Milan/Courmayeur - January 2011

The first leg of our journey entails a run in with Ryanair. We had vowed never to fly with them again but the 60% discount to Easyjet was just too big to ignore. So now we are at the gate and having to suffer the indignity of having our hand luggage weighed and measured. There is the usual commotion of Ryanair 'virgins' who cannot believe the strict enforcement of the rules by the luggage police. Mrs K puts her bag in the slot. It fits (with a bit of a shove) and we all heave a sigh of relief. Getting it out again however is a bit more tricky. Two Ryanair luggage policemen have to hold the frame of the sizer steady while Mrs K pulls it free. Embarrassed smiles but we are in. Next is the shuffle to the plane. Standing on the steps up to the aircraft I feel the persistent shoulder of the guy behind me who somehow thinks that by pushing me will secure him a better seat. Mercifully the plane is only two thirds full which explains why this leg of the journey is costing us £12 each. It cost Holly more to get the Gatwick Express from Victoria. Crazy.

We arrive on time at Bergamo (Ryanair fanfare). The only problem is that Bergamo is only just about in the vicinity of Milan - about an hour's drive. I meet our man Luigi at the Europcar desk. I had a 10 second conversation with him a couple of days previously and am impressed that he knows who I am. But it turns out we are his only booking and he is about to close up. He is no nonsense but friendly and he drives me out to the hire car area to pick up our Fiat Dublo which is basically a box on wheels but perfectly designed for Keen luggage. We are eventually on the road and after a few wrong turns find the motorway to Milan. It is now past midnight and Steve and Paula are waiting up for us at their trendy central Milan apartment. Miraculously there is a space to park outside the apartment though our box on wheels is not well suited to being squeezed along the pavement and into a small space. Steve manages it.

Early next morning Steve is up at the crack of dawn after about 4 hours sleep to travel to London for the day. The rest of us have a more leisurely breakfast and pack up the cars for the 2 hour drive to Courmayeur in the Italian Alps. When we arrive, we unload the cars at the Foulser chalet which involves squeezing the box along a street with a couple of inches each side to spare, much to the annoyance of a neighbour who at one point starts banging on the rear window because she can't get past with her dog. I try to behave like an Italian - ignore her.

There is little time to spare before our ski lesson at 2 so, after a quick bite, Sian Anthony and I pop round the corner to the ski hire shop to kit ourselves out. If you haven't been skiing before you just won't be able to appreciate how uncomfortable ski boots are to wear. From there we have to walk about 200m to the ski lift. By the time we get there Sian is complaining that her feet are really hurting. Everyone reassures her that this is normal but when she turns white and ends up face down on the ground having almost fainted we realise that perhaps the boots are the wrong size. Pia very kindly volunteers to take Sian back to the shop for a bigger size. There is no way I am going all the way back.

By the time of our lesson Sian has made it back from the shop and up on the cable car. The new boots are a bit better but not much. Keen women have big plates. Our instructor is Stefano and he is to give the 3 of us a joint lesson. This is the first time for Ant and Sian and the first time for me since 1986. I assume that it will be like starting from scratch for me but after a couple of runs the basics come back very quickly and I am despatched to tackle the blue run, leaving Ant and Sian on the nursery slope. Fortunately, I have my nieces Ella, Pia and Darcey to keep an eye on me. Ella in particular gives some good tips and I manage 4 runs only falling twice.
Back at the coffee shop, we learn that Mrs F has had quite a bad fall and has hurt her knee. However she manages to hobble back to the house. Only then when she sees the swollen knee does it become clear this could be serious. There will be a visit to the clinic in the morning - Steve (still on his way back from London) will not be skiing in the morning.  [It has occurred to me that whenever we holiday with family, someone gets injured!]

We have dinner in the quaint Foulser chalet which is somehow going to sleep 10 in just 2 bedrooms - at bedtime it's a bit like a scene from “The Waltons”.

Next morning the Keen skiers head back up the mountain for another lesson. This time Stefano looks after Sian and Ant while I have a lesson with another instructor. Unfortunately Sian sees Stefano without his sunglasses and decides she doesn't like him - he just isn't fit. Not sure what she would make of my man (Pierlunho) - he has been teaching for 38 years.  We go further up the mountain to take a longer and harder blue run. It's a good lesson and I am starting to try the parallel turns and beginning to get the bug again. By the time I have finished and get back down to the nursery slope, I find Ant has gone off to the lower blue run with Stefano, leaving Sian to practice her snow ploughs on the nursery slope. She is not happy. We head off to the cafe for some lunch and hear that Paula's diagnosis is a damaged cruxiate ligament and is likely to be off the slopes for the rest of the season. It is cruel as she has come a long way, after what I am told was a slow start, and was looking forward to showing us her moves.

After lunch we take Sian up the mountain to another nursery slope which seems to be ideal for her to practice on. Unfortunately she still hasn't quite mastered the technique of turning and slowing down and sets new records in the time taken to get to the bottom of the slope, often ending up in a heap. She calls it a day but I am ready to have another crack at the harder blue run and Ant is game for a try too. Ella (a black run kind of girl) is kind enough to hang around with us and help us down. We both take a few tumbles but enjoy it. The worst part is trying to traverse a winding path down and trying to avoid the skiers bombing down.  Unfortunately, looking up the slope rather than the direction you are trying to ski in is not ideal and I soon take a heavy tumble with skis, poles, glasses and hat scattered all over the slope.  I know immediately that my knee has taken a knock but there is no alternative but to carry on down the slope and it doesn't seem too bad.

That evening we join some friends of Steve and Paula in the village for a meal.  It is only a short walk but my knee doesn't feel good and obviously Mrs F needs to be dropped at the door so we head off by car.

Next morning the Keens are up the slope again fairly early to make the most of our morning.  The knee is not good but I am determined to get some more practice in. We persevere with Sian on the nursery slope but after just two runs she has had enough and heads back home. Ant and I stick around and then hook up with everyone for a coffee before heading back to the house for lunch.  We set off for Bergamo with the prospect of a 7 hour trip home (including an hour for Ryanair to deliver our one suitcase to baggage claim).

Thank you Foulsers for a really fun weekend!  Here's hoping Paula's knee is not as bad as feared and that I am fit for our return visit in 6 weeks time!