Pair uh knees

Just got back from this winter wonderland. As if I haven't explained already why the south west is prime location in France we will hang another little carrot our there. The Pyrenees, this fine mountain range between France and Spain that calls itself home to the country of the Andorra, fluffy dogs, sheeps milk cheese and some beautiful slopes also is known for several therapeutic mineral hot spring spas. So once again recap. Surfing, duck, wine, cheese, mountains, hot springs, warm weather...etc let's continue shall we.

Our little group headed out Thursday evening and ended up in Loudenvielle in the Louron valley the Pyrenees 3.5 hrs away. We passed through Auch another cool south western city. We settled into our little chalet shaped lodging up 5 flights of steps, I got top bunk of the bunk bed yeah and awoke to...rain. It decided to rain on us but no matter we visited the village and when the sun decided to peek out while we were picnicking we ran to rent some skis and two of us spent the afternoon getting beat up and bruised on some icy slushy slopes while the others literally snowshoes up a mountain to meet up with us, not the best snow but we had excellent views and my swollen purple knee relaxed well with a bit of arnica that night.

The next day as well it decided to rain on our parade so we spent the day floating luxiouriously in a hot spring spa called Balnéa. This was my first experience in a French 'cure' situation and must I say lots of speedos and lots of furry skinny men (and it so skinny). We did the whole deal hot Roman baths followed by ice cold plunges, a steam bath called a hammam, the Japanese baths outside, the ice cabin, one where if you have your ears underwater you can hear music...everything. After soaking that all in we went to see an old mill that's a restaurant as well as a cheese shop. Lots of cheese and listening to sheep bells and shepards singing in Occitan later we headed back.

That night it began to snow and to snow and to snow. We heard what sounded like thunder in the mountains, they were avalanches. On Sunday we said ready set go and set out for a long day of skiing at the big nearby resort of peyragudes. By the time we arrived it was snowing again, by the time we ate our picnic it was blowing. We said come on let's do it anyway. My land I've never been in such a bad blizzard. After scalping some tickets off of people who were smart enough to stop skiing early because of the weather we started out. When they say whiteout they mean it. We decided to take the lifts to the very top of the mountain you know so we would have more time to ski down, mistake. The winds kicked up the snow was blasting away at any exposed skin like a sand blaster and all that soft powder was whisked away leaving black diamonds of exposed ice paths. As we were trying to head back down the mountain it was so difficult to see that Sophie rushed right over the edge and down into a ravine. After our goodly amount (4 hours) of tense, cold, blind, exhausting skiing and meeting up with our snowshoeing buddies later we decided to call it quits. By the time we were enjoying some warm mulled wine everyone was off the slopes and you couldn't even see the ski lifts anymore.

Our next and last beautiful powder glimmering snowing morning we woke up early had our customary bowl of tea and toast in the morning and headed out to another nearby valley. We probably got about 6" of snow that night and our car was ploughed in by the snow trucks. After some time digging ourselves our we got on the road...and watched as no one dared drive in all that snow. Cars were turning around and returning home snow trucks were getting stuck and our packed out little Citroën was going strong. Until we had to put on snow chains, man those things are hard to put on. Finally we go to our destination, a cross country ski station. By the way unlike my past experiences of cross country skiing in the Midwest cross country skiing in the big leagues takes you up mountains. I'm sad to say I wasn't the best sport about it, I'm pretty terrible at cross country skiing, but after one beautiful 10k loop and a bit of lunch in my belly I was getting the hang of it. The cool kids (overachievers) decided to go on the recently opened longer trail while a friend and I took the same 10k loop with only one difference it had started to sprinkle. The only problem of rain and cross country skiing is that snow will gather into giant clumps and make it impossible for you to slide, finishing our aggressive fat burning session we headed back very proud of the progress in skiing we had made. The weekend over all of us (drenched) and very tired made our way home stopping just to get a hot chocolate at a cafe on the way.

This weekend probably isn't the best marketing for the weather in the Pyrenees, I hear usually you have a beautiful blue ski, but it was still very enjoyable. When it comes to snowboarding I would slightly discourage you because the snow, I have heard, almost always is a tad icy because of the beautiful sun afore mentioned. But really it's once again a totally different view of French culture and definitely not Parisian with different foods, architecture, and accents.