Diario: Tuesday Ten

Ten pictures from Sauze d'Oulx

On Saturday, Rachael and I are off skiing to Sauze d'Oulx. It will be my sixth visit there but my first this early in the season and my first without a coachload of teenagers. Sauze holds a very special place in my heart because it was the first place I went skiing as an adult, back in 2006. Here's my 2006 blog rundown of that trip, which pre-dates this iteration -

Skiing was amazing, though. It came back to me surprisingly quickly - the whole kick-your-heels-up-the-mountain thing to stop, snow ploughing, falling over…easy peasy. The first day was pretty bleak; it snowed all day and by the end we were all soaked through (wet April snow) and freezing and very miserable. On top of that, the basic run took us 90 minutes to complete and nobody could see more than a few feet ahead of them. One girl was so blinded by the snow she skied straight off the path and down a snow drift. We all looked on complacently as the ski instructor pulled her out. The next day, when visibility was clear, we realized exactly what she'd nearly fallen down, and a whole new page to my risk assessment for next year was born.

Anyway, by the end of Monday I was deeply regretting booking a trip. I was very fed up, and not finding the other staff overly friendly (well duh…they'd only met me the day before, and we'd been up all night on the coach together), and feeling pretty sorry for myself. So I drowned my sorrows in a vat of red wine, and had to ski the next day with the dehydration that represents the worst hangover symptom I ever suffer from. This was more of a problem than it sounds - I didn't want to drink too much water and risk having to wee in a ceramic hole halfway up a mountain whilst clutching my jumpers, t-shirt and jacket to me in a vain attempt to keep them from soaking up the waste products of previous weak-bladdered skiers; but on the other hand I had the whole dry-mouth, whirly-world thing going on. Thankfully (!) by this point the bus had completely broken down, so we had to walk to the ski lift - 20 minutes uphill - by which point I was feeling more human. From Tuesday on we had the most glorious sunny weather, and it didn't break until Saturday when we had a little more light snow.

Honestly, I could wax lyrical about my trip for pages. I could tell you about the competitive kids who were always cutting me up. I could tell you about the instructor ("My very compliments to you Sally…Sally ees very nice person, yes, you kids agree with me, yes?"). I could tell you about skiing in the slalom race and coming 3rd in my group and winning the bronze medal. I could tell you about the copious amounts of red wine we quaffed every night. I could mention the night at the pizza place, the morning in Bardonecchia watching boarders attempt the Olympic half-pipe (and one very athletic skier). I could even, if you really wanted, give you a blow-by-blow account of the 12 hour coach journey back, and how we missed our ferry because the girls were too squeamish to use the hole-in-the-ground toilets at the service stations and insisted on queueing up for the disabled loo. But I'm not going to. I'll save it all for next year's trip.

Fell down a diario hole reading through my 2006 blog. I was very funny, obviously, but also, wow, life as a teacher was wildly different. Also, that 90 minute run, I can now complete in well under 5 minutes. I might time myself next week, just for comparison.

After the 2006 inspection visit with another school, I didn't come back until 2009, when I brought my school two Easters in a row. Then I brought my new school in 2018, when I took control of the ski trip, and then the infamous 2023 trip that involved the 58 hour coach journey. I'm delighted to find we're going to be staying opposite the hotel we went to for the last two trips, it's very near to a lift. I'm excited about being able to ski to town level and do actual apres. I'm hoping there will be some sort of seasonal ski show. I'm desperate to ski all the way to France and back in a day. And, of course, I can visit my favourite cake shop down the mountain.

Here are the pictures. It took some digging.

1. 2006. Ski clothes loaned to me by the tour operator. Recognise the t-shirt?

2. Someone from the forum knitted me this hat. No helmet because why would you. No goggles. Gloves not mittens (ugh, sacrilege). That magic little super speedy two man chair that left bruises on the back of your legs.

3. 2009. With my own school. There's a second version of this picture where we've all collapsed into each other. The absolute best ski trip buddies of all time: this was the first of (I cannot believe it was only) four trips together.

4. This cafe though.

5. 2010. Same two-man chair. Helmet now because I tried to buy boots on the first day and they couldn't find any to fit me, so I bought the helmet instead. Then got boots the next day.

6. There's a great picture of me skiing by with my poles on my head, wind whipping up my helmetless hair, but I had to put in a deckchair one, obvs.

7. 2018. Helmet (second one: 2014 purchase) and goggles because I was so heavily influenced by my ski trip buddy Tom and now I can't ski any other way. I had to put in a snowy one, obvs. This was my first trip with the new school and I wanted to go somewhere where I felt confident.

8. New ski trip buddies. Alex's first time skiing. This was costume day and I am meant to be Wonderwoman. I had an argument with piste patrol about the correct treatment for one of my students, and won it. I was only wearing sunglasses because it was lunchtime, honest.