french breakfast

Morning eating has always struck me as a bit strange, necessary and enjoyable but a bit strange.  

For the rest of the day we pick and choose and discuss our eating requirements, having vastly different things from meal to meal as our moods take us.  Big dinners with numerous courses, light lunches,  snacks, just a little bite - ‘coz I’m not really hungry right now, afternoon tea with sandwiches and sausage rolls and slices of cake, an endless choice of salads in the summer because it’s hot, numerous soups and stews to warm us through in the winter.  Indian, Chinese, Thai, Italian, Greek, its all there to choose from.

And then there is breakfast.  For most of my life I have had a bowl of cereal, rarely varying the type, with cold milk and a little sugar.  Maybe swapping to porridge in the winter.  Toast, one with marmite one with marmalade and a cup of tea, two if there is time.  Then occasionally at the weekend a late start with a Full English but that is definitely an exception to the rule.  It’s a tried and tested routine, easy and well rehearsed and how I see most English people starting their day.  The thought of having loads of different things or the choice of other sorts of food does not seem to appeal or even register in our thought processes that often.

There is amusement here, at times, especially with breakfast observations.  To start with it is more continental, bread, jam, cheese etc, and definitely coffee rather than tea.  There is an industrial sized coffee percolator and a hot water urn, a selection of teas and infusions, hot chocolate powder and hot milk. Plates, bowls and cups are put out for self service. Tables laid out with the obligatory paper place mat, cutlery jam, butter, sugar and cheese.  We offer cereal, Cocoa Pops seem to be favourite, and Porridge for those that want to try it.  Oats are regarded as donkey food here and there is much discussion as to this strange English, or I guess more correctly, Scottish breakfast dish.  A good source of energy, it fills you up and keeps you warm.  Just a small bowlful with a little sugar will keep you going until lunchtime. 

Guests help themselves and coffee, tea and chocolate which they put into the  bowls so that there is plenty of room to dunk bread and jam.  

Serve themselves cereal, with hot milk, in cups and then only drink the resultant brown milk, leaving the cereal to be thrown away.  

Porridge is consumed in a similar fashion, the best combination we have seen is with plenty of chocolate powder stirred in.  Tried it and it had the consistency of concrete after a few seconds. 

Full cups of coffee will be left when tables are abruptly abandoned for no particular reason, along with slightly nibbled pieces of fruit, half yoghurts, prepared baguettes with butter and jam.  Do people just forget what they have started? or does their food become momentarily invisible in the rush to go skiing?  We puzzle these things but may never know.  The spread of bread crumbs, jam and other detritus is also impressive for the amount of time people pend at their tables each morning.

It is interesting to observe how other nationalities take their breakfast, what the procedures and norms are and how we cling to our own morning routine as closely as we do.  I guess it is part of the comfort of emerging into the start of a new day.

Oh, and a new one this morning, bread with drinking chocolate powder sprinkled on it, real thick, like a layer of snow.  MMmmmmm

Ski days

The last line of my previous entry paints the wrong picture of live here at Chalet Lou Rider.  Now that the snow has improved, skiing has become a major part of most days that we have few guests.  Usually getting any tasks done during the morning and having a very early lunch to be out on the hill by noon.

Joe and I have almost reached a routine on how we start our time on the snow.  Choosing two chair lifts rather than the cabins gets us higher up the mountain at a much faster speed, delivering us nearly to the top of the resort.  A slight downside to this is the time spent outside, in the shade, before we have had chance to get moving and warm, the short walk from the chalet is hardly enough for that and on cold days the windchill can be quite impressive.  It is, however, always worthwhile and the views from the top are breathtaking, especially on clear sunny days.

Our start is probably all wrong, but the chosen route is a magnificently steep red run that drops off the side of the peak for several hundred feet before levelling off onto a beautifully undulating, almost sedate, blue run that takes us right into the hub of the resort.  That first drop, fresh off the lift, is enough to get the heart pumping and a bit of warmth into the muscles, a reminder of the exhilaration yet to come and a great start to the excitement ahead, we then glide, with minimal effort, down the gentler slopes, gathering speed for the flatter stretches to save poling or lolloping along like a seal ( in the case of snowboarders) and fitting in some decent turns when the incline allows.

Straight to the main lift, a swift, modern, 6 man chair that takes us to the top of the first ever run we found.  It  has become an old favourite because we know it so well.  Every day the conditions are slightly different, the light may change, the time of night that the slope was groomed and the texture of the snow.  We come here to  learn and practice new skills.  There are good small jumps to be had down the sides of the piste, areas of powder to check out and when there are not many other folk about, plenty of space for attempting 360’s and backwards skiing, it is all good fun. We always have a run or two here for a bit of fun, before heading off elsewhere on the mountain as the mood takes us.  

Sometimes I head off alone to experience more challenging runs, although Joes boarding skills are improving dramatically and he is keen to do more and more.  I hope too, with the lessons they have recently had, that Liis and Marcos will catch up enough to join us on our expeditions.  They do have one more skill to master before the mountain is truly theirs to explore and that  the skill of riding “Button Lifts” on a snowboard!!!

quiet times

overnight snow on the terrace

looking east, down the valley

West, up the valley from the dining room window

It struck me yesterday on the lifts and again this morning that I haven’t written for ages.  It feels like weeks and weeks, but is only 10 days.  I can’t recall precisely what I have been doing all the time, there have been some incredibly busy days here when the chalet has been full of guests and others when nothing of note has happened all day.

There is a quietness that descends here at times,  when there is no traffic and no wind, no people about and clattering of ski boots on the road, no chattering of voices or work being done and everything is still.  The valley seems to be suspended in a sort of trance.  Nothing changes in the landscape, the snow on the trees, the empty car park, the hills in the distance stay motionless for hours on end, longer sometimes, for whole days.  The immediate view is in the shade, so not even the shadows of the sun move to break the stillness of the day.  

On clear days there are wonderful views, snowcapped peaks beyond the brasserie next door, rising up out of the shade into glorious, dazzling sunshine, a hint of activity, just a hint, on the mountainside if one studies the tiny line of the lifts, the movement is just about visible and the odd, miniscule dot of a skier, partially obscured, heading down some slope or other.  

In the other direction, a very different view but similarly still and unchanging. An empty carpark, Le Sapiniere, the neighbouring hotel, clinging to the mountainside next to the winding road, a whole bank of fir trees silent and still, weighed down under the weight of snow, on the opposite side of the valley.  The possibility of an occasional car taking the route up to Pla d’Adet and in the distance, snow covered hills and mountain peaks of the southern Pyrenees.

Nothing of interest happens outside, nothing of note moves, probably the biggest change to the scene would be the contrail from a tiny plane passing high overhead.  

Indoors, all is quiet too, once the chores are done, we read books in front of the fire, maybe watch a movie, there is no television here, play games, Risk is popular at the moment, chat and drink endless cups of tea.  The peace and tranquility is beautiful and when it all becomes a bit much we go SKIING.

(If you have any spare DVD's of films/documentaries/drama series etc that you no longer want, you could send them here for our enjoyment and entertainment, they would be very much appreciated.  Thanks)

Chalet Lou Rider       Espiaube      Saint Lary Soulain       65170      France

greener and greener

Someone keeps posting comments on the blog ‘Greener and greener’  and ‘Greener by the day’.  It got me thinking of all the possibilities that these comments may mean:

They could be talking about themselves in an environmentally conscious sort of a way.  Being the modern day ‘Tom and Barbara’ in their house in the lakes, fully equipped with glasshouse, orchard, fields and allotment, I imaging compost bins being built, new methods for conserving energy being introduced and endless packets of vegetable seeds being chosen from glossy catalogues for the coming season.  Jars of bottled produce and conserves lined up in the pantry ready for consumption and muddy wellies in the back porch.  I don’t think that they mean this sort of green.

Maybe they can see the hills and mountains here in the Pyrenees.  Each time a comment comes through the ‘fohn’ wind blows and warm air  blasts up the valleys, chasing the snow to higher ground.  The picturesque landscape turns from Christmas card white to green and a dull dirty grey, drifts of melting snow cling to the sides of the road like grubby shammy leathers and the trickles of mountain streams turn, for a short while, to tumbling torrents, as the thin layer of snow is banished yet again to further up the mountains.  The peaks stay white and frosty but the zero isotherm rises and falls around us here at 1550 meters.  One day the air is filled with the clatter of ski boots on the tarmac with people heading up to the ski station, cars climbing the hill to jostle for parking places in the huge car park opposite, then as the green reappears, the sounds diminish and the guests mill around the chalet, disheartened by the effects of the warmer weather and the lack of decent snow to play on.  Fortunately there have been very few days where there has been no skiing at all and the ‘fohn’ wind soon dissipates allowing the weather that we want and need to return to the valleys.  Or this sort of green.

Perhaps it is another sort of green, maybe green with envy.  It is a possibility.  With both of them enjoying a good bit of skiing.  There is no need, there is a solution.  (You know that you want to do this.)  Check out a cheap flight to Toulouse, Pau or Lourdes, a short train ride to Lannemezan and a bus up to the resort.  Simples.  There are plenty of rooms available midweek through January and anytime in March and early April at the moment.  February is going to be crazy here, french half terms and busy busy busy, so the slopes will be full too and best avoided. Two ski hire shops within a short walk of Chalet Lou Rider and you can even buy a day lift pass at the bar, avoiding the queues in the morning, the mountains are waiting for you. 

The wrong day

Papa Noel handing out gifts

an expectant crowd gathers

L to R   Lisa, Clare, Liis, Marcos, Hawys and Nessa

busy in the kitchen

Christmas Dinner on the wrong day!!

Christmas caught me by surprise this year.  I was quite happily going about my day until just before lunchtime on Christmas eve when I realised that all the preparations were being made for a huge dinner that night.  The French celebrate early, with a large, Christmas dinner on Christmas Eve and give all their presents then too.

The kitchen was already well under way with preparations, but I hadn’t really noticed because all my duties revolve around serving dinner at the moment.  Instead of the usual place settings, the tables were decorated in appropriately for the occasion.  Red cloth, serviettes, a sprinkling of snow and sparkly stars, extra glasses, it all looked very festive.  

The children were fed early, to allow their parents time to enjoy their meal in peace.  Just as they were finishing their meal there was a knock at the window and Papa Noel was there in his red and white outfit with a big fluffy white beard.  He came in and found a comfy chair in front of the fire and began to hand out presents.  Every one gathered round, the children, already over excited by an afternoon in the snow and family present opening before dinner, didn’t really know what to do, they were jumping about shouting ‘Papa Noel’, ‘Papa Noel’, looking at their parents then checking that he was still there.  He produced present after present from a large sack, calling out every name in the room, all the guests, children, helpers and staff got one.  He wished everyone a Happy Christmas, the french simultaneously burst into song as he left, singing a great festive song, he had a small glass of wine and was gone.

Several minutes later, Joe, one of the helpers returned to the room, still wearing his santa hat and continued helping with the evenings entertainments, mission accomplished.

Canapes of pate, salmon, cheese and celery and sausage rolls were served along with a kir, to get the evening started.  Everyone was then seated at the long table for the Christmas meal.  It was delicious.  Cauliflower soup followed by prawn cocktail, roast turkey with all the trimmings, roast parsnips and potatoes, mashed sweet potato, carrots with garlic, savoy cabbage in a white sauce and lardons, bread and cranberry sauce and lashings of gravy.  

Traditionally english fare, we had to explain several of the dishes and show the way with the gravy.  It started at the far end of the table with several french people taking a spoonful and carefully tipping it over their meat.  It soon passed through an english group who poured from the jug until their plates were awash, by the time it reached the other end of the table the original recipients were asking for more.  Bread sauce is a wierd one, why would anyone take perfectly good bread and turn it into a white mush and serve it with roast meat? very strange, and jam? jam with a roast?  I am sure that they do similar things in french cuisine but cranberry sauce was approached with a certain amount of caution.  

A gin and tonic sorbet was then served in wine glasses and I am sure that most people thought that was the end of the meal.  Delightfully refreshing, cool and a great break within the whole christmas dinner meal.  No sooner than it was finished than the Christmas puddings appeared, unfortunately not flaming, but impressive none the less, supported by brandy sauce and custard all in proper British quantities.

Cheese and coffees were served but I saw none of that, with 30 plus place settings to wash up, along with all the kitchen tidying, Liis and I had more than enough to contend with.  Joe, Marcos and Hawys also chipped in, even though they had been working hard through their shifts during the rest of the day.

We got done soon after the guests had retired for the night and relaxed in front of the fire with a well earned drink and a sneaky smoke up the chimney.  It had begun to snow outside, a stillness enveloped the valley and slowly, through the night, everything was covered with a clean white blanket of snow ready for Christmas morning.

There is skiing to be done

A belated Merry Christmas to you all

may you be eating, drinking and being merry

through the Holidays

A whole hillside to play on

Clare admiring the view

I look totally wooden here, but the skiing is energetic

That is your actual French!!

Another light snow fall outside Chalet Lou Rider.

officially open

It looks like a field, but is in fact the carpark, freshly cleared of snow.  

Chalet Lou Rider is on the far left of the picture.

Empty pistes and a glorious view

Hello everyone, I've got my skis and I'm going to use them.

A snow canon doing its job

Sunset from the chalet

The day we have been waiting for since we arrived is now here.  The ski resort of Saint Lary Soulan is now officially open.

Alarms were set last night and those of us who wanted to ski, or snowboard, were up at 7.30 this morning.  Sunny skies and another light fall of snow overnight set the scene.  Marcos mopped the floors, Jo sorted the fire and washed up breakfast things, I cleared the terrace of snow and at 9.00am we went to get our ski equipment.  Some great Salomon carver skis for me and boards and boots for the other two.

I was excited to be heading up to the slopes, but nothing compared to the other two, Marcos is from Brazil and has never experienced snow before, let alone snowboarding,  it is Joe’s first time too, he is a proficient longboarder, similar to skateboarding but on a longer board with wheels.  Their excitement was intoxicating, just the ride up the mountain in the bubble lift, looking out over the snow covered mountains would probably have been enough, but they wanted more.  After six weeks talking about it, watching videos and being in the mountains with all the snow around, all they needed to do was get on their boards and go.

And they did.  After a few failed attempts to master a button lift, the operator suggested that we used a chair lift and that they practice balance and control on their boards before trying a button lift again.  I talked them through getting on the lift and lowering the safety bar so that none of us plummeted from the swinging chair into the snow below, we studied the form of skiers and boarders on our ride up, enjoyed the view across the resort to the snowcapped mountains in the distance, cursed at the bitter snow from the everblasting snow canons and checked out some of the other routes down the mountain, there seems to be plenty here to explore and that is before we even got to the top.  Getting off a lift is a tricky affair so I prepared them the best I could to avoid a mass pileup at the top.  The beginners managed the dismount in style, without tumbling or mucking up at all, hopped aross to the top of the piste like only snowboarders do, buckled their feet firmly to their boards and were off.  Momentarily.  By the time I had my camera ready they were both flat on the snow.  It didn’t put them off at all.  Again and again and again they managed to stand, balance and topple to the floor again.  Like watching born foals trying to stand for the first time.  

I left them to it for a while and went off to find my ski legs again.  They hadn’t gone far and returned very fast.  Off down the easy blue run, a little cautiously to start with and then with a bit more speed.  What a feeling to be gliding over the snow with the breeze whistling and the sound of skis on the piste.  The surface was wonderful, newly groomed and constantly topped up by the snow canons, they do an excellent job providing extra snow, but ski through their vapour cloud and you know it, bitter cold sticking snow that gets in through the smallest chink in your clothing and lets you know who is in charge on the mountain.  After the first couple, I avoided their drift wherever I possibly could.  To the bottom and back up again.

I did the same route again, mainly to check up on the newbies but also because the second time down a run is often better than the first,  knowing where the bumps and turns are, getting a feel for the snow and just because it is.  I was surprised how far I had to go to find Marcos, he was nearly half way down, sat on his arse when I spotted him, but obviously getting the hang of his board.  Joe was already at the bottom when I got there the second time.  Loving every moment and like a duck to water, he was grinning from ear to ear, covered in snow, cold and having the best time ever.  We went round again before I headed off to enjoy some more of the mountain.

To be continued....