Phew, a man called Fabien has tired me out!
And no, not like that...
he's my instructor and I was his first English pupil of the season so he got very excited and made me ski down lots of things that were very hard. He taught me lots though and there as are more suprises in store tomorrow apparently.
When I first met Fabien I told him that I couldn't hear and he did what every foreign person does when I tell them that, he ignored me completely! On the lift up to the first run, I told him again and he smiled at me and said, Sure...
I said, in English, and dodgy French, that I needed to see his lips when he spoke and so he pouted at me. Great! And that's one of the reasons I am so worn out - in order to hear him, I had to ski as fast as him so that when he spoke I could whizz round and see his pouting lips... it was bonkers but it worked.
I sometimes wonder why so many of the foreign people I meet have so much trouble understanding my deafness... surely there are deaf people in France... although to be fair, I have never seen one in the flesh.
Anyway, the weather is still completely fabulous here so we've been making the most of it. This afternoon London Aunt and Cousins 1 & 2, Ma and I all went up to the top of the mountain overlooking Courchevel and skied about a bit.
Then we had a nice cup of tea and a sit down and I caught the bubble back down with Ma as Fabien had caused my leg muscles to die.
On arriving at the bottom we were greeted by London Cousin 2 and her very bloody nose. She'd done the most incredible wipe out that involved her nose making high-speed contact with the snow. It was very impressive, but London Cousin 2 was less impressed.
She's now chomping on jam tart and recovering and I am writing this.
Time for a beer I think...
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