Category Archives: friends

Lazy weekends with sun

After a really dry & mild winter, some bright spark decided that most of the lower half of England was in drought. Naturally, it has pretty much rained since then. I haven’t been too perturbed as I’m still unable to get outside riding, or even running, & the rain makes a nice change & things are growing. Strangely, the last couple of weekend have had most of the week’s sunshine allotment so I’ve had a spot of walking in various different places.

The May Bank Holiday weekend was mostly a recovery from the Rome trip & delayed-flight consequences – but I did pop over to Poole (a couple of towns west) to visit Mum’s cousin Pamela. After a good lunch, many cups of tea & much catching up of recent travels & family gossip I popped down to Sandbanks for a stroll along the beach. There’s some pretty big homes down there, but I wasn’t surprised as I keep hearing how Harry Redknapp lives there. Apparently, by area it has the fourth highest property value in the world. But I just wanted to walk along the beach in the sun catching up on podcasts, not buy a house – so that is what I did.

Looking across towards Swanage

This must be a popular place in summer – those curious English things, beach-huts, were two-storied

This weekend just ending has mostly been spent eating & walking. Friday night I was around at (workmate) Henry’s place – I was trying to see if The Castle was funny outside of Australia & NZ circles. I didn’t hold out much hope as Henry has never seen the Holy Grail or The Princess Bride & therefore doesn’t understand a large percentage of my babbling. The film is looking really dated now (it’s been sometime since I’ve watched it), but I’m pleased to report that it was apparently funny from an Englishman’s point of view. We then set about making a pavlova while Nicole diligently wrote reports – there are many reasons I’m not a teacher, & taking work home is one of them.

A Full English (breakfast) Saturday morning necessitated a big walk along the Barton-on-Sea cliffs to Milford & then finding a route back home inland on the footpaths that dot the countryside, but don’t necessarily go in a straight line.

Across the Solent to the Isle of Wight

First barbecue of the summer at another workmate’s house back over on the side of the Forest where I live & we all work. It was just warm enough to spend most of the evening outside in a T-shirt (although I drew the line at shorts) eating much meat (the NZ lamb steaks were pretty good, it must be said). We retreated inside to devour the pavlova (the pavlova is only getting so much mention as it was the first I’ve ever had to make) & play boardgames.

Nicole destroyed the symmetry by not liking kiwifruit

Reading escape

Life post-operation has settled into a routine of coping with one usable arm – kind workmates give me lifts to & from work, not being allowed in the plant at work, shopping done online, groceries turning up, eating a variety of pre-prepared meals (which aren’t quite as bad as I expected), reading a lot of books & watching many series of Spooks. This isn’t too bad, the worst thing being that the weather has been exceptionally good (& unseasonal) lately – many afternoons spent outside in the sun eating lunch at work or reading at home after work with temperatures the high-teen or low-twenties. But one weekend of that was enough – there’s only so much walking around in the sun that one can do without getting itchy feet.

So it was up the line to Reading last weekend (only fifty minutes on the train) to finally see Anna & Luke (Anna being one of my sister’s best friends & the sister of one of my best friends). They’ve been over in these parts for about a year now & like most Kiwis over here, have many travel stories to share. It was great to see some faces from back home – including one I suppose I’ve known for over twenty years now, there’s a sobering thought. With my slight disability, there wasn’t much planned – but I was more than to happy to wander around a charming (big) town, up & down the Kennet & Thames rivers and eat ourselves silly.

Saturday was a little cloudier & cooler than recently, but coffee/hot chocolate in a coffee house dating back over five-hundred years on the nice big pedestrianised main thoroughfare warmed one somewhat. Luke & Anna have only just moved in to a new loft flat on a nice Georgian square. The architecture isn’t quite as regular I’d usually expect from that period, but it is charming all the same. The nice big lawn & garden right out their front door is quite a bonus. My left-handed attempt at using the camera on my phone is up to its usual standard, oops.

After dumping my bag, I was treated to Anna & Luke’s walking tour of the area. For the transport historian, the Great Western Railway and Avon & Kennet Canal were of note. After strolling past the prison, a ruined abbey & Forbury Gardens – home of the Maiwand Lion, which it turns out that the sculptor of didn’t kill himself over getting the gait or feet wrong – we popped in to the museum & got a brief history of the city from an amusingly dated video. Reading grew to prominence trading the three B’s – beer (Simmons), bulbs (mail order seeds) & biscuits (the home of Huntley & Palmers). More wandering took us to a great & large lunch beside the Kennet – the sticky toffee was incredible & apparently the brownie wasn’t too bad either.

After chilling back home for a while & remembering how to play Yahtzee, we were keen to head out to the cute village of Twyford – but still feeling full from lunch, headed out for another walk. This time we went further down the Thames & then cut over to Palmer Park (land donated by the biscuit family). Eventually we were in the car for the only trip that weekend & heading towards the Gaylord. This tandoori house was highly recommend by someone to Anna & as well as providing fantastic food & some interesting, almost dictatorial, service the name was the source of much amusement well into the next day. This lack of biking must be reducing my appetite – the amount I was able to take home with me was shameful. More great picture taking on my behalf, this one’s for you Adele.

Sleeping well considering the proximity of the Royal Berkshire Hospital & its ambulances, it was a slow start to a very sunny Sunday. When we did eventually head out for brunch, we found ourselves cut off from the centre of town by the Reading Half-Marathon. Luke was wishing he was out there, but couldn’t really do much about that as we waited for thousands of runners to thin out just so we get across the street without being trampled. My reward was Eggs Benedict – which I haven’t had in ages, yum. With more pottering around town in the sun, when Anna & Luke started itching to do something beyond my current capabilities, that is running – actually, I can’t/won’t/don’t run at the best of times – I left them to it & started my little trek back home. Turned out to be a bit more of it as I had to walk to West Reading station due to engineering work – I saw first hand why it was good Luke & Anna had moved from that area. A delightful weekend with good friends & a lot of outstanding food.

OK, this is from more gloomy Saturday

Three Valleys ski week

It was a little late in the season, but I finally got to go skiing this winter when a group of eight of us headed into the French Alps last week. With a teacher among us, we had to go during half-term which made things busier and a little more expensive. But I was more than happy to have someone else organise everything for a change & just pay my pounds – thanks Anna, you did a splendid job. Sunday was spent flying from Bristol to Lyon, picking up our rental van (which turned into a minivan & a car as someone had wrecked our van previously) & driving the couple of hours east. We had a pleasant little detour through small villages on the outskirts of Lyon before the satnav was taken off “avoid tolls” & we hit the motorway. We settled into the chalet that evening – pleasingly for our appetites & not so advantageous for our waistlines, it was fully catered.

My ski bag had been packed to the gunwales with all the warmth I could find as I nervously watched the icy grip winter had over Europe in the preceding weeks, but Monday dawned clear and a chilly -15ºCish – not the more than twenty below that I had feared. We piled in to the back of a Landrover (reminded me of a rather bumpy journey from Kathmandu towards Chitwan fifteen years ago) for the short run up to St Martin de Belleville & our access on to the slopes of the Three Valleys (Les Trois Vallees if my French was any sort of good). Billed as the world’s largest ski area (interconnected by lifts & slopes before anyone starts picking nits), it wasn’t long up the ridge before one could start to be amazed by the size of it. There are eight resorts connected by over a hundred and eighty lifts, & 600 km of trails. If that isn’t enough – there is so much terrain off-piste, that I’m still not sure I can comprehend it. I’m pretty sure that I rode more lifts in one week than there are in all of New Zealand.

We had quite a wide variety of experience in our group & it wasn’t long before we started to separate. I spent Monday with Andy & Rich trying to remember how to ski properly – turns out it’s just like riding a bike. Both Rich & Andy had been to the Three Valleys before, so I was happy to tag along & get my confidence back. We mostly stuck around Les Menuires & Val Thorens for the day (here’s a map).  It was a gorgeous, if a little cold, day with good views that I couldn’t get enough of. With half-term there were a few queues, but not as bad as we had feared – & there was always somewhere else to explore further from the crowds.

We managed to get back to where Spike (our host) had dropped us off, in the morning, well before the lifts closed & it wasn’t long before we heard the others had miscalculated just how long it took to get back from Val Thorens & were stuck well up the valley when they missed a lift by two minutes. It sounded pretty cold (well, colder – it was pretty cold to start with) once the sun dropped & they were faced with finding a bus back down the valley.

Surprised to find that I wasn’t aching more after more than nine months off the skis, it was a slow start to the day as there was general faffing around waiting for James (a manager of the chalet) to show a few of us around. Most of our group had to head back to meet others for lunch leaving Andy & I to explore some more interesting runs & a bit off-piste. That slowed me down a little; over lunch in Les Menuires we met up with John & Rich (who had gallantly been giving a little boarding help to Sally, a beginner in our group).  The afternoon was a little more relaxed as with so much terrain, there are inevitably flat bits – which tend to slow boarders down more.

The great weather didn’t continue into Wednesday – but that was fine as it snowed all day & it was still coming down for most of Thursday. Visibility was pretty poor on Wednesday morning particularly – I had a good few falls for no apparent reason as my inexperience showed through. At least Rich has the excuse of failing eyes for not being able to see anything when the light is flat. Still we managed to make it into Courchevel for lunch, somewhat inadvertently – where we feasted on hamburger buns, a wheel of the cow cheese & bananas as we sat on a stack of pallets outside the Spar (little supermarket). With a good whiteout & still two valleys to get out of before getting close to St Martin, we made a beeline for what turned out to be the emptiest run we’d seen yet. Maybe it was just the clouds, but there was no one up the top of Roc de Fer.

Rich being visible on an otherwise low-vis day

Proof from Rich that I was actually there skiing – no idea where this was

It wasn’t long into the week where the change in diet, exercise intensity & who-knows-what-else had me fighting off a sore throat & cold. Somehow, it never really turned up with more vengeance than a runny nose – unfortunately, Rich got hit a bit harder & had the morning off while Andy, Anna & I headed out into Thursday’s clouds & fresh powder. Anna was keen to get to Courchevel & Andy & I hadn’t seen all that much of it on Wednesday – so we stayed relatively low and got some good runs in by lunchtime. The slopes were emptier with the clouds sticking around, so we got more of the fresh powder to ourselves.  After an over-priced chocolate crepe for lunch, we headed over to Meribel to play off-piste in the trees & generally have a bit of a laugh. There was finally some reward for me having lugged around big skis for the week – I didn’t hit any trees (not through much doing of mine, I might add).

It’s hard to get a photo of Andy, good or otherwise, as he was always in front

The trees were looking pretty too

After getting back to the correct valley, we messed around in the new snow on the huge off-piste expanse below the Jerusalem run.  This proved extra amusing as we still couldn’t see much and the snow was quite variable depending on where the wind had got to.  But there was just enough light to be able to see each other hilariously falling over – thanks for not crashing into us though, Anna.  That was the best day yet – great to be skiing continually good distances (on the days the GPS trackers were with us, we were covering between forty & fifty miles) & with two much more experienced skiers than me, I was slowly improving.

With that weather gone, Friday was back to being gorgeous & just for a change it was remarkably warm – owing in part still dressing for -10ºC. With John in tow as well, we first headed back off of Jerusalem to see if we could do any better with a bit of vision. Funny how being able to see things helps a lot.

Anna doing a better impression of someone not falling over off-piste

Wanting to see the big wooden ram off the back of Pointe de la Masse, we made our way over there again. Almost there we stopped & sunned ourselves over lunch (masses of deckchairs was something I didn’t get used to seeing – it skiing, it’s supposed to be cold):

Andy had had his eye on a big unmapped area off the back of the ram for most of the week.  After some discussion, it was decided that we would all head down there.  We weren’t too sure where it went, but figured that it would take us roughly back to Les Menuires.  It was a good variety of moguls, powder, worn tracks  & eventually a groomed run that dropped us a thousand metres to the valley floor.

Val Thorens is down there – the highest ski resort in Europe apparently

John & Anna in front of one of the many random summer building dotted around the area

Towards Les Menuires

Perhaps these two weren’t the best influence on my skiing after all – relaxing on one of the last runs of Friday

After sweltering a lot of Friday as we worked harder off-piste, it was definitely well worth shedding a layer & even going so far as to ditch the goggles & don sunglasses for our last day on Saturday. Saturday is the traditional change-over day for ski packages, but we were travelling Sunday to Sunday – this meant that we missed the crazy traffic off the mountains & got a day of bliss on empty trails. Andy & I were keen to head for the highest point (& also one of the edges) of the Three Valleys to end our stay – somehow, a slowly recovering Rich was convinced to join us.

But first – the group photo: Andy, Rich, Anna, Becks, Marina, Sally, me & John

Heading out for what would be a stunning day

This cable car took us part way to the highest point – there were only about a hundred skiers on it

Mont Blanc

We eventually got to the summit of the ski area, just below Pointe du Bouchet, at 3230m.  The runs out there were empty & we just had to head up twice as the snow conditions were fabulous.  On one of those chairs up, something clicked in my head while watching much-more-elegant-than-ungainly-me skiers.  Working hard to keep my knees closer together, my skiing took a step-change & the rest of the day was great as speed, control & smoothness improved.  There was another great big run back down off the ridge that that large cable-car above serves, before we lunched in the sun in Val Thorens.  The afternoon was spent in Meribel, as Andy & I had neglected it somewhat for most of the week.  With one last frenetic run down Jerusalem, we wound up what was the best day’s skiing of an excellent week.

That’s a bit of a mammoth post, but if you couldn’t tell – it was an incredible week in a great ski area, with fantastic snow, good weather & an excellent group of people. I’m well pleased that my skiing improved suddenly & even more chuffed that my shoulder stayed put. It was one of those weeks of such intensity of activity & enjoyment that remind me why I’m so far from home – something that will be well up on the highlights list of my travels & that I’ll be able to tell stories about when I finally return to NZ. Pretty close behind the Mara. On that note I should probably go to bed – thanks are well in order for all those that made that week.

Catch up

It was yet another trip up to London last, New Year’s, weekend. This time to drop Mum off at Heathrow for her return to NZ & see if I could find something to do for my completely unplanned New Year’s. For some reason, Levi & Marki didn’t make it to Krakow to see in the New Year. Actually that reason was it was too difficult to get from where ever they were skiing near Salzburg to Poland. But that worked out in my favour as they had a little gathering at theirs, so I braved the trains into the city. As always with Marki & Levi’s hospitality, I was extremely well fed & it was a good evening – even if I didn’t understand any of the multitude of eastern-European languages (but then no-one but Levi & I understood the Te Puke stories). We wandered up to the building’s roof to get a view of many of the various fireworks displays dotted around London as we opened champagne that kept multiplying.

Some sort of Czech food that was very tasty

Levi & Marki – on the remote chance any TP people are interested

Sunday I made the trek back home to Sidcup & generally sifted around seeing if a) Mum would fit all her things in her suitcase & b) how late we would be leaving for the airport. She did, & it was only 45 minutes – which I was quite impressed with. But we had plenty of time up our sleeves for a trying wet drive around the M25 before a tearful goodbye as Mum flew back to the other side of the world. As it turns out, it was well timed as a couple of days after Mum arrived home I got the sad news that my much-loved Grandma passed away after a prolonged slide into dementia. For me, I had about three years of being far removed to deal with the fact that I wouldn’t be seeing Grandma again. Still, as I said during all those earthquakes, it’s times like these that make one feel the furtherest from home.

On a note that will cut closer to the bone, I have a date for my shoulder op – February 21. It will be so nice to get it much more stable – although I’m sure it will come with a lot of sacrifices. Driving, riding & generally being armless come to mind.