Prat Peyrot sous la neige

What a peculiar winter. Mild enough to save us hundreds in electricity bills - good, but also mild enough not to kill off all the fleas - bad. I've had to resort to Frontline for Ulysse, the first time ever. He was just infested with the little buggers, and the herbal potions I tried were totally ineffective.

Then over the February holidays we had a brief cold spell which was enough to crown Mont Aigoual with a heavy covering of snow. I took a Thursday off and decided to take my youngest skiing. I phoned ahead to find out when the half-day ski rental started, and was told that if I intended driving up, I would need chains. Chains!

A hurried wash and brush-up and I was in Roady talking to a man who knew a lot more about chains than me. My last experience with them was leaving a box of newly bought chains swinging on a supermarket trolley and driving off about twenty years ago. I can't recall at what point we discovered this slight problem...

Anyway, he showed me the right size for my wheels, and then I asked him to demonstrate putting them on. A wise move as it turned out because they are quite a challenge!

Back home, I got lunch together (bacon sarnies), dug out my fluo pink ski onesie (or combinaison in French, I didn't realise they were onesies in English - thanks Trish... visions of tiger-striped bed gear come to mind), boots and unfashionable woolly hat, lent my motorbike wet-weather trousers to my son, and off we went.

Did we need the chains? We did! Were they a bugger to put on? A total bugger, but not half as bad as they were to take off. Picture frozen fingers, gloves the size of a man's hand with the ends flopping wetly and coldly getting caught in the bits, my son reading the instructions, and me on my hands and knees cursing.

We stopped at l'Esperou to rent skis, and I also rented boots once I tried them on as they were a lot more comfortable than mine. The woman said she'd had the same ones as me back in the day (1990)! In the end I ditched my boots there because I knew I'd never wear them again having tried the others, and the plastic might just collapse in the cold too. It was €20 to rent boots and poles for half a day for both of us.

The ski resort is called Prat Peyrot, and is a tiny place with 4 green slopes, 4 blue and 3 red which take no time at all to ski down, and a cafeteria. There's also 32km of cross-country skiing

Not cool and trendy on skis, but comfy and warm

I found a nice place to park right up near the start of the slopes (glad of my chains on the snow-covered road) that someone who'd had enough vacated. The weather was pretty awful, so half a day was probably as much as they could take.

Pretty awful weather but lots of snow

To get up the slopes, the resort has ancient tire-fesses: those little disks at the end of a metal pole that drag you up the slope and that you have to let go in time or get a smack in the face (says she from experience). On the red/blue slopes some start with such a jerk that you are hoisted off the ground for a metre or two and have to be careful to land properly or fall and tumble unceremoniously back down in front of everyone. Snowboarders have a particularly challenging time!

To think that the resort only had the green slopes open just a week before!

If you master the tire-fesses of Prat Peyrot, you can cope with any tire-fesses in the world!

At one point it started 'raining' with tiny drops of ice that stung as they hit me in the face. Ouch! It was like an extreme facial.

We had a good time going down all the slopes that were open (all but one red), saw the same people everywhere, it's that small, and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. We started with a blue and went on to the red. When I did one blue, my son did a red twice, in the same time. Almost.

A better skier than me

I was glad of my chains when it was time to go home too. The car in front had none, and couldn't get out of its space. My son and I helped out with the pushing and shoving and got it moving again.

We like to stop for a hot chocolate when we get back down to l'Esperou. Our favourite bar had plenty of space and was lovely and warm. The hot chocolate slipped down like warm velvet. My son had a crèpe to fill the gaping hole in his ever-growing stomach and I had a second hot chocolate. After all that exercise, I had no qualms.

The skis and poles returned, we started back down the mountain. That's when the chain fun really started. I stopped to remove them once they were no longer necessary, along with a couple of cars behind me. I got one off, but the other one flatly refused. No amount of jiggling, cursing or violence got them free. The guys behind me were struggling too, but got there in the end. One guy asked if we were okay, so I wailed NOOOOO! They came over to have a look, and no amount of their jiggling, cursing or violence had any effect either.

In the end, they decided to take the wheel off - hurried searching for the jack and bits from me (under my seat!) -  and disentangled the chains from the workings around the brakes. What a palaver! Anyway, I was most grateful, and relieved to have had help. We're a matey bunch on the mountain in conditions extrèmes...

The rest of the journey back was uneventful, I'm glad to say. Total cost: €40 for ski passes and rentals, plus petrol and hot chocolate.

Iceski

In my continuing effort to be the perfect mother (*cough*), today I took the boys skiing at Prat Peyrot on Mont Aigoual. Despite the fact that I'm running a wee cold, coughing and generally feeling under the weather, I drummed up the wherewithal to get things together and get out.

Why? Well, I had this innocent belief in the value of fresh air and sport as a cold cure. Blast the bug buggers with some clean, cold mountain air and banish them out of the system. That's the theory. Actually, I can attest that it doesn't work. I'm still running a wee cold, coughing and generally feeling under the weather. Added to which I'm now knackered having been out in the fresh air doing sport.

I'll take a Lemsip later after supper.

Anyway, back to skiing. I did wonder why I was out driving in -4°C at 8am when I could be in bed, but felt the beckoning of snow and pistes bleu, plus the enthusiasm coming from the younger generation who had been nagging about going since before the Christmas holidays.

We arrived at l'Esperou and hired skis, poles and boots for the boys. I have my own boots although I can announce right now that I will never ever be wearing them again as they are the most crippling and unpleasant things with which to inflict on my feet and, having put up with them for 15yrs have decided It Is Time to hit the sales and buy a new pair.

Thus equipped, we drove up to Prat Peyrot, parked, queued for passes and hit the slopes. Prat Peyrot is only a small station for downhill skiing although it has an international cross-country reputation with black courses and regular competitions. Downhill, you get 15 slopes, no black ones, but some really pleasant greens and blues.

I must admit to not being a great skier. I like to enjoy myself, not dice with death for preference, and avoid falling over at all costs. With my back, I'm sure I'd never walk again!! Or I would, but with a pronounced stoop unless I got my discs stuck together and that's not too cool at 45.

We dashed down some greens so we could find our ski feet again and the boys could go through the trees and over bumps. My youngest is not too experienced either so we are rather restricted by having to 'go as fast as the slowest member'.

I'm not one for sitting on the slopes nibbling at a frozen sarnie or opening a tin of tuna in some ghastly sauce at lunch time, so we went to the caff to buy frites (hot) and sit in relative comfort in the warm. I had taken turkey sarnies (what else?!), and bought a mini carafe of wine and some desserts for a treat.

After lunch we tackled the other side of the station on a couple of slopes that are not usually open. Unfortunately, it was so cold that the snow had turned icy, and what should have been a nice blue slope had become a nasty death trap. My youngest was horrified and terrified and after falling and sliding decided to go no further. I couldn't blame him really, I had no idea how we were to get down.

Luckily, a nice young man came to our rescue. It turned out he was a ski monitor but wasn't working today, and he took charge of my precious son and helped him inch his way down to the bottom keeping to the softer edge. What a hero!

After that we returned to the sunny side of the mountain and had a lot more fun on the easier slopes. By 3pm however, my feet were declaring forfait and announced that they would not go another metre without Severe Repercussions. My eldest was also suffering so it was not difficult to decide it was time to go before the general rush.

We were really lucky with the weather. The sky was that marvellous deep azure blue with not a cloud to be seen, at least until lunch time. The snow was up to 160cm thick which was much more than we've experienced before (in the last 3 years...).

I cannot tell you how ecstatic my feet were to get those damned boots off. They fairly wept with relief!

TGO - Prat Peyrot

I feel I've had an awful lot of mountain air today - I'm tired out! It didn't help that I watched 'Prime Suspect' on ITV3 until midnight (damned adverts...!) and had to get up at 7am to chuck the croissants in the oven so we could get out by 8am. Having rustled up the sarnies, put the washing on the hanging thingy and roused the boys to action, we actually made it out by shortly after 8.

Just over an hour or so later, we were at l'Esperou renting skis then made our way up to the ski station of Prat Peyrot where I had to queue for 20mins to get the ski passes. Cars were already parked on both sides of the road, but I managed to sneak into a spot a shortish but brisk walk away from the main action.

Once up the mountain it was most interesting to observe the clientele, which was vastly different from the one I am used to encountering up there. Normally we go during the February holidays when all the trendy pretentious types are in the Alps or other more worthy mountain ranges. What's left - the modest families, single parents, people who can't be bothered to go so far as the Alps for a couple of days, etc., are the ones I'm used to seeing, and there are no queues to speak of. Well, today it was a beautiful day, it was too far to go to the Alps or Pyrenees, so off went Everyman and his Buddies to Mont Aigoual. The result of this was that we got to see the pretentious types in their latest up-to-the-minute tip top fashionable ski gear, young men (students?) in groups being silly on those very short skis or snowboards, and so on, in numbers so huge that the queues for the tir-fesses were ridiculous.

In fact, we gave up just after 3pm and went down to l'Esperou to do some sledging. There was more than half a metre of snow so ample to go racing down at top speed and then come to a dramatic stop with a flourish of snow.

My youngest managed to make a fair attempt at the blue slopes this time even though they were a tad icy. Next time I'll enrol him for lessons so he can tackle them with more ease. He's obviously ready to move on beyond the chasse-neige to using his sticks correctly and learning to turn by jumping.

My eldest told me I'd have to hurry up and get a new boyfriend who likes to ski so he's not left hanging around with my youngest (and me) and getting held up! I told him I'd bear that in mind...

We had our picnic in the warm next to the restaurant. You pay 1Eur per person and I think it's worth it to sit on chairs at a table in the warm and eat like a civilised person, relaxed. If your youngest is not itching to go to the toilet for which you have to go outside to the building opposite, you can even treat yourself to a nice warming coffee... We gave up on the idea of buying frites as the queue was most of the way back to Montpellier...

As for prices, the rental of 2 boots, and 3 pairs of skis/batons came to 32Eur, and the day's ski pass was 31Eur. Plus diesel and you have the makings of a fairly expensive day out, but we did enjoy it and wished we could stay for more.

Please don't tell anyone about skiing at Prat Peyrot - I don't want the queues to get any longer! Ta...

Anon-Ski

Three days, two nights, fresh air, exercise and lots of action. That was our brief séjour in the Cevennes skiing on Mont Aigoual.

As we approached the village of l'Esperou I wondered if there would be enough snow; there was much less on the road up than last year. We stopped off at the hotel La Source, took charge of the same rooms as last year - a double and a twin organised in a suite with a door onto the corridor as well as a door per room.

We rented skis, boots and sticks and headed up to Prat Peyrot where there was, thankfully, snow. After lunch in the hors sac picnic area of the caff (1Eur per person to eat sarnies at a table in the warm), we headed out and up the tire fesse. I was attired in my usual Leclerc 1992 fluo pink and black ski suit with white Salomon boots of the same vintage, warm woolly polo neck pullover beneath pulled up over my mouth to keep out the bitterness of the howling gale that raged around us. The gale was soon replaced by snow whereupon we called it a day and went back to the warmth of the hotel for a cuppa.

The next day we had organised lessons for all at 9am. This may seem like an ungodly hour, but those with children will recognise that as you're up anyway, you may as well just get on and out. Also, at that hour, there's hardly a soul about so lessons are undertaken on an almost deserted mountain with only the cross-country guys out practising their 'skating' technique in peace. As they whizzed by, we got our turns sorted out with one monitor brother whilst my youngest got the hang of the tire fesse with the other one. Pierre and Jean-Claude remembered me from last year thanks to my day-glo ski suit...

I asked them what they do during the summer months thinking that they must be guides de montagne or something like that. Apparently there's not much call for mountain guides in moyen montagne compared to haute montagnes such as the Alps - less chance of disaster if you get lost I suppose although Mont Aigoual can be a pretty dangerous place if the mist comes down like it did on day 3. Anyway, they are bucherons (woodmen) which means that if there's no snow, they just get back to cutting trees so there's never any shortage of work and they don't have to move around the country according to the season.

Once we'd had our lessons, there was no stopping my youngest who, with renewed confidence, speeded up his descents on the pistes, discovered the joys of hors piste through the woods and jumped over the slightest bump he came across. My eldest was dying to get his skis on the only red slope open, so I took him there and we went down it three times in a row. Once he'd fallen off the tire fesse on the way back up for the third time - it was a particularly tricky one with lots of steep bits followed by hollows - we made our way back down and spent the rest of the afternoon sledging.

If they weren't skiing or sledging, they were making snow angels, having a snowball fight or building fortresses in the woods. They had a lovely time, were totally exhausted by the evening and slept like logs until the next morning.

I love going there because :

1. it's not far
2. it's not over-crowded in the week
3. it attracts people who want to have a laugh and ski rather than pose about
4. I'm not sure if the hotel owner works with his 'niece'... (intrigue!)
5. it's cheap
6. there are no really frightening slopes
7. the green slopes are perfect for acquiring confidence
8. the ski monitors are not over-sexed, big-headed poseurs
9. the hotel owner lets you cork the wine bottle for the following evening
10. it's not far to get back home.

One thing I noticed was the mix of people. It's not what you'd call an international resort, but there were Asian families of Vietnamese, and Indian origins, a few north African boys but no women. Are Muslim women not able to ski/allowed to ski/want to ski or take any interest in this sport?

The other thing that was incredibly obvious was that you really need to take skiing lessons. It's not a sport that's easily improvised if you want to tackle anything beyond a green slope, and seeing some of the trouble that beginners got into when they tried the blue slope (Debutants Interdits!) confirmed my belief.

I have some marvellous memories caught on my digital camera filming the boys skiing, with me skiing alongside. And, "Action!"

B-My-Ski-be

Last year I went skiing at Mont Aigoual with the boys and we had such a great time that we decided to do it again this year.

Mont Aigoual has a ski resort called Prat Peyrot above the village of l'Esperou which is about an hour and a half from Montpellier. If you're the pretentious type who likes to go where being seen is important, it is not the place for you. On the other hand, if you are not worried by the lack of serious black downhill slopes, because there are none, and don't mind the frankly 'popular' clientele, then it's an extremely agreeable place to ski. Not least, in my book because of the lack of Parisians and most everyone else except for mainly local skiers.

The area is a major cross-country centre, however, with international competitions on black courses and fantastic routes through the woods.

Last year there was loads of snow. This year, only 2 green, 1 blue and 1 red downhill slopes were open, plus the sledging slope. Put off, no doubt, by the dodgy conditions, the place was also a lot emptier. We stayed two nights at La Source hotel again. It has 2-stars and is a simple, Cevenol, family-run business. No internet access, no phones, no tele to speak of, but just 5 minutes from Prat Peyrot. There are no hotels at the ski resort so the nearest spot is l'Esperou where a few hotels and self-catering cottages are scattered amongst ski and sledge rental shops and the odd fooderie.

I'm actually pretty pooped this evening and will write more anon.