It was with a twinge of melancholy, as I woke this morning to realise that I would never play the bard. Still, it could be worse. I spent all day snowboarding.
Prevaling weather is still rubbish, with a weird temperature inversion (cold at the bottom, warm at the top. no snow).
I've been riding groomed pistes mostly, perfecting the art of riding just a little bit faster than I find comfortable (about 30mph according to Dan's GPS geek device).
I saw my beard hero today, a 60 year old boarder with a grey beard like Father Christmas. He was on the very first lift, and shredded up the hill all day.
The bus to the hill is driven by a young bloke called Travis, who has an Amish beard and a very friendly dog.
The hostel is almost completely filled with Aussies and Scandies. Someone introduced himself as "from london" but even he's Aussie. Still, at least there's no moodie French lifties.
Snow is forecast.....
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