The surprises kids spring on you...

Sitting in a deep snow trench in -10oC with bright sunlight that made the sky so ‘azzuro’ blue it was breathtaking; the old gits were actually as warm as recently roasted chestnuts soaking in a magical moment. The two boys, (actually they are in their mid-20s and now men; but it is difficult to appreciate that being an old git!), had behaved a touch strange in the morning with a lot of ‘furtive’ rummaging taking place behind our backs. As usual old gits think something is wrong and try and to stick their noses in places they shouldn’t, resulting in frustration from the young bucks.
A shovel placed along with the skis was a touch hard to disguise so we knew something serious was up! We were then ordered to go off and ski which we duly did, although as the New Year week had started and our once quiet pistes looked, from the mountain top, as if several ant nests had been disturbed. The old gits had forgotten what poor skiers they had once been and we mumbled under our breath as novices would suddenly turn right in front of you. If only they knew how much danger they were in as male old git thundered down upon them; parallel stops were still a relative novelty and far from perfected.

My newly acquired French mobile phone rings (thereby another tale but not now) and we are instructed to a rendezvous point. We eventually reach the boys after standing in queues for what felt like hours and for a few hundred yards we skied to the edge of a busy piste. Unclipping skies we are escorted to a dining table, in a quiet clearing among trees, made from a huge snow drift; a bottle of Dom Perignon (The gift to the eldest for passing his final exams) cools smugly in the snow.

Laid out were four sandwiches, well to be truthful they looked more like ‘Dockers’ butties’, but nobody was complaining. We sat in relative quiet sipping the champagne, absorbed by the situation and surroundings: all too soon the champagne had slipped down quickly and we all agreed we should have bought another!

One lasting memory is younger sibling skiing down at full pelt with a shovel over his shoulder; you should have seen the looks!

Well done lads you knocked the socks off us with that one…

What a time for a weak £...

I’m going to start on a serious note. If you are thinking of coming to enjoy the excellent snow out here in the Alps, bring plenty of cash…, namely Euros. It is not just the weak £ but prices here have rocketed since last year. I have seen even locals sharing dishes on the slopes and this has compounded the situation where restaurateurs are trying every trick in the trade to up the bill. I went to the local bar last night for a quite drink with my son and it nearly cost me an arm and a leg. Some friends popped in and the next thing we were in quite large rounds but of course this is only settled at the end and it is a licence to rip the customer off. So from now on I’m doing it the English way and buying one round at a time!
Anyway enough of the old git whinging for the weather here is sunny and cold; very cold -9oC. However it is that dry mountain cold and for some reason does not seem to affect you as much. It may of course be something to do with the regular “vin chaud” en route… The views are unbelievable and many days you can see the cloud in the valley below looking like a gigantic cotton wool lake from a mystical tale.


The boys are still with us and old female git is in her element where the banter and laughter rarely stops, except first thing in the morning. Old gits bedtime is 5 hours early than the youngsters and we awake bright eyed and bushy tailed only to hear mutterings from the other bedroom; something to do with keeping the volume down. It is amazing how much noise you can make in a small kitchen.
Christmas day was quite frankly unbelievable. We had planned to have dinner at a friend’s chalet with all of us sharing the workload. But up on the slopes of Mont Chery with sun and brilliant white snow we all agreed to eat later and enjoy the day. The long day skiing, far too much wine and food meant it was the earliest retirement ever on Christmas day as nobody, including the youngsters, could keep their eyes open any longer. However it didn’t prevent a few rounds of “Balderdash”. This game needs the ability to lie and bullsh*t and the standard despite the fatigue was remarkable…

The boys arrive...

The relative peace has been shattered. The old gits took a day off skiing with the intention of stocking up with food and booze. The result was a full scale fight with the French (& a lot of English) in the supermarket. Trolleys were used to batter down French resistance as we endeavoured to cross off products from the shopping list that stretched over two full pages of A4. Sorties by male old git to the fresh bread counter and, of course, the wine cellar managed to reduce the time a little, so by mid-afternoon we had the apartment heaving with goodies. This normally would have kept us going until we were due to leave in 6 weeks, but sadly, we knew that when they arrived it would only last 4 days at most.

Total confusion with flight times and the taxi meant younger sibling arriving several hours late. As he hadn’t eaten all day the stock pile had reduced to 3 days in a matter of minutes. However this was countered subsequently by a very successful day skiing with the youngster and we came home exhausted at trying to pace with him, although he wasn’t tired…he was hungry. 2 days of supplies left.

The eldest son also had confusion with the taxi and he didn’t arrive until the early hours; also very hungry. As he had a friend in tow who needed to kip down for the night some light refreshments were called for… We are now on bread and water rations for breakfast.
Old male git made a desperate dash to the supermarket and this time took the precaution of hiring a 40 foot low loader and fork lift truck to stock up. By the time I had returned the boy’s neat and tidy bedroom had looked like the aftermath of the first day of the January sales at Harrods; but this wasn’t all, they had started to spread throughout the apartment. However it is nice to see they still believe in Father Christmas and the magic of the festive time. Well, maybe not Farther Christmas and maybe not the festive season, but magic, yes. They leave used cups, plates, glasses all over the place knowing that the magical Mary Poppins will arrive and order dirty crockery to the sink, wash themselves and jump neatly back on the shelf…bless them.
Actually the sarcasm is not founded, for on the whole the family actually, by some miracle, does all pull together. That day after the supplies had been replenished we skied as a family and ended up with friends for a late lunch. It must have been altitude sickness that possessed us afterwards to head off to one of the hardest reds in the area. It had absolutely nothing to do with three bottles of Rose and a ruck of beer…
Strangely we felt quite gung-ho and enjoyed ourselves so much we only just made it back to the bottom of the mountain just before the lifts and pistes closed. Naturally after having such a wonderful day and with the family together, plus the added bonus of good friends, it meant that to miss the après ski would have been rude. Budget? What budget…?

Snow, more snow and chains

We spoke too soon. After 3 days of fabulous skiing we thought nothing could go wrong. The skiing was turning out to be the best we had ever done and the pregnant ducks were starting to look a touch more classy and adventurous. All good things come to an end and yesterday our luck ran out. Heavy snow over night, continuing during the morning, had made the roads virtually impassable. So we dug the car out, loaded up and ignored the conditions, or male old git did. Venturing off to the slopes we had to encounter a particularly steep and windy road.
“The car will never make it without the chains on,” nagged the female old git.
“Rubbish, its all down to technique…”
Several minutes later we were attempting to reverse the Mercedes saloon down the hill with traffic sliding all around us, the air blue with curses. “Good job I can’t speak French,” muttered the driver, as tension mounted in the car.
We turned round and headed down the hill towards the main road.
“I really think you should pull into the Chalet to put the chains on…” continued the nagging
“It’ll be alright,” as we slid past our chalet and onto the first serious bend.
An hour and a half later with the car straddled across the road the chains refused to fit round the tyre. (Even a person who knew chains gave up!)
By this time the snow ploughs had started to make some progress in clearing the snow and slush and every time they past all I heard was angry Gallic abuse. Friendly bunch really. I then inched my way down to the main road and back to the chalet where the car stands in a good foot of snow and as useful as a chocolate poker. (We had left our perfectly good Freelander back at home…bloody German cars!)
The landlord turned up as the white knight and gave us a lift to the slopes. Snow was falling and cloud had now enveloped the mountain; there weren’t many people about on the slopes, but we continued on our way to the top, regardless!
Bent double against the wind and our newly acquired goggles misting up we ventured, virtually blind, down the slopes. Within minutes the two white figures sat shivering alone on a chair lift still wondering where everyone had gone. At the top we saw virgin snow: wow, wouldn’t it be fun to ski in that! Undaunted by flat light and thick mist we continued our quest to ski, no matter what. Several skiers did pass us but clearly very experienced…pregnant duck territory had returned. Parallel turns seemed almost impossible as the skies buried themselves into the thick snow.
Eventually two hours later we realised we were a little out of our depth but the long ski back to the village did see some improvement and spirits rose.
‘Let’s try it again,’ cried the gleeful male, happy not to have broken anything. The answer was a withering glance and ‘chocolat chaud’ won the day…

For more information visit:

www.facts-oldgitsgapyear.blogspot.com

The Trip South

Sorry for the delay in posting but difficulty in loading up the web, so here goes:
Well the car did turn out to be the Tardis and with the Old gits finally finishing the packing & clearing, we tested the car suspension by driving down to the local pub; a mile away. Relief mingled with farewells, and far too much beer and wine was consumed, certainly as we had a five o’clock start. As usual I had to be at the Euro Tunnel several hours earlier than needed, (a habit that incenses my family), but it all turned out well as we were boarded on the earlier train. This was fortunate as our first night was in Epernay a lot further away than I had thought.
Our Sat Nav managed to find this small old chateau, a stones throw from Epernay’s Avenue De Champagne, still owned by Mr Chandon. In typical OGGY (Old Gits Gap Year) style we threw the bags into the room and headed into the old town. The continuing gloomy economic news at home meant we needed to deaden the pain so we found a champagne bar. We were of course just tasting the wine so we could buy a bottle or two, but with little food all day the result of a few sampling glasses must have looked quite amusing. Male old git knocked over a glass cutting himself and female couldn’t remember which ones we had tasted so we had to start again. Eventually we fell into the crisp night air which compounded our condition and we entered the nearest restaurant to try and soak up some of the wine…
The next morn we were walking down the Avenue de Champagne when we received a call from our eldest son to announce he had passed his final exam and was now qualified. We took the call standing out the Moet & Chandon Champagne House and we just had to go in and buy him a present…bang went the budget for the day, well actually nearly a ruddy week.
A pleasant three hour drive to Beaune saw a remarkably similar story as the previous night, only the colour of the wine was darker…
The weather was still very cold and the next day we made our way to Essert Romand, near Les Gets. Once again bags were hurriedly thrown into our apartment and we changed into ski wear and onto the slopes to meet our ski instructor. Not many slopes were open at this time of year and the incredible fall of snow had caught everyone by surprise, I had been lucky not to have used the infernal snow chains; but only just. One can never tire of an Alpine view; it really was a chocolate box scene. As you skied down a slope and with bright blue skies, white mountain peaks and wooden chalets clinging to the mountain sides, immersed in a shroud of white it took your breath away. You could hear the silence except when a group of noisy snow boarders descended past you to promptly sit in the middle of the piste, blocking your way.
Our instructor had expected a little better from us since we had last met, but we skied like tired pregnant ducks. He gritted his teeth as I announced I would hope to be carving down black runs after two lessons. He was too polite to comment. We returned to the chalet to unpack, via a supermarket and blew another week’s budget on food and drink, only to be faced with a power cut. Fortunately our landlord fixed the problem and the task of unpacking made the old gits mutter and curse as tiredness took over.
The next morning was sunny and crisp cold another ski lesson beckoned; we were here at last…

For more information visit:

www.facts-oldgitsgapyear.blogspot.com

The hour approacheth...

The Deadline express train is now rumbling down the tracks towards us and there is nowhere to hide! Walking has ceased and we are constantly on the canter but there is a very small light at the end of the tunnel…
My last job is to pack the car. The stack of cases and half the contents of the house that my wife has left by the door is enormous. “Did you know we are taking our car and not a long wheel base transit van?” came a begrudging moan from male old git struggling with kitchen sink, dining table, etc. “Oh stop your harping,” came the understanding reply as she trotted off to fetch some more. “It’s not the ruddy Tardis…” I shouted after her, only to be interrupted by my mobile phone.
It was our landlord in Les Gets. “Have you bought snow chains?”
“Yes, of course,” I replied.
“Well you’ll need them, its madness out here. Make sure you try them out before you come… You won’t get here otherwise.” I stopped packing the Tardis and quickly went to fetch the chains. They were in the spare tyre wheel compartment; quite useful to extract when the car is empty! Fifteen minutes later they were still lying limply around the wheel. I have come to the conclusion this exercise should be one of the main criteria for entering Oxford or Cambridge. However I convinced myself that they would be OK, only then to spend half an hour trying to get them back into the container…

The raison d'etre for the trip

To say that clearing out the family home is stressful is an understatement. Nerves are frayed as the endless list refuses to become any shorter and the fateful hour is closing in on us like an express train. The darn house never looked so good...even all the light bulbs work! A tearful farewell to our old retriever who has been homed at the neighbour's farm, which is being converted into horse racing stables. She has never had it so good with all the attention...

There are panic attacks and occasionally questions are asked why we are undertaking this trip, but then you spend 10 minutes chatting to some one in the West Indies and the adventurous spirit returns. But why are we leaving our home?

The main reason was a desire to travel and find places where one can enjoy the local culture but offer good value for money. Not 5 star, in truth our budget wouldn't stretch to this, but quality and an abundance of character. The trip has now extended to skiing in Alagna, Monterosa Italy and then 6 weeks island hopping around the West Indies. After this we are undertaking the 'Grand Tour' of Italy. Something I have always wanted to do since being taken down the Autostrada del Sole in a Ferrari as a 14 year old. Unfortunately we don't have the sports car but we can dream...