Alp-ino

We interrupt your regularly scheduled Christmas holiday update to bring you this last weekend update.

Currently (aka the Tuesday after this weekend happened, which was February 15), these are the parts of my body that ache:
My right leg, mid shin (also bruised)
My left leg, mid shin (convinced there's a bruise just below the surface)
My armpits
My triceps
A spot on my right buttcheek where I have a bruise
The inside of my right knee where I have a bruise
My adductors

Why, though, friends?  It is because I decided to go skiing for the first time in 12 years.  (That's a guess.  It is maybe more than that.)  It is also because I decided to do downhill skiing for the first time in my life.  Many moons ago, Anne and Lew decided to take Alex and me on a trip to Mammoth (because California is the greatest state and has everything you want in terms of climates).  Here's what I can remember about the trip: driving in the middle of nowhere, being in snow that was so deep people had shoveled pathways that were taller than I, cross-country skiing lessons with pine trees covered in snow.  I remember taking the lessons.  I don't remember learning anything.
               Something about this made me think that it would be a good idea to email Flo last week and ask if I could come along for a weekend at their chalet.  Of course, she obliged.  So on Friday afternoon, I got on the bus to the train and waited outside for an hour (because the waiting room is under construction.  Also because I usually have to wait outside.) and got on the train to Geneva.  Magically, I was on the train with Nicole's son, Hadrian, but I didn't know it until it was too late.  Tant pis.
               I got into Geneva no problem and waited for Flo to arrive after work.  I talked to my sister the whole time.  Well, not actually.  First, I went to the Relay to buy some chocolate to give to my students for Valentine's Day.  What a rip.  I paid 13 CHF (basically $13) for a bag of Lindt.  I know it's delicious and all, but get rizzy.
              Anywho, Flo and I went back to her place and had a lovely meal with Gregoire, Antoine, and their friend, Axel who lives just around the riverbend from them.  (Please note that they do not actually live on a river.  They live in the 'burbs, but be reasonable.)  So after our dinner of ribs, salad, some kind of vegetable galette that was delicious, and some potatoes.  All from downstairs, obvio.  After dinner, we said goodbye to Snoopy (who's en chaleur) and hit the road.
              Two hours later we arrived in St. Luc and sat down for some lovely cake that Papi Xam (pronounced ck-sahm) had brought with him from Lausanne.  It was delicious.  Then, Flo and I set up my bed, and we all hit the sack.

Hi!  I'm St. Luc, and I look like a storybook.

             The next morning, Antoine and I walked to the village boulangerie for some bread and eggs.  They only had 2 eggs left, so Antoine sent me back with the bread and 2 eggs while he continued onto the "big" supermarket for more eggs.  When he got back and when everyone was awake, we had some breakfast of soft-boiled eggs (of course), bread, and jams.  I also had some verveinne tea as my throat was threatening to be a problem.  After breakfast, Antoine told me he had turned off his alarm at 7:30 because he was too tired.  So he wouldn't have time to do his homework before skiing.  That is so not how the Lew Williams house operates, but I kept that to myself.  Antoine, Greg, and Axel scooted off to the slopes while Papi Xam worked hard to get rid of the ice on the patio next to the chalet.  I played this game that involved navigating a metal ball around holes in wood for a bit.  Then Papi Xam came back inside and the three of us had cappuccinos before Papi Xam headed back out to the ice.  Flo and I then had a discussion about Swiss bank laws and the European Union.
            When Papi Xam came back inside, I tried on some ski boots (first Flo's, then his) and got myself geared up: Greg's green pants, two thermals, and a massive coat.  Also Greg's socks.  So we made the walk.  It was horrifying.  Those boots are not comfortable.  I think maybe my legs were not intended to be in ski boots since they cut into my calves/shins at such odd places that it was painful and I legitimately have a bruise on my right shin where they met.  Anyway, they make you feel like you're walking on the moon.  But with gravity.  Flo, Papi Xam, and I made the short walk up the hill to the locker room where we each took out some skis and then got onto the funiculaire to get to the ski area.  Carrying the skis was a mess.  But not as much of a mess as me trying to go up and down the stairs in my heavy moon boots and carrying the skis was.  Whatevs, though, the view was pretty.

Takin' me higher and higher!  (higher!)

            While everyone got off and went to the right, we went to the left.  Flo said it was because there were less people.  And I believe her.  I was a hazard.  So, Papi Xam (in regular walking shoes and with 2 ski poles/batons) walked next to us while Flo and I (with much difficulty on my end) made our way up the gentle slope to go up the lift to a fairly easy piste.  For a while it looked like I was on a Nordictrack instead of actually moving.  Eventually, though, I managed.  Flo went up on the lift with no problem.  Thinking highly of myself, I decided to follow her lead.  I put the little seat between my legs and zoomed up.  WAY too fast.  I fell sideways back down to the bottom.  The Italian accented man told me to try again, so I did.  I got a bit further and then slid face down back to the bottom.  By this time, Flo had skiied back down on the actual course and met me at the loading point.  The man said we should go to the "baby piste" and come back later.  Owned.
         Now Anotoine showed up and the four of us made our way down.  Only, I couldn't get my life together so Flo had to ski down to the baby slope with me between her legs.  Yep.  It was that kind of weekend where it's just all mess all the time.  So anyway, we made it to the baby slope and it was mostly empty for now, which was fantastic for me.
         After Antoine went up on the lift, Flo helped me catch a seat, and I made it up to nearly the top on the lift.  But Antoine told me to disembark a bit trop tôt (too early), and so I slid down the hill a bit.  But don't worry.  I didn't crash!  Some random English speaking woman basically coached me to the flat bit of land.  So then Antoine and I went over the basics, aka how I should try to keep my skis in the shape of a pizza.  Alright.  We'll try that.  So we did.  The way this slope was laid out was that on the right, you had mountain side.  On the left you had death side, where if you went over the edge, goodbye working legs!  So when we were turning, I go really good at turning right.  So good that I crashed into the mountain.  And fell.  Flo watched and enjoyed me all day.
        Antoine I think basically didn't know what to do with me and peaced out to go to the snow park, where there are ramps and fancy tricks and no embarrassing non-snow bunny Americans.  So Flo continued with her efforts.  We went up and down again and again and again.  Here's how it went:

Up!  Sans balloons.

Success at the top of the mountain!  Me: "I'm the Queen of the world!"

World's response: "No.  You're not."

After nature finished kicking my ass for the first few hours, it was time for lunch.  Luckily, Papi Xam had staked out a killer table on the deck of the station's restaurant.  We went for a sit.  I was SO glad to be taking off those skis.  I really can't even express.  Eventually, Axel, Greg, et Antoine came to sit with us.  They gots some foods and started eating.  Flo and I then went to get some grub as well.  The prices at this place are completely ridiculous.  The food was alright but nothing to write home about, to be sure.  Furthermore, it was self-serve!  But when you pay 9CHF for some fries, you expect at least potato wedges.  But nah.  Not here.  This is Switzerland where everything is ooc (out of control) expensive.  So anyway, I got green beans wrapped in bacon (Bert) and mashed potatoes.  Papi Xam had a small bottle of wine.
            After the meal, the boys went on to ski some more but Flo fell asleep.  Then so did Papi Xam (and he also started to snore/ronfler a bit), so I was like, why not?  And I put a glove over my face, put my boots up on the chair, and "rested my eyes."  After the sieste (actually the French way to say "nap"), Flo and I headed back out while Papi Xam headed home.  Don't worry, though.  The afternoon was basically more of the morning.  So, my body loves me.
          When we got home, Papi Xam was in the midst of chopping vegetables for his homemade soup.  Flo went in for a nap.  I played more of the metal-ball game.  Then the dudes came home from skiing.
          Before dinner, Papi Xam and Antoine started cutting this bread that is typically Swiss.  They make it twice a year, and it lasts for ages.  It's got potatoes in it.

He was smiling in the first one.  But what's really important to acknowledge is the saw he's using to cut the bread.

This was a legitimate thing that happened.

We had the soup, followed by chicken, followed by more of the cake.  STUFFED.  Then Antoine pulled out this card game called 1000 bornes that made 0 sense and took forever.  Until everyone started cheating.  Then it went really quickly.  Then twas time for bed.  Except no it wasn't for Axel and Greg who snuck out to go to this bar with some other skiiers while Flo was on the phone with Olivier.  (Because Greg is a master and put her on the phone with him shortly after she said he couldn't leave the house at 10pm to go to a bar.  What a winner.)
         Sunday started with breakfast: bread, jams, soft-boiled eggs, and a rectangle of chocolate.  Noms.  Then, Greg and Axel headed to the slopes while I helped Antoine with his English homework.  I'm good for something!  (NB: This something is not skiing.)  That took about 5 minutes since there were 14 questions.  Flo then helped Antoine with his German homework.  In Switzerland, kiddies have to take German and English if they live in the French-speaking part of the country.  In all of the areas, they have to take English, because that's imperialism.  In France, also, they have to take 2 languages.  Yet another reason the US will be taken over.  And that China will take over New Zealand.  (Glenn Beck reference. Thank you Rachel Maddow podcast aka my main source of news.)  After Antoine skipped out to go skiing, Flo took a shower, had a nap, and started to do some housework.  She sent me to the market to get snausages for the barbeque we were going to have at the snow park for luncheon.
           On the walk, I stopped to get some postcards and to take some photos.

Materhorn is visible!  On the left!

When I got back, Flo was mid-vacuuming.  I tripped on the vacuum.  Oh, life.  Anyway, the three of us (Flo, Papi Xam, and I) headed to the snow park.  I had decided to not go skiing because my body said no to ski bottes/boots.  We made a massive hike up the hill to the snow park.  Sometimes our legs completely sunk.  It was great to be wearing snow boots.  Blah blah blah we made it up there.  Papi Xam had taken another path (a bit safer) and when he made it, sat down for a bit.  Flo caught up with a friend from St. Luc, and I just enjoyed the view.

The hills are alive!  (Isn't it lucky that the Von Trapps wanted to escape during the summer?)

So while Antoine went down to get some wine for Papi Xam and Flo (I abstained because apparently one of my fears--in addition to houseflies and falling down stairs/cracking my teeth--is falling down a mountain), Flo and I threw the dogs on the barbie and kicked back.  I could have gone in closer for a view like Flo's friend's daughter did, but I didn't feel like tumbling down a hill Wesley style.

Horribly frightening for apparently only me.

So we had some grub while we enjoyed the entertainment of watching people do tricks.  The guy in charge of the snow park for the day was also playing some sweet beats like Robyn.  But also played some horribly depressing rap songs about people getting cheated on and cutting yourself.  I think that the impact of English lyrics are often lost on French listeners.  [There is an episode with a similar moral of the story to come in the rest of my Christmas post, which will (fingers crossed) be up some time tomorrow.]
            Here are some tricks seen on them slopes.  The first is Antoine.  And the second is Greg.  Music courtesy of Swiss boy.


The sound at the end of Greg's is of Flo and me being embarrassed about the landing.  Ah well.  I really shouldn't be embarrassed since my whole day was embarrassing, but I digress.
             We went back to the chalet, and Flo went for a nap.  I played AND WON! the metal ball game. And I put it down never to play it again.  Eventually, everyone was home.  We had leftover soup, cleaned up a bit, said adieu to Papi Xam, and then hit the road back to Bogis-Bossey (where Flo lives).  We got in around 10pm.
             Antoine, Olivier, and Greg presented Flo with her birthday gift: a certificate announcing the imminent arrival a treadmill.  Oh yeah.  The next day (Valentine's Day) was Flo's birthday.  Then Flo and I Skyped with the Williams Home on the West Coast for Large Things.  To bed by midnight to get up at 5 to be on my 6:28 train to Culoz where I had a 40 minute layover for my one stop to Virieu where I hopped on the bus and got home for a nap before classes.  Great weekend.
          A week and a half later, only the shin and knee bruises/bleus remains.
Healingly,
Yessica