer, we were back at the Swiss border, and then at the airport.

Check-in was painless, but we had a long time to kill at the airport, so we did lots of wandering, and finally sat to eat (although it was technically too early for dinner). I had a good pizza, and Christian had a pasta bolognaise.

Our gate was called and we made the journey there. It was a cool round series of gates up some stairs. Boarding was called, and we waited almost until last to get on. We were delayed because the baggage handlers had put the wrong bag on our plane, and so we had to wait for that to get sorted out. The flight itself was smooth. We were served a wrap, which I saved for later.

Back in London, we did the usual - passport control, collected baggage, said goodbye to the Rackers, and headed to a pod, from whence we found the car and drove home.

Full day skiing in Les Arcs

The alarm went off at 7pm, which wasn't too bad. We wanted to get as early a start as possible. We got ready and went down to breakfast, and unsurprisingly, were the only Rackers in sight. We had a couple of courses of breakfast (I had a very unsatisfactory cup of tea), and Prash and Sally appeared before long. Turned out the lifts only opened at 9.15, so we took our time (after a slight panic about my lost sunglasses which turned up in the drying room), got ready, and were up on the slopes at around 9.30.

We skiied fairly constantly all morning. First up, we took Transarc 47 up higher, and spent some time on Col de la Chal, and Valee de l'Arc. It was very crunchy up there early on, and Vallee de l'Arc was hard for me to get enough speed up on. We stayed there for a bit, and took one of the red runs down a couple of times. There were a lot of people up there, and many of them were quite aggressive skiiers. We skiied down to Arc 1950, and got the Marmottes and Arcabulle lifts right back up to the top. We made a detour to the St Jacques lift, which had some lovely wide by steep blue runs. Again there was no one there. This was a beginner area, so the lift was painfully slow. Time was getting short, and so we started making our way to lunch. Back at the top of Bois de l'Ours, we took the Arpette run down, and crossed over to Grands Melezes. We were going to go back to the room to get Christian's SLR, but in the end, we couldn't be bothered.

Because my feet and legs were so sore, I stayed halfway up the Transarc lift while Christian skiied down to the bottom of Charmettoger and took that lift back up again, though I had to go uphill to get there. That was better than the alternative. Loosening my boots was enough to restore the circulation to my lower legs and feet. Christian reappeared, and we got on the Transarc 47 with some other Rackers, and went to the top to meet the other for lunch at La Creche. We got reserved tables outside, and went in to get our self serve lunch. I had a burger and chips, with chocolate mousse for afters. It was nice, but not amazing. Christian had a steak.

After lunch, we were going to ski with Birgit and her Dutch other half and another Racker, but they took off a little slowly for us, so we overtook them and went down Col de la Chal, and Plan des Eaux, continuing down to the bottom of Marmottes. Because the Plagnettes and Arcabulle lifts were so busy, we took Bois de L'Ours back up to l'Arpette and spent quite some time on the Arpette runs. I took the long blue run once, but got lost and ended up going down the red Col des Frettes, which was not fun. I concluded that taking the early red drop-off was much easier, though it was a bit icy.

Christian had arranged to meet Prash at 4pm so we could ski together. They spoke to each other when we were halfway up Transarc, so rather than skiing down to meet him, we stayed where we were and waited for him to take the lift up to us. We set off skiing, and for a beginner, he was very brave and keen. I think he made some good progress, though I'm not sure we were the best of teachers. It was a steep run for him to try and he did well.

Sab caught up with us, and offered to stay with Prash while we went to the bottom of the run and came back up. So we did. At the bottom of Charmettoger, we got a bit lost, and Birgit told us how to get to the bottom of the lift (via Belvedere). Only she got it wrong. So we skiied down to the hotel, and walked back up to the lift, and got on it. We looked everywhere for Prash and Sab, but couldn't see them anywhere. So we decided to just keep doing Charmettoger until the lift closed. We were halfway down when Sab went past on the lift over my head. I asked what he'd done with Prash. He said he'd killed him and buried the body. At least they'd got down safely.

We kept going and took the lift back up. Christian decided to bomb down on this run. So he was well ahead of me when Sab went past overhead again, telling me that I was being left behind. I think we fitted in one more run right before the lift closed, and headed back to the hotel. We dropped off our hire gear (I wasn't sorry to get those boots off) and went upstairs.

I was determined to have a sauna, so after lolling around (Christian was a bit sniffly by now) and getting our energy back, I went downstairs to investigate, and found I had the whole area to myself. The warmth was heaven on my muscles, but as usual, 20 minutes was about all I could take. I went looking for the piscine, but failed to find it (Christian later told me that it was outside).

I had a shower, got dressed quickly, and we went out to keep our dinner reservation. The restaurant (La Cabane des Neiges) was nowhere near as noisy or crowded as it had been the night before (which was a blessing), and we were shown to our table downstairs. We ordered a glass of champagne each, and ordered our raclette. It came out very quickly, and it was fun playing with the melting machine. The plate arrangement wasn't perfect, though, and I couldn't keep up with all the melting cheese (we turned it off a couple of times). It was absolutely delicious, though, and well worth the price. We didn't have a starter or dessert, as there was plenty of food.

As we were leaving at about 8.30, the rest of the Rackers were arriving, so that was good timing. Christian was quite sniffly, and ready for bed by now, so we headed back to the hotel, and turned in early for the night.

Early start to Geneva, and thence to Les Arcs

The alarm went off most unwelcomely at 4am. We were out the door around 4.30, drove to Heathrow terminal 5, and parked easily in the POD parking area. We had to wait about ten minutes for a pod, which was freezing and annoying, but we got to departures in plenty of time, and met up with Georgia and the Rackers. We checked in and went through security, and met Sean and Prash and Sally in Starbucks for some breakfast.

The gate was finally called, and we made our way to it. Boarding was well in advance of the flight time, so we ambled to our seats, and strapped in a row with Sean. The flight was uneventful - I had tea again, and we were served another ham and cheese croissant, which I saved for later. The landing into Geneva was a bit bumpy, and I was slightly queasy.

We filed off the plane, and Georgia shepherded us like cats to the baggage carousel, and thence to the coach. Georgia made sure that Christian and I had the front seat - the coach was not full as the presidents club had done the drive the day before. The coach driver was a funny guy. He had good English, and was always cracking jokes.

There was snow on the ground very soon after Geneva, and continued all the way into the alps. We passed through the border before the snow started, and the drive, after beginning fairly grey and ordinary, soon brightened up so we could enjoy the beautiful scenery.

We made a stop at a McDonald's, which was surrounded by large piles of dirty snow. Christian won at orders by using the machine and getting our food before anyone else. After 20 minutes or so, we were back on the road.

Most of us started to nod off after this, and I began to wonder how on earth I'd find the energy to ski for the afternoon. We got to Bourg St Maurice, and I was pretty awake. Christian described how he'd arrived there by train before to get to other resorts. We then started the final climb to Les Arcs. After a few choice switchbacks, the driver stopped, and we walked the final few hundred metres to the hotel. Our luggage was taken care of. I was thankful for my new snow boots.

The hotel was nice, without being decadent. We picked up keys and other essentials, and headed downstairs to the bar for a welcome drink. This did not include coffee, about which I was unimpressed. We had a coffee to wake us up, went to our room to get ready, and went straight to the hire shop to pick up our gear. This was done with a minimum of fuss. My boots were tight, but fitted well.

We walked the short distance uphill to the Charmettoger lift, got our skis on, and began. The weather and conditions were near perfect - it was sunny, and the snow was deep and dry. At the top of the Charmettoger lift, we got straight on Transarc 47, and went higher up the mountain. At the top, I think we took Plan-vert, detoured onto Plan, and then onto Marmottes to Arc 1950. From there, we got the Bois de L'ours lift up to L'Arpette, from whence Arpette, and Grands Melezes, back to the Charmettoger area, The Charmettoger runs were really nice, as the sun was finally full on the area, and there was no one there. Heavenly - we did another few runs until the lifts closed at 4.50.

Christian dropped down onto the road via a narrow snowy off-piste path, while I much more safely walked around the road, which was quicker in the end, by the time he and others had worked out how to get over the car park fence. Back in the hotel, we dropped our skis, boots and poles downstairs in the drying room attached to the hire shop, and went to our room.

After taking some sunset photos out the window, we got dressed and went down to the bar to meet people pre-dinner. We were so early that most people, having gone straight to the bar apres-ski, were leaving to get ready. We got some spirit mixers, and asked about food, because we hadn't had any since Maccas and I was starving. They didn't have any crisps, but the bar had put on plates of tasty meats and things, and so we gobbled up lots of that. Yum.

People came back to the bar ready for dinner, and the real drinking started. Christian had a genepi, as it seemed the thing to do. Then one of the barmen offered a genepi to one of the girls for free, but she didn't want it. So I had it. It wasn't bad.

When everyone was gathered, we walked down into the village for dinner, to Une Parenthese. It was a nice enough place, and the food was good, if not terribly French. The wine was very nice. We sat at a table with no one we knew, and chatted to the others. For a starter I had a foie gras terrine, which was tasty. Christian had scallops in eclairs (choux pastry), which sounded random, but was apparently good. For main I had a sea bass fillet with beetroot risotto. The fish was good, and the risotto was definitely not beetroot, but tasty all the same. Christian had beef with mashed potato - he said it was overcooked, or pre-cooked. Either way, not great. At this point, I went outside to ring Jill about bills. When I came back, everyone was playing musical chairs, and so I sat with Andy and Sally for a while.

Amar got up to make his famous speech, and I went back to my seat. The speech was pretty awful, because they kept ordering shots for him. Anyway, dessert came - mine was the chocolate and caramel dessert of randomness, which was not very caramel. It was nice though, a soft sweet thing covered in chocolate, roughly in the shape of a large chocolate bar. Christian had chestnut cream mousse, which was pretty good.

We left soon after the speeches, and had a wander down into the village to see if we could find places to eat raclette the next night. We found a good contender and booked then and there. As we walked back past the restaurant, more speeches had started, so our timing had been good. Back at the hotel, I had a shower, and we got ready for bed. It was after 11pm by the time we switched off the light.