More fog

James read my blog last night and proclaimed it to be "wildly optimistic" - he clearly feels that I have not adequately depicted the challenging conditions here in Sestriere. I thought that I had already been brutally honest about the lack of visibility but here goes with some more gory details! I decided to find a more direct route over to Borgata this morning, leaving the boys to head up to the black runs at the top of the mountain. So I set off by myself, using the "moving carpet" to get up to the poma tow. Up I went, in fog so thick that I could see nothing more than a foot away. So when I got to the top I could see neither the poma, nor any poles indicating where the piste went. Nothing at all. There were no other skiers at all there - anyone with a brain had stayed in bed - so I just stood there for a few minutes considering my options. It was strangely peaceful. I skied gingerly in the direction that my piste map indicated, and was rewarded by seeing the shadowy outline of the tow emerge from the fog as I approached. The man who was in charge of the tow approached me with arms outspread and gave me a hug, informing me that I am "a beautiful girl!" (He was very old so I guess this was comparative) I was surprised by this unprecedented outpouring of affection from a tow operator, but worse was to come when he moved in to attempt a full on snog. Now, I was a young woman in the 1970s and 1980s, so I have considerable experience of being inappropriately touched or kissed by disgusting old men; however it has been a while! I expertly ducked out of the way, and as I ascended into the fog on the poma tow he shouted after me "I love you!" Words fail me.

I enjoyed my skiing on the runs at Borgata but, as the morning progressed, the crisply pisted runs deteriorated quite quickly and became cut up and soft. James is not at all happy with the snow this week but I honestly don't think it's that bad - the slopes are well covered and at least they're not icy - I have definitely skied on much worse. As I was going up one of the chairlifts I saw the endearing sight of my three skiing boys passing underneath me and we called out to each other, meeting shortly thereafter for a coffee. The fog continued to envelop the resort for the rest of the day. It's so strange to ski down from pole to pole, watching like a hawk to make sure that you don't miss one and go off the piste, presumably to be lost forever. Late in the afternoon the fog lifted to the extent that we could see from the hotel across to the nursery slopes. This was such a remarkable sight that all the hotel guests in the lounge crowded over to the window to have a look! Fingers crossed that we get better views tomorrow.