Joyeux Noel

I am seated on Christmas Eve day at the table in the kitchen of Le Cave Americain admirably buzzing by way of a pastis waiting for the beef to thaw under a faucet drip in the sink. I have successfully arrived by way of the Geneva Switzerland airport with only one bag missing, the ski bag, notably t

he least important bag for a winter of skiing in the French Alps. After a session of broken English follo

wed by broken French, I came to understand my bag was left in London to arrive on the next flight to Geneva, pas de probleme, n'est pas? So Mike and I found plenty of time to

catch up while holed up in the Geneva airport waiting for the next flight from London to finally arrive.......pas de probleme!

Now Christmas in Courchevel is unexplectedly flat. At the mention of a European Christmas, all Americans co

njure images of quaint hillside villages with lights and music abound. Courchevel adamantly argues the contrary. Courchevel is a chic ski resort catering to the ostentatiously wealthy Rooski and Britt t

hat bless les pistes during Christmas and other European holidays. Therefore, Christmas is hardly recognizable until aujourd'hui when all the blue collar workers of the resort busily erect wreaths, tress, lights, bows, and all the other fan-fare expectly by the arriving monsieur ou mad

ame avec beaucoups de wealth. Today denotes the first signs of Christmas, and timely enough, it is Christmas Eve. To celebrate such a transformation in the ambience, I have decided to prepare a French inspired meal known as Beef Bourguignon. Therefore, the beef sits under a water drip in the kitchen sink to prompt a rapid thawing session. Et voila, an excellent excuse boire le pastis, aperitif anise.

As dripping water sera

nades in the background, I'll catch you all up on a week and half in France. The ski bag arrived, and Mike and I headed en route for Courchevel. After crossing the Swiss/French border, the town of Annecy presented itself as a suitable stopping point for la saucisson et le fromage et le pain, the staples of un pisteur diet. As we walked the narrow streets and enjoyed the pristine views of le lac avec a s illouette of the French Alps, we found all the necessary decadence for the week. Unfortunately, taking pictures escaped me as I struggled through my travel hang-over, but Annecy was absolutely the perfect introduction to France.

With daylight disappearing, we continued on along the valley floor. Reaching Moutiers, the climb to Courchevel began. Stacked hair-pin turns brought us quickly to snow level, then higher to views of the Alps (Parc Nation al de la Vanoise), and finally the end of the road presents Courchevel 1850 where our home for the winter is situated.

The following days Mike jumped back into his yellow securite des pistes ensemble, and tackled the life of a French pist eur. Custo ms like opening a bottle of white wine by 9:00am or cutting into le pain avec le fromage by 11 have not been difficult to adjust to. On the other hand, French patrollers have interesting neuroses around maintaining acceptable pistes. Each pisteur is responsible for a particular piste, and on this piste the bamboo marking the boundaries must be perfectly straight up and down and exactly in line with the following bamboo. So throughout the day, a pi

steur will venture out from his post in search of his piste to move slowly from one bamboo to the next straightening, adjusting, maneuvering. It's actually quite amusing to watch from a

higher point up on the mountain. Mike has thought to buy a level at a hardware store in Moutiers in order to Wo w the other French pisteurs with his immaculate bamboo. All in all, few dull moments.

Aside from skiing the pistes of Courchevel, Mike and I ventured into the backcountry between Moutiers and Alb

ertville with a friend of a friend named Pierre. Pierre thoughtfully introduced us to a fantastic area tha

t offered valley

after valley conveniently parallel with spectacular passes in between. The turns, the views , and of course le fromage et la saucisson were all fantastic. The road to approach such a gem is famously known to access Le Col

de la Madeleine, a notable leg of the Tour de France.

Unfortunately, I've been plagued with computer problems, possibly a virus, and it finally decided to crash all together. Most photos are held captive on my inoperable computer. Enjoy the few most recent. The photos include a line of bamboo, a view of Courchevel 1850 from Courchevel 1650 with a

ir balloon, Mont Blanc in the background from the Vizelle teleseige, piste maintenance, our apartment co mplex with our diesel van parked in front, Courchevel 1850 resort views, and La Saulire which is Mike's post.

Ah, the beef has thawed. It's time to tackle an all day recipe that includes beef, bacon, carrots, onion, and en entire bottle of Pinot Noir. Ummmmm, the French 15 (closely resembling the freshman 15) are threatening to overtake us.

Wishing everyone a Joyeux Noel!