I think the man who booked my train tickets hated me. That can be the only reason to explain why I was seated at the back of the Eurostar which meant when we arrived in Paris I had to run the entire length of the train carrying my skis, my rucksack and my holdal to make sure I caught my connecting train.
I think the man who booked my train tickets hated me. That can be the only reason that he reserved me a seat on the top deck of the double-decker TGV, so I had to carry my skis, my rucksack and my holdal up the stairs. And down again at the other end. I've never travelled across France in the daytime and it was truly glorious. Especially with my elevated view.
I think that in these days of modern communications The Cats Mother and I should be able to hold a conversation one in France the other in the US without it cutting out all the time.
I think that when I send photos by bluetooth from my phone to the Tablet computer I'm using to write this I should actually be able to find them again. So this post is without pictures.
I think it was a mistake to say all PR s are dreadfulwhen sitting next to a fellow PR in the ski chalet. She may also hate me.
I think I was incredibly lucky to arrive in the blazing sun, have snow overnight and perfect conditions the next day.
I think I will return home several kilos heavier after eating from dawn to dusk.
I think I feel sorry for The Boy who is marching across the Lake District in the wind, the rain and the cold
I think I'm very lucky to be spending a week with some very dear old friends.
