Perhaps the biggest consolation that papa has found for being far from Paris is the mountains. While nothing beats Paris, the Montagne Sainte-Geneviève doesn't quite throw a shadow on the Mont Blanc.
And perhaps the best thing about being surrounded by mountains is being able to go up high into the snow, strap two wooden planks to your feet and throw yourself down as fast as you can! That's what we did again and again this winter.
Now the Gongo likes going down the hill, but doesn't like going up. He's still waiting for a mountain where you only have to go down, not up. A sort of one-way skiing adventure. But as we say in the Chamonix Valley, what goes down must go up.
The season took us to the French Alps, the French Jura, the Swiss Alps, then ended in a spectacular Italian gastronomic snowfest where we were joined by hot-doggers la Grande Inès and Henri. A few ageing skiers came along to pay for things and, in the spirit of Easter, even allowed a snowboarder to join!
Mind you, this was not a good year for snow. But there was enough up high to do some stupid things. And stupid things we did. But we were Happy!
Feeling a bit like a marmotte? Check out some action shots here: 45 degrees of freedom
