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Old 12th Feb 2013, 23:39
  #3500 (permalink)  
Danny42C
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Danny va faire le ski.

To keep costs down, IIRC, the members on the rail/sea party would travel on leave warrants made out to Folkestone, but would first join the air party at the assembly point (Victoria), then split up and go on to the boat train or to Heathrow (this arrangement was to be of value to us later). As far as I remember we were about evenly divided, about 30-40 in each party, mostly Army singles and no Navy at all). Apart from we two, the only other RAF representative was a W/Cdr pilot in the air party.

We travelled in early January in the "dead" (cheap !) Winter Sports season. First we enjoyed the comforts (?) of British Rail (Irish Mail from Holyhead). Then to Folkestone and on to an ancient, rusty, SNCF ferry, which pitched, rolled and groaned across to Boulogne. After that there was an endless overnight journey (but at least they gave us couchettes ) right down through snow-bound France (no TGV then) to Chamonix. There we found that the air party had had a comfortable night in the hotel, after kitting-out late the previous afternoon, and were now enjoying their first morning on the slopes. Suddenly, the air option didn't seem such a bad idea after all.

Our thoroughly train-lagged party had lunch, then went out to pick-up boots, kit, ski passes, skis and poles (and of course all the better stuff had been bagged by the air party). I wasn't surprised to find that we were on the same old cable bindings I'd had four years before in Kashmir (I was still on them in Gargellan as late as '61 !)

The Association had done us not, perhaps, proud, but quite adequately. The hotel (name forgotten) would be four-star in the terms of that era. Willie and I shared a warm, comfortable room. The food was a revelation, causing us (not for the first or last time) to wonder who exactly had won the war (I particularly remember oeufs en cocotte )

On the Monday morning we met our French instructors. They had limited English ("Bend ze knees" was about it), but we got along well enough with mime and schoolboy French. Their first task was to sort us into classes. Willie had done some skiing in Scotland and I could at least remember what I should be doing.

My memory of the topography is hazy, but as far as I can remember, the "home peak" (Le Brévent) divided into three sections. Right behind the hotel was a gentle rise over a very wide area. Generations of woodcutters had cleared all the trees; it served as one huge nursery slope. Above this was a large flat mogul field with a small ski restaurant at one side. Running up to it from the hotel was a succession of T-bar drag-lifts (I suppose it's all different now).

On the snows next time,

Goodnight, all,

Danny42C


Not to worry unduly.