20th-26th Februrary France (-9hrs Aus time)

What a week! After arriving tired, jet-lagged and a little stunned, I ended up having a wonderful and exhilarating 1st week - a great start to any trip! It was my 1st time on the snow (that counts - I was 3yrs old the last time), I expected it to be freezing cold and hard, but it really wasn't.

I had lessons everyday 11am-1pm with the beginners class. Luckily my instructor Nikolai spoke some english, and there was an English couple in the group as well. Try and picture what I was looking at (pic):  a relatively flat large area of snow covered in people also taking lessons or just skiing, facing the mountain on our left are 2 tirfesses (pulley's that bring you up the slopes) leading to a bigger and a smaller piste. I'd tried the bigger one yesterday and only just barely made it down (on my feet that is!). Funny how the slopes always look that much steeper and scarier when you're on top than when you're at the bottom. And straight in front of us is a 4-man chairlift that leads to the top of this section of the mountain (really just the start). And where do you think Nikolai points us? You got it - straight onto the chairlift! Now, to be fair, this is everybody elses 3rd day of lessons and they're rearing to go. Me, however, it's my 1st day really and jeez are you trying to kill me? but I'm game as always and follow the pack. This is where I learn that walking in ski's is a hard task. When I thought of skiing I thought I'd be giving my legs a workout. But it's my arms that are getting the real workout at the moment! Using the sticks to drag myself forward, brace so I don't slide backward, yank farward again whilst still bracing...it's better than a BodyPump class!

And when you finally get to the chairlift and fight through the crowd to the front it's not over. Then there's the matter of getting on the chairlift (slide forward but not too far, brace and wait for the chair to swing around and slam you in the knees, ouch the bruises!) and getting off (by far the harder to do without falling on your butt - it doesn't stop). When I got off the chairlift (I did fall, but not straight away - I plowed into some people 1st) I'm faced with 4 pistes (2 green and 2 blue). I spot Nikolai and join the group, only to have him take off straight away down a green slope. Well excuse me, but I thought this was supposed to be a lesson! But with no lesson in sight we're given no choice but to follow Nikolai down. (By the way, once up the chairlift there's no way to get down except by skiing so you can't just chicken out). I'm glad to find that the English couple are just as unimpressed by this as I am. Even though they have 2 days more lessons than I have, they're equally as unconfident, and we quickly take up the rear-guard position (by several minutes).

I manage to get through the 2 hours with reasonable improvement and a large black bruise on my right thigh (which for some reason I always fell on when I fell) as testamony. The English couple decide that these lessons are too much for them and bow out. That leaves me the only english-speaking person (the others are mainly polish and dutch) and holding the rear by myself.

On Wednesday Clare hurt her leg on one of the higher slopes, and I met her and Steve coming down a red piste that I had foolishly decided to try. After falling a dozen times in half-a-dozen metres I decided to join them walking slowly down (it's hard - you have to put your skis perpendicular to the slope and lean into the slope, stepping down little by little testing each before putting your weight on it), trying to ignore the people wizzing past on skis and snowboards and praying that they have more control than I had and can avoid us.

The last lesson is on Friday and there are now only 3 of us + Nikolai (the others finished on Thursday). So Nikolai decided to take us on a tour of the mountain. We went further than I'd thought I could, almost up to the top. We saw 2 other villages nestled in other parts of the mountain, and actually managed a black piste (although I didn't know it was black until afterwards - I probably wouldn't have been able if I'd know). At the end, Nikolai gave us our certificates saying we'd qualified from 1st Class. Brilliant! - we should have qualified Beginner's only but that last day had bumped us up a class!

On Saturday, we wake up to find a white wonderland (a cliche I know but it hadn't snowed yet so it was amazing) (see pics). I stood at the window for ages and then ran around outside in the snow. It's different from the skiing during the week - the sky had turned grey, the mountains had disappeared and snow was falling from the sky. We hd to pack and clean out the apartment so it was spotless. That took up most of the morning, and then we had to give up the keys and check out. Unfortunately, that left us sitting outside in the cold air for hours because Steve had run into difficulties dropping Granny and Joan off. The snow had delayed them and they'd missed their train which was to bring them to the airport. So Steve had to drive them an extra 2hrs to Lyon airport (4hrs round trip).

The drive to Ploermel was epic. Me, Alex and Morgan in the back, Steve and Clare in the front. 12 hours through the night across France and we arrived around 5am, falling greatfully into bed (any bed would do).