We nearly missed our train to Les Arcs due to a ghost Parisian bus. I wish we had video of us running through Gare d'Austerlitz (okay, not really), trying to find our tickets, stumbling through speaking some French to convince the ticket people that we really do belong on that train, and finally walking / running down the entire platform to the final car where our little sleeper cabin awaited us. I remember climbing to the top bunk, catching my breath, and giving Bridgette that "we will not do that again" look. Needless to say, sleep came easy that evening.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Skiing: Complete
We have returned home to Paris, no bones broken, no harsh sun burns, a bit wind burned, and severely sore.
Then we awoke the next morning to a wonderful world of snow-covered trees and mountainous horizons. We gradually found our hostel, checked in, ate some breakfast, grabbed our rentals, bought lift tickets, rode the funicular, located storage lockers, and finally hit up the Mont Blanc chair lift. Phew. The skiing was great, and I have nothing bad to say about Les Arcs.
Besides the awesome time on the pistes (and off-pistes), we had a wonderfully interesting experience at the hostel. We arrived in Bourg-Saint-Maurice first thing Thursday morning, and after a short walk, we were knocking on the hostel door. Luckily, the owner / operator / receptionist / cleaning person, Charley, was already awake and happy to let us in. She was completely friendly, and had us set up in a room in no time, despite the early arrival. We were expecting a hostel full of French and a regular dose of English-speakers, but this place was entirely packed full of semi-permanent Brits. Oh, and two Aussies. So the place was super communal, everyone knew everyone because they had all been living there for weeks, and the vibe was as chill as it gets. Bridgette and I considered for a moment the possibility of living such a lifestyle for a few weeks or months, and then realized that that would get old, real fast. I guess we are as old as we are.
So in the end, we had a few days living in a bubble of English and skiing some great slopes. No complaints, a great little trip.
Labels:
skiing
Location:
Bourg-Saint-Maurice, France
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