Winter sun

During the night, yesterday's mist cleared. Dawn was another spectacle of awe and wonder, with first light striking alpine peaks fifty miles to the south of us, as the crow flies. Valdo was up and out early in search of bread, and having obatined for a us a pain torsade (a kind of hard crusty baguette made with strong white whole-meal flour), he took himself and his skis off on mission of piste inspection before we had breakfast. By eleven we were both out enjoying the bright sunshine and slightly warmer temperatures, covering the same course as we had previously. We returned for a late lunch. I was relieved not to have fallen, as my shoulder was still hurting, though not so bad as to immobilise me.

After eating we strolled down the pedestrian path alongside the piste to les Rasses, which was very quiet at the end of an afternoon during a not too popular week for visitors. We stopped to appreciate the view from the terraace of the Grand Hotel des Rasses an imposing post war building with impressive, shall we say expensive views to the south. It looked as if it was open, though seemed deserted upon inspection. There was just one guest on a third floor balcony, out inspecting the view of sundown over the alps, as we were in the garden below. We watched the distant peaks turn from white to gold as the sun inched towards the horizon, ten turned for home as the temperature plummeted and ground underfoot quickly became icy.

A perfect sunny winter's ay at 1,200 metres altitude.