Chamonix, France Ski Holiday


England. Switzerland. France. And back again. Our European ski holiday in Chamonix was spectacular. A picturesque ski village tucked in the Alps. The sheer grandeur of the mountains is indescribable. The pictures are stunning but don’t show the scale. It was every bit a postcard.

The ski map of the area was laid out like Disney World and we had access to ski at multiple mountains.

Ski conditions on our first day were bright, sunny and serene. Perfect. The views of the surrounding mountains were epic. There were professional skiers mountaineering off piste to the mountain tops, then skiing down making perfect patterns in the snow. It was like an advert for Patagonia. We paused for lunch, complete with big beers on the cafe deck. I have not felt the sun in months, and it was beyond rejuvenating. Kisses vitamin D.

The following ski days did not disappoint, but we had clouds and snow. If not for that first sunny day, we would have completely missed the views. We got lucky.

I was total crap awful on the first run of the day, and Andrew and his dad were pretty worried that it would be a long few days. Fast forward a day and a few small bumps, I was becoming a beginner skier. Yes, I should have taken lessons but I saved money and bought some ridiculous Sorel’s instead. Priorities people. Plus, if I actually shut up and listened, Andrew was a wonderful coach.

By the last day, I was skiing in powder doing advanced paths — we’re talking Reds. That was wicked. Thank you YouTube ski instructor.

I’ll miss my morning croissant, coffee and Cocoa Krispies, and my evenings of cheap-good French wine in a hot tub.

Merci, Chamonix! x

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Someplace warm. A place where the beer flows like wine.

Oh, I don’t know, Lloyd. The French are a**holes.

This week we’re hitting the slopes in Chamonix-Mont-Blanc in France. How do you say “bunny slope” in French? My ski instructor better be smoking hot. I am actually thinking more about snow shoeing and cross country skiing. It’s supposed to be breathtaking, so let’s hear it for the scenic views and hot tubs. Whoop.

Andrew has been talking about this trip non fracking stop is really looking forward to this ski trip. I’m looking forward to seeing another country, well a couple since the town borders Italy.

See you little croissants soon! Arrivederci!

How To Make Proper English Tea

I like my coffee black. I hate sweeteners in my coffee or tea. I think coffee should be strong, and it should put hair on the chest. When I was asked to make tea for my English mates, I tightened up. Sure I know how to “make tea,” but making it proper is a whole other story. I brew you not…

Thankfully I received a proper lesson on making English tea. (clearing throat)

1. Get the water boiling hot. (Yes, Captain Obvious.)
2. Add the hot water to ye ol cup o tea.
3. Sing the Happy Birthday song whilst your tea bag brews. (seems to be about enough time)
4. Add milk. [Pay attention.] The tea should be a vanillay-caramel colour. If you think you’ve added a touch too much milk, it’s probably just the right amount.
5. Scoop the tea bag out of the cup and squish it against the side to get out the last bit of tea.
6. Taste test. Drumroll. Boston Tea Party.

You laugh, but it’s serious business over here. And before you say, “Yuck, milk,” you’ll find it cuts the bittnerness of the tea. Thank me later.

Morning Coffee & Afternoon Tea

Cryptic
Sly fox
Sketchy little f*
Whatever you’re up to, it’s no good.

All the positive feedback I received after posting about the big week. But thank you for your support. Mwhaha. I’m a thrilled to be an official member of the professional amateur Olympic Half Marathon team. If you want to know, you know how to ask.

A new schedule this week to be followed by a ski excursion next week in France. I have got to get back on some kind of routine.

Andrew’s pops is in town this weekend and we are looking forward to showing him the scene around Shropshire.

So for this Morning Coffee & Afternoon Tea edition I leave with you with some inspiration.

Photo Of The Week

Hey guess what we did this weekend?!?! If you said, “What is hiking,” give yourself 10 points. Thanks for playing at home.

Whilst the hus was mountain biking/gallivanting all over God’s green creation Dr Jones and I were left for hours to wander the trails on our own. And the white cows never cease to entertain Indy. It’s true what the say about the little things.

What? Like you don’t hike in Ray Bans? It’s the poshiest.

Oh and here’s a close second – clip of the week. Indy’s parents promise to be more responsible and buy a real safety light….next time.

Secrets, Secrets Are No Fun


The secret to having it all…is knowing you already do.

Hi, I’m Nichole and I like to keep some things to myself. If you’re new here, sorry, my blog my rules. Today is a VERY big day. Dare I venture and say, epic? Today is marking something new in our journey across the pond. I’m uber excited but will wait to share the details; don’t want to go jinxing anything. It’s like the mixing of church and state; I try not to mix business with pleasure.

Here’s a hint: I baked for the occasion.

I know, what a crappy hint. Let’s say that my freelancing/freeloading days are coming to an end. But most of all thank the good graces above for allowing some things to work out just the way they should just when they were supposed to. God has a sense of humour, trust me I’m proof.

Indiana’s A Local & There’s A Ladder In My Tights


That’s the face of a pup at his first local. The Boathouse is our Sunday Funday home, especially when it’s warm enough to sit out by the river. We took Indy Saturday evening to scope out the joint. He met some lovely people and sat down almost long enough for a picture.

You learn something new every day, or in this case from watching an advert.

Me: Got a “ladder in your tights?”
Gal pal: Yes, a ladder.
Me: What, like a run?
Gal pal: A run?
Me: In your hose.
Gal pal: A run in your panty hose? Hose?!
Me: Well, what’s a ladder… a run!
Gal pal: So if I go to America and need tights I ask for panty hose?
Me: Yes.
Gal pal: What happens if I ask for tights?
Me: You’ll end up in leggings.

Hope your weekend was as lovely and random.

European Vacation Destination #2: Chamonix-Mont-Blanc

Color me spoiled. My amazing hus has planned a proper ski holiday to Chamonix-Mont-Blanc in France.

Situated near the massive peaks of the Aiguilles Rouges, Chamonix shares the summit of Mont Blanc with its neighboring commune of Courmayeur in Italy, and owns the title of highest commune in France. The commune is well known and loved by skiers and by mountain enthusiasts of all types. Mont Blanc, at a height of 4,810 metres, is the third most visited natural site in the world. With an area of 245 square kilometres, Chamonix is the fourth largest commune in mainland France.

In short, it’s amazeballs. I am going to have to step up my skiing game, which is currently at zero. I am actually looking forward to cross-country skiing and snowshoeing. And did someone say, luge?

Photo of the Week

I am a wannabe professional photographer. People always nip at me when I take too many photos at a party or whilst we are out, but the second I show them the pics they ask for a copy.

The United Kingdom is full of eye candy. Andrew and I can go on the same hike but have a completely different experience due to the constant change in weather. I am always snapping away. Sadly, on this weekend’s hike I didn’t have my iPhone. I have found that my iPhone 4 takes some ridiculously high quality pics, plus it’s travel-friendly. We were left with Andrew’s trusty Blackberry.

This is what we ended up with. I can only imagine how wicked this would have been in higher resolution. It looks like I am tackling Indy. It looks like Indy and I were plopped on a background at an Olan Mills studio. I haven’t even attempted to photoshop. Gorgeous.