Awaking to a huge dump of snow overnight and continuing sleet made me fear a repetition of yesterday's first lift drama. Health & Safety must be on annual leave at the station. One of the three lifts had its doors open and you could have stepped straight in to the void. I didn't but there's something that always make me want to peer down and then up. I have no idea why.
There was a repetition of chaotic crowd control but today I'd already sussed out how to beat the stampede. Careful observation of expert ski guides showed where to stand and to be on guard, ready for the signal that they had finished dressing the slopes and we could go up to ski school.
Soph was late again but went off with Laurent anyway. Rakishly handsome youngish Italian. Mmm.. let me think that one through some other time. Someone said to be recently 'You're going to have trouble with that one, Dolly'. I'm only too aware that at thirteen but already on her way to six feet, looking like a young Sophia Lauren with a main of dark hair and a personality to match, there is indeed likely to be trouble ahead. Guaranteed.
Group ski school commenced but we all had lunch around a big table at the back and as usual, I whiled away another day at the Office in a very pleasant way. By now all the staff know me by first name and I've become a fixture and fitting, moving around through the day to help ensure their revenue maximisation. I don't mind. I just love watching the people, the banter, the chatter and the vast amounts of food and drink being served during the day. It must be an absolute gold mine though no one minds paying for good food, served quickly with lashings of beer.
The Group are starting to get tired. It's hard going out there and this is day 5 of skiing so lethargy is starting to creep in, irritated by the lack of lifts open due to the conditions. Still, this is New Year's Eve and they give it their all. Then they all frequent the American Bar and Bar Rosa which became Group Locals this week.
As dinner doesn't start until after the pumkin hour tonight, I know I need to get some sleep to have any chance of welcoming in the New Year awake. Three solid hours later and then we are assembled in the lobby for drinks and fun. Francesco and Luigi are in charge of party central and have arranged the bar for a dancing party post gala dinner. I'd swear they have got out Grandma's record player and Luigi is all geared up to DJ. A man of many talents.
Maria is all dolled up as Queen Mum and by now, even though her english is worse than my Italian, we have become friends. She pronounced my dress 'Bellisimo'. I didn't bother to tell her is was Monsoon vintage. They don't seem to do less than designer brands in these parts.
The Gala Dinner is a relatively raucous affair. The food is sensational though I'm having a bad day on the eating stakes and don't do it justice. Mind you, it would take someone with a pretty monumental appetite to do this standard and amount of food justice.
We have a lovely evening and I do make it to New Year. Just. In swirls of grandiose kisses all around the room, everyone forgets we are british and kisses everyone the Italian way. Two is better than one though I like the Spanish three best (if I'm honest).
I leave my new Friends to dance and party the night away with Soph a little after midnight, relieved that 2011 is dead and gone. It was the worst year of my life so far and I couldn't wait to see the back of it.
Now 2012 though. Hurrah. The first year of the rest of my New Life and the year of my 40th festivities and 'gap' year. Wow. It's going to be fantastic. I've made up my mind to make sure.
Happy New Year.
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