Higher Education

Quote: Gabrielle, on the discovery of an intimidating and inescapable slope: “Shit.”

I arrived at the foothills of the Alps, having once again set out from Paris, though this time just a few short hours ago and by train rather than bicycle. The green fields had turned a pristine white and all movement had been dulled, the branches held still by the weight of snow.

Peisey in the French Alps

I was met in the afternoon by Jamie, Nic’s godfather-uncle (who’s fame very almost matched that of Nic’s sister, with whom I am apparently to be one day entangled), but Clare and Rob, Nic’s grandparents, had been delayed, so we settled down to while away the hours together in the empty rural airport. While Jamie’s soft-spoken, impeccably polite demeanor was not what I was expecting for the renowned man of action (Summer sees him chasing big waves, while in Winter he is invariably to be found on untouched, off-piste slopes), I was nonetheless disappointed when our four hour conversation was cut short by Clare and Rob’s arrival.

I was mostly quiet during the two-hour ascent to Jamie’s chalet that followed as my attention was fixed on the rising blocks of darkness that quickly swam up on either side of the car. On the deeply overcast night, the mountains appeared as pitch blackness against the backdrop of a nearly totally dark sky. And they appeared big. I was pretty nervous about the coming week. I’m ok with meeting new people, but skiing is a different story altogether. You can’t laugh it off as just someone else’s opinion when you’ve broken all your legs, or talk your way out of being caught in an act of inadvertent indiscretion with a tree. My plan was to take things slowly and, above all, come home in one piece.

At the chalet, I met Katie, Jamie’s partner, along with Gab and Nic, who were looking surprisingly sprightly. In the two months or so since I had last seen them they had been to an incredible number of European cities, and had done it properly - hostels all the way. They had then arrived in Peisey about six days before me, and spent every moment on the slopes. All sounds like tremendous fun, but utterly exhausting. (Oh to be young again.)

With nearly a full week of formal schooling under their belts, Gab and Nic generously agreed to become my teachers. As skiers, the two are quite different. Gab (I am told) has the better technique but lacks daring (or is more rational, depending on your viewpoint), whereas Nic is happy to zip down mountains at breakneck speed, on piste or not, and is more or less indifferent to hindrances like grace and elegance. Likewise as teachers, they had different strengths. Gab was analytical, being able clearly and simply to explain what I was doing and how it differed to what I should have been be doing. Nic, on the other hand, had a great ability to counter my natural inclination to try to think my way through lessons by suggesting odd things to focus my concentration on. For example, instead of putting your weight here, leaning into a turn this way and at this point and coming out of it on this foot, he’d say touch your knee.

Grace and elegance

Together they did a great job and about halfway into my second session, I was flying down mountains at over 200km/h. We decided I was ready to move on to an actual run, and as I toddled down a blue one in emasculating fits and spurts, Gab flowed before me, like mercury down a marble run. The next day I was on red runs (skiing term, not medical) and on my fifth day, I secretly started zipping down the black ones. I’m still grinning as I write this. I can’t describe how addictive the whole thing is or how much more expensive my holidays are going to be from here on in.

Beyond the skiing, the company was first class and nights in were relaxed and entertaining. Jamie and Katie were perfect hosts, setting a tone of quiet comfort and skillfully maintaining a coherence among the group. Finally, we ate extremely well, courtesy of both the hosts and also of Clare, who’s Christmas spread was a triumph. The week could hardly fail to be a success, given the idyllic setting, but the party made it one to be cherished.

I gaze upon Mont Blanc while brushing my teeth

Come to think of it, I can’t think of any way it could all have gone better. We may even have played Monopoly at one point, in which case, I may have won.

Many thanks go to Jamie and Katie, whose generosity in inviting me to stay was matched only by their gracious hospitality while I was with them, and also to Clare, Rob, Gab and Nic for their company.

Best wishes to everyone for a lovely 2011,

Michael