Saturday, 2 June 2012

Snow.

Tignes. 
A snowy, lovely, lively place. 
It was my first time there.
Second time skiing. 




After the second day. I may have tripped. While intoxicated. Down a step.
This ruined my left foot. It still hurts today. After 2 months.
No more skiing for me.
Not that you can call what I was doing 'Skiing'.
Sliding down the piste on my ass is more like it. 


Out of action. On my own.
I did the only things I ever want to do.
Sit. Snap. Smoke. Sip.
I managed to catch the end of the X games.
Jumpers.
Insane people.
Stunning to watch.





Being surrounded by mountains and being unable to really get into them was frustrating. The rest of the trip coming back telling me about the fun they had been having on some far off mountain. Returning to me, sat drinking in the bar at the lifts. Waiting like a puppy to hear some tales.
Needless to say too, that taking pictures of mountains covered in snow did get very repetitive.
Still beautiful though.










Above is my favourite shot of the trip.
Skier unawares.
Getting ready to face the red.
It was the last day. Two hours before we were meant to leave. Check out of our stay. Make our way home.
So, naturally we decided to get the train up the mountain for lunch instead.
It was lovely to have a different view.
Mulled wine in one hand. Camera in the other.



 It made me sad that I had missed so much.
Not fit enough for skiing. To join my companions on their snowy jaunts across peaks.
 






Honestly. I was glad to come home.
Everyone was sad.
Sad to leave the snow and the fun.
I was just ready to leave.
Ready for my next adventure. 

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