Sunday, still digesting protein, la bienheureuse decided not to risk her knee in the heavy snow and left me to seek out higher snow on my own. Not an easy task when the glacier was closed due to high winds, but I found one lovely run on snow of the normal, frozen variety. Meanwhile ma bien-aimée set off without planks of wood on her feet, hiking towards higher ground herself. We eventually made rendezvous in a mountain side restaurant, where hardy locals in shirt-sleeves braved the stiff breeze to sunbathe.
An early finish allowed plenty of recovery time (read 'siesta'), a hot bath and a delicious dinner, beautifully cooked (read 'heated in the microwave') by la bienheureuse, in our little studio apartment. The following morning, I gave the slush-skiing a miss and we both went for a lovely little walk through the woods on a snow-covered path and along a pretty mountain stream, followed by another restaurant lunch outdoors in the sunshine.
Thence back to Lyon and work the following morning. Not for long in my case, as I yielded to deep urges on Wednesday and caught a morning flight across the Channel, where I spent a few hours enjoying the sunshine in London, and then two hours enjoying football played as it was meant to be played. Yesterday I returned home to be treated to the first éclairs of the summer. Not cakes of the chocolate and cream variety, but bolts from the sky. Yes, a thunderstorm in April. At least it wasn't accompanied by hail which covered the ground 10cm thick, as occurred in the Cevennes last night...
