French Pyrenees

Last month I went on my first ski trip in Europe to the French Pyrenees. My friend Mathilde's parents have a house at Saint Lary-Soulan about 2 hours from her home town of Bordeaux. With a super cheap flight on Easy Jet and a free place to stay, this ski trip was a no brainer.

My week went something like this:

We land in Bordeaux and it is 24 degrees - Celsius (75F!). Not good for snow conditions but the mountains were hours away. We swing by Mathilde's house to pick up a car and Mathilde's mother has purchased enough food for the 6 of us for a week - meats, cheeses, wine, bread, champagne, fruits, pasta, vegetables, yogurts, chips, granola, more bread, more wine, more cheese... She even pre-made some side dishes and baked us some mini cakes and cookies. I ate like the French all week, trying duck dishes like confit-cassoulet and yogurt from sheep (which is creamy and rich and tastes like Greek yogurt).

We made the drive to the Pyrenees and arrived at night and I couldn't believe the path down to the house. Mathilde turned off the road and I had to close my eyes. The path was as wide as the car and went at pretty much a 45 degree angle. The fact that the left tire hugged the hill and on the other side of the right tire was a sloping mountain didn't seem to phase her. Yikes.

Path to the house on a snow day

View from the terrace

LOTS of wine, bread and cheese

Loading the car in the AM

Day 1 of skiing: I'm not sure if I have ever skied in hotter weather. It's roasting, the sun is shining and the snow is slushy.

Day 2 of skiing: Sun is still shining but it's a tad windier. Have lunch by a lake and lay on the grass, napping and soaking in rays

Just visiting

Day 3: Wake up with a horrible cold. Decide cannot ski, and wind up reading in the intermittent sunshine on the terrace all day long. Some new sheep friends came to join me at one point by the terrace.
Day 4: In the morning we can not see anything out the window. The fog is thick, clearing slightly, but as we head out we realize the conditions on the mountain are not good. We could literally not see 3ft in front of us while coming down.
Day 5: Snowy, cold, foggy. Thank god I bought goggles yesterday.
Day 6: Fantastic new snow. Best day of skiing of the week.

 
I learned quickly that the ski lifts in France don't slow down when they're coming around the turn. The first time I got whacked in the calves and thudded into the seat with the force of the moving chair. Welcome to France. Apparently, after you've pushed your way into the spot where you're next in line (no orderly progression here), you have to ready yourself and put your hand out and hold the seat then sit on it otherwise it will take you down without mercy. The other thing about this resort was the prevalence of the tow rope style lifts. They were everywhere and I'm not a big fan since they're uncomfortable and allow no rest for your legs in between runs. The runs were not very challenging and a lot of the black runs were closed due to lack of snow. I had fun nonetheless, but I think I'd like to try the Alps next which are higher and which allow for better snow conditions. 


It was an relaxing trip, and a very French and local one as this was not a touristy spot and practically no one spoke English although being about 5 miles from the Spanish border, I did get to use that a bit.


The Pyrenees are the perfect escape....

Snow fall the day we leave

St. Lary-Soulan

Locksmith

The locks on the doors to English homes drive me absolutely crazy. You'd never realize how much you'd miss having a simple, flip of the wrist deadbolt on your door until you don't have one any more.

English houses only have doors that will lock and unlock from the inside with a key. This means you can't ever open your front door from the inside without one.

If someone comes to the door, and you go to open it forgetting its locked you have to fumble around with your guest waiting outside while you search for where you put your keys down. This sometimes leads to a lot of awkward waiting for the said guest as you shout through the door apologising while they wait outside in the cold because you can't seem to find them. If you're trying to leave the house and you're carrying a lot of things, you need to put everything down, find keys, unlock door, pick up your things, walk out the door, put your things down again, lock the door, and then go on your merry way.

One of my immediate realizations after a week living in my house was the possibility of the need for keys on the inside being a fire hazard. When I pointed this out though, I was reminded that I can easily climb through the windows. Oh, I forgot, my windows don't have screens. I guess I'll have to retrain my brain to remember that the window is the fastest way out of my house.

I haven't seen a single home in Oxford that doesn't have a front door that looks like this from the inside...