I'm still a little bitter about the part where we were trying to find a certain piste (piste means trail, I had never heard it used until we skied in Europe) and took a certain cat trail that forced us out of our skis and hiking uphill to get where we needed to go. Steve is probably still bitter about carrying my skis during said hike. But it was his idea, I SWEAR, and I have added it to the long list of reasons that I am such a lucky girl. Seriously, I thought I might die out there.
The first two days were frigid and it snowed on us a good part of both days. The 3rd day was sunny but no less frigid.
The sun's in our eyes...that's why we look so weird.
No, really, it's just the sun. That's the only reason.
These folks were out paragliding...and Steve was jealous. Doesn't it look cold up there?
The nice thing about skiing in the Alps is that you can take a nice and easy groomed run but easily get off in the bumpier fluffier stuff but then easily get back on the groomed stuff...so you're never really committed. The not so nice thing about skiing in the Alps is that the trails & maps are poorly marked, so you're never really quite sure where you're headed and you sometimes find yourself popping out of your skis and hiking uphill. Plus, they number the trails, they don't name them. Booorrring.
Steve's embarrassed to be seen with me in my goggles. I don't know why.
Fortunately, we hit an end of season sale when we got home and I should have a pair of smaller, less RED goggles for next season. So the ski fashion police can just Back Off.
