- Untitled
- The season begins
- Jan 2010
- Feb 2010
- March 2010
- April 2010
- May 2010
- Ski Pictures 2010
- June 2010
- July 2010
- August 2010
- September 2010
- October 2010
- Late October
- November
- December 2010
- January 2011
- February
- The European Youth Olympic Festival
- March 2011
- The season ends
- May and June 2011
- End of June
- July
- August in Yorkshire
- September 2011
- 28 October 2011
- November/December 2011
- Season 2012
- February 2012
- March and April
- June
- 'Summer' 2012
May 2010
Good to be back
May 4th 2010
Honi and I brought the dogs back to the UK on the tunnel, deciding it was worth sacrificing the all night bingo and ‘eat as much as you like buffet’ of the Rotterdam Hull ferry for a poo free car. We made it from Flaine to the not at all memorable Holiday Inn Express in Folkstone in 12 hours. It was good to be home: ‘dogs are extra’ and ‘not in the restaurant of course’. I left them in the car while Honi ate chicken tikka massala and I regretted my choice of the vegetarian dish of the day which was basically just rice.
We woke early and after soggy toast and a bracing walk round a litter strewn lorry park we were on our way. Just in time to hit rush hour in the Dartford tunnel. The radio had become untuned in France. Totally fed up with the five CDs which had lasted four months I tried to find a channel. Eventually I struck lucky with Radio 3 and what I (surprisingly) recognised as Bach’s Goldenberg Variations. ‘Mum, that’s not music its a camel’ came the wail on my left. I soon gave up the fight and on went ’Waah wah goobly dah.......(lady Gaga I believe).again.
Tim was at the bottom of the slalom course in La Clusaz when Sam gave him my message: ‘Mum says that the woman in the health food shop told her that an volcano has exploded in Iceland so all the airports are shut’. He has spent the whole season telling people that his wife is insane so was thrilled to be vindicated.
The plan had been for Sam to finish the French Nationals, and them to drive the hire car back to Geneva and jump on the plane. Timing was tight as we were celebrating our eldest’s 21st birthday the next day.
I was cooking an eleven course Chinese meal for 32 when I got the instruction to ‘get them back’. Tim’s phone was out of credit, his credit cards weren’t working and he had returned the hire car. Oh and there was industrial action on the French railways. Insanity must run in the family.
They made Yorkshire by 5 p.m on the day of the party, complete with four ski bag (on wheels!) and kit bag that made Honi’s look like a pillowcase. I was too busy mashing prawns to show my admiration.
The party finished at 4.30 a.m, all but the eight ‘adult’ guests stayed the night. After four hours sleep I was tiptoeing round bodies collecting wine glasses. Lucky appeared with something large and yellow in her mouth. Tim had remembered to bring it back as requested. Sam had ruffled through his bag to find some clothes then left it open in the garage and Lucky had found the Parmesan cheese from Topolino.
May 4th 2010
Honi and I brought the dogs back to the UK on the tunnel, deciding it was worth sacrificing the all night bingo and ‘eat as much as you like buffet’ of the Rotterdam Hull ferry for a poo free car. We made it from Flaine to the not at all memorable Holiday Inn Express in Folkstone in 12 hours. It was good to be home: ‘dogs are extra’ and ‘not in the restaurant of course’. I left them in the car while Honi ate chicken tikka massala and I regretted my choice of the vegetarian dish of the day which was basically just rice.
We woke early and after soggy toast and a bracing walk round a litter strewn lorry park we were on our way. Just in time to hit rush hour in the Dartford tunnel. The radio had become untuned in France. Totally fed up with the five CDs which had lasted four months I tried to find a channel. Eventually I struck lucky with Radio 3 and what I (surprisingly) recognised as Bach’s Goldenberg Variations. ‘Mum, that’s not music its a camel’ came the wail on my left. I soon gave up the fight and on went ’Waah wah goobly dah.......(lady Gaga I believe).again.
Tim was at the bottom of the slalom course in La Clusaz when Sam gave him my message: ‘Mum says that the woman in the health food shop told her that an volcano has exploded in Iceland so all the airports are shut’. He has spent the whole season telling people that his wife is insane so was thrilled to be vindicated.
The plan had been for Sam to finish the French Nationals, and them to drive the hire car back to Geneva and jump on the plane. Timing was tight as we were celebrating our eldest’s 21st birthday the next day.
I was cooking an eleven course Chinese meal for 32 when I got the instruction to ‘get them back’. Tim’s phone was out of credit, his credit cards weren’t working and he had returned the hire car. Oh and there was industrial action on the French railways. Insanity must run in the family.
They made Yorkshire by 5 p.m on the day of the party, complete with four ski bag (on wheels!) and kit bag that made Honi’s look like a pillowcase. I was too busy mashing prawns to show my admiration.
The party finished at 4.30 a.m, all but the eight ‘adult’ guests stayed the night. After four hours sleep I was tiptoeing round bodies collecting wine glasses. Lucky appeared with something large and yellow in her mouth. Tim had remembered to bring it back as requested. Sam had ruffled through his bag to find some clothes then left it open in the garage and Lucky had found the Parmesan cheese from Topolino.