One of the evening activities organised by Skiworld during our ski week was a quiz night, which I must admit, I have quite the penchant for. The only downer was that it didn’t start until 10 PM!

Still, we managed to round up a team of nine, and along we went for the ride. It was actually a pretty decent evening in the end – even the drinks weren’t terribly overpriced, at €5 for a JD and coke. We don’t know how our team (“Quizzing in the Name Of”) fared, as they only announced last place, and the top three (of which we were in neither); but we did secure victory in the Aluminium Foil Sculpture round.

Basically, we had to make something out of a sheet of aluminium foil, on the theme of a circus. Todd took the bull by the horns, and sculpted us a cannon (i.e. the human cannonball) – and quite an impressive one at that! It even had wheels, and a 1p coin in the back to weight it correctly!

Impressive, no?! Was there ever any doubt that we wouldn’t win? Especially compared to one of the other teams who simply wrapped three champagne flutes in alfoil, juggled them, and then dropped (and broke) one. Pah! Pathetic.

This post is as much for the memories as it is a reference for if we find ourselves in the Three Valleys again! Here’s a few standouts for me:

Best Eat In Meal

We ate at the restaurant at the bottom of the Granges and Teppes lifts on Thursday, and we were blown away by the value for money (well, it’s all relative!). For €12, I got a huge lasagne (big enough for two really, but hey – we were skiing all day!) as well as a side salad with lettuce, tomato, walnuts, and some other stuff. The meal was so big that I couldn’t even finish it – yes, I’m as shocked as you are, but it’s true! I also ordered the first café crème that I’d had all week, and it was fantastic.

Best of all, the middle of the restaurant had a huge fireplace, which had a shelf around its protective grill, so you could put your gloves/beanies/goggles/etc there to dry off while you ate, and then enjoy toasty warm fingers/heads/eyes/etc for the first 22 seconds when you stepped outside!

Best Take Out/Picnic Meal

On our first day we had randomly arranged to meet everyone for lunch at the base of the Mont Vallon chair. Kristy and I shared a massive tuna mayo baguette, and a bottle of lemon fanta, which came to the princely sum of €10. Yes, it wasn’t the cheapest place on the mountain, but that baguette was delicious, and it was worth it just to sit and bask in the sunlight for a while.

Best nutella crepe

Aubain and I were straight out onto the slopes as soon as we arrived on day one. Having not eaten lunch, we stopped for a quick snack at the top of the first lift we took, where I promptly ordered: “One nutella crepe thanks love!”. Turns out the bird didn’t speak Australian, as instead of starting to prepare my piece of chocolate heaven, she simply looked at me with a somewhat confused expression on her face.

Thankfully Aubain – fluent in both Australian and French – came to the rescue, and said “une crêpe nutella”, which she had no trouble understanding. Now to me, they sounded pretty much identical, but I guess this is why Australian’s aren’t known for their language skills.

Anyway, her ignorance of the Australian language (as well as the pre-made-then-reheated crepes) cost her the title of “best nutella crepe”, which instead has to go to the little green crepe stand in Meribel-Mottaret. We only discovered it on Thursday, but you can bet your bananas that we were right back there on Friday. €3.50 of pure nutella ecstasy!

Best toilets

The cold weather (and possibly the altitude, though I don’t know how) was playing havoc with my bladder all week, and no matter what I tried, I needed to pee as soon as we hit the top of the first lift. (Too much information?) The toilets at the top of the Morel lift (or more accurately, at the bottom of the Altiport (Meribel) lift) were always there to offer a little piece of ceramic comfort. Not only were they immaculately clean, but there was only two stairs to traverse to get there! That’s a huge comfort when you’re busting, and wearing ski boots – ordinarily a fatal combination!

Coldest lift

Yes, it’s not really an award that any lift would want to win, however the St Martin 2 chairlift was so much colder than any other, that I just had to give it a mention. Kristy, Eva and I had the “pleasure” of riding up it on Thursday afternoon, only moments after learning that it was -17˚C at the base. High up in the air, between two valleys acting as a wind tunnel, we almost died of frostbite. We tried to comfort ourselves by thinking the warmest thoughts that we could… curry… beaches… under floor heating…

Kristy decided to take things one step further, riding about 2/3rds the way up with her ski jacket unzipped! I tells ya, she’s hardcore!

They say that “all good things must come to an end” and in the case of our week of skiing, that stupid cliche came true yesterday when we got back to London. To be fair, I think everyone was happy to be resting their tired muscles after a week on the slopes; but a relaxing weekend in our chalet followed by another week of skiing would have been a much better outcome than having to come home!

Our chalet was in Merbiel, which – along with Courchevel and Val Thorens – is part of the largest ski area in the world, known as “The Three Valleys”. One thing I can definitely say about the area is that there is an absolute metric crapton of snow – way more snow than I’ve ever seen before. And, since we were also higher than we’ve ever skiied before (the highest slope we hit was just over 3000m), the quality of the snow was generally amazing.

We were very lucky to enjoy perfect weather on our first few days, but the clouds rolled in on Tuesday night, bringing with them a fresh dump of snow. By morning the weather hadn’t improved at all; four of us did venture up to the top of our closest mountain, but the fog was so thick we could barely see each other, even just a few metres apart. It took us about an hour to very cautiously ski back down!

Still, even though hitting the pistes were out of the question we weren’t going to let all that fresh powder go to waste! And given that our “backyard” consisted of a fairly steep, wide open hill, Giovanni and Suzie found some shovels and slaved away building a huge kicker! I must admit, it took quite a bit of courage just to hit it, and it seemed even bigger once you were in the air! But the landing pad was like a well fluffed pillow, which I think we were all very thankful for…

The visibility certainly improved on Thursday, though the snow continued to fall well into the afternoon – so much so that they didn’t bother grooming the slopes until after the resort had closed for the day. Still, boatloads of powder, freshly groomed runs, and perfect visibility added up to an unbeatable day of skiing on Friday – just a pity it had to be right at the end of our trip!

Aubain, Ingrid, Kristy and I took the opportunity to venture as far as possible, and after about three hours, we managed to make it to the eastern most point of the resort, and into The Fourth Valley – one of the most beautiful places that I have ever seen, in all the world. Photos don’t do it any justice!

This trip was also both colder and hotter than any other ski trip we’ve done. Thursday and Friday were especially cold – it was -17˚C at the base of one of the lifts, and that doesn’t account for windchill, nor the 1,000 metres or so of extra altitude at the peaks. I was mostly warm enough in two thermal layers, a fleece, a neck warmer, and the hardshell outer layers, but the wind rushing in and out of my goggles (which prevents fogging) was enough to give me a brain freeze! It’s even worse when you’re sitting on an “open plan” ski lift, as you’re not moving to keep warm, you’re up in the air, and you’ve got no protection from the elements! Brrrrrrr!!

On the contrary, our ski chalet was way too hot! Everything had in built heating – the rooms, the floors – even the sofas! And there was a problem with the wiring, which meant none of the thermostats worked properly (neither did the lights – they flicked on and off at random – but that’s another story). Most of the time we needed a door or window left open just to balance out the temperature a bit, and the hot, dry air meant everyone woke up feeling dehydrated each morning. Still, we can’t complain too much – too hot is definitely better than too cold!

All in all, it was a pretty amazing trip, and given how far in advance it had been planned, I’m still in disbelief that it’s already over. My fingers are crossed for a second ski trip this season; I just can’t get enough of it!

More photos in the skiing and the kicker albums.

The people who named the towns around Devon must have all been bald old men with combe-overs, as almost all of the local towns seemed to end in “combe” – like Woolacombe, where we stopped for a strut along the beach. Nick decided to show off his rock-climbing prowess, all the while boasting about the power of his hiking boots.

Our lunch was at Saunton Sands, at The Sands Cafe Bar. Nick and I both ordered the Thai mussels, and they were probably the biggest and best bowl of mussels that I’ve ever eaten! Unfortunately, the hungrier I am, the quicker I seem too forget to take a photo of my food; so here’s the after shot which I took on my iPhone:

One thing I find funny (though practical!) are the colourful little huts that the English build at the edge of their beaches. I’m not entirely sure how they work, though I believe you have to rent them for the whole season; I also believe this comes at a significant cost. Still, it would be quite handy to have somewhere close to the beach to store all your stuff, if you were a frequent visitor. And, they are very colourful!

Nick, Suzie and I had a surf lesson booked for “all day” Saturday (four hours, with a one hour break in between) and a half-day on Sunday. Though we were all keen for the lesson, we’d all have been lying if we said we were keen to leave the comforts of our lodge to jump into the freezing cold water. Even with a full length wetsuit (a “steamer”), it was freezing! All the moving around certainly helped keep us warm, but my feet were so badly cramped by the end of the day, that now, almost four days later, they’re still sore!

In the end, I was the only one that made it through the whole day – Suzie picked up a stomach bug at some point and was in such excruciating pain that she and Nick pulled out of the afternoon session. Thankfully it passed rather quickly, and by Saturday evening, she was healthy enough to enjoy a BBQ on the back deck with the rest of us!

The burgers were particularly good – GBK, eat your heart out!

We checked out of our accommodation on Monday morning, and took a scenic route back to London. Our first stop was at Tunnels Beaches at Ilfracombe, which proudly boasts itself to be the third best beach for rock pooling in the UK. I’m not entirely sure what that means, neither am I sure if you could actually swim at the so-called beach, as the water looked pretty festy to me. Still, the tunnels were cool, and the scenery really was quite lovely!

Our final stop was for a tradition that originated in Devon – a Devonshire Cream Tea. Nick found a place called The Buttery which got rave reviews, though having now been there, I suspect the reviews were for the idyllic location and not the service. The girl behind the counter was extremely agitated with our outlandish requests, such as, “Can I have a latte instead of a tea with mine? I don’t mind paying extra”.

Luckily, the cream tea was sensational, and given that studies have shown that binging on clotted cream adds years to your life, I was careful to ensure I consumed my fair share.

We were dreading the drive back to London, figuring that the quickest way to ruin a lovely weekend is by being stuck in traffic for three hours; however we couldn’t have been more surprised to find the roads almost entirely clear! We made it back in record time!

A huge thanks to Suzie for organising everything, and for letting us tag along at the last minute!

We decided to gate-crash Nick and Suzie’s idea of spending the long weekend down in Devon. We left work promptly yesterday afternoon at 4 PM for the three-and-a-half hour drive, expecting that we’d hit a little traffic on the way. Well, seven hours later, and we finally arrived at our lodge at Mullacott Park!

I didn’t sleep so grand last night – first time in a foreign bed and all that. So now I’m sitting on the couch contemplating if I should cut my toe nails or not, whilst the others are all fast asleep in their rooms. C’mon dudes, let’s get this weekend underway!

After four glorious weeks in Australia, we were unfortunately out of annual leave and had to head back. We finished off our time with a family brunch at Vagelis on Racecourse Road. I ordered the Meatlovers omlette, which I was pleased to see lived up to its reputation of, “Biggest omlette in Brisbane” (well, probably anyway).

We left with so many fantastic memories, only some of which I’ve already written about; for the record, here are some of the others:

• Nick, Dad Harvey, Kristy and I did the Story Bridge Adventure Climb on the last Friday. It was ridiculously hot up there but provided a sensational view over Brisbane.
• We caught up with a bunch of people over steak and a XXXX off the wood at the Brekkie Creek hotel – was awesome to see Glen and Anita again, and to see Micah and meet his lovely “new” girlfriend, Sarah!
• We met a few more babies – handsome little Oli Dahl, social redhead Josh Cottee, and the littlest baby of all – Dr Al and Suz’s two-day old little girl, “Showna”! (Working title only)
• We ate quite a few local “delicacies”, including Moreton Bay Bug (yum!), and kangaroo (jury still out!)
• Nick and I managed to go to two theme parks in one day – Wet ‘n Wild, and Dreamworld. Dreamworld was especially empty, so much so that we managed to go on the Giant Drop three times, and most other rides twice! In half a day!
• We enjoyed a spot of Barefoot Bowls at Norman Park with Kristy’s folks.
• Kristy discovered, and was converted to, Chinese herbs after a tip off from a “trusted source”.

Each time we’ve visited Australia, it gets a little harder to leave again, and this time was no exception. A huge thanks to everyone that managed to fit us in to their hectic schedules, for the meals, desserts, and all round good company; and an even bigger apology to those people that we missed – hopefully we’ll see you all again soon!

There’s only one way to properly follow up a few nights at Kingscliff, and that’s with a few nights at Burleigh. So from Sunday to Tuesday, Nick stayed with Kristy and I, plus Mum and Dad Harvey at the Mediterranean Resort on North Burleigh beach. We had an amazing view from our ninth floor apartment!

We spent a few hours in Surfers, where we took Nick up Q1 for the best view of the Gold Coast. I think Nick best summed up the view by saying, “I can see why you don’t have any trouble with crowding on your beaches here – it’s huge!”. It’s so easy to forget how lucky we are in Queensland!

Nick also wanted to have a surfing lesson while he was in Australia, so he hooked one up for Monday morning with some mob he found on the internet. When we jumped in the car, our instructor introduced himself as “Munga”, a name which rang some bells for me but I couldn’t place initially. Eventually it came to me and I said to him, “you’re not Munga as in, Munga Barry, are you?”, and to my surprise, it most certainly was! I was floored!

Suffice to say, the guy knows a thing or two about catching a wave, and for an hour and a half, he passed on some of his wisdom to us. It was great fun – extremely tiring but very rewarding. After the lesson, we hired a board to share between us for further practice, but it would seem that neither of us are ready to enter the world championship’s just yet. I’m still much more comfortable on my trusty old Manta Speed!

The other highlight of our visit to the Goldie was dinner at Moo Moo steakhouse. Brother Jason wisely instructed us to get the house special – a 1KG roast steak, which is so amazing it defies description. Stupidly, I didn’t have my camera to take a photo of it, but without doubt, it was the best steak that I have ever eaten, and I’m thoroughly looking forward to the day that I order another one!

No visit to Australia would be complete without meeting a kangaroo, so we arranged for Nick to do precisely that with a day out at Australia Zoo. As you can see, he was quite the hit with his furry friends; this young fella even gave him a bit of a bear hug! (As it turns out, being hugged by a kangaroo isn’t a good thing; they have rather sharp claws on their front little legs!)

It was also the first time that either Kristy and I had been there, and I must admit that I was impressed with how well the place is run. The staff are enthusiastic, the shows are interesting, and even the food is pretty tasty (albeit a little on the expensive side).

My favourite exhibit was Koala island (I think that’s what it was called), where a heap of hungry koalas were gather to gorge themselves on gumleaves to the amusement of us watching tourists.

Kudos also to the snake exhibit which was awesome. It never ceases to amaze me how many venomous snakes we have in Australia; in fact, the world’s most venomous snake, uncreatively called the Fierce Snake, calls Australia home. One bite has enough venom to drop 100 adults! Yowsers!

(Note that this isn’t the Fierce Snake, but it’s the best snake photo that I got.)

Nick decided to tail us for the our second two weeks in Australia, so he could see what all the fuss is about. We decided that the best way for him to overcome his jetlag was to immediately get him out and about, so we took him for brunch in Roma Street Parklands, lunch in New Farm Park, then a drink at Riverside at dusk.

He managed to make it until about 8 PM on his first day; an admirable effort after 24 hours in transit!

We stayed two nights at Cradle Mountain, in the beautiful Currawong cabin right on the edge of the national park. I had a great photo of the front of the cabin that ordinarily I’d have put here; but unfortunatly I deleted it from the camera thinking that I had downloaded it (clearly, I hadn’t). So, here’s a postcard perfect photo of me instead.

The reason “Cradle Mountain” is named as such is because the middle part (kind-of the valley between the peaks) looks like a baby lying on its back, with it’s arms folded across it’s chest. The peaks either side then represent the cradle. Or so it goes.

If you’re not convinced, just remember the guy that named it had apparently had a drink or two at the time…

Anyway, we turned up early and did the “Dove Lake” walk, which was essentially a two-hour walk around the lake below the mountain. Truth be told I didn’t enjoy this walk as much as some of the others that we did; but regardless, it was still beautiful scenery, and it was wonderful to be outside!