I slept like a log after that first day's skiing. I remember now that sleeping incredibly well is an integral part of a skiing holiday. As are muscles that are so pleased to be being used for the first time in ages that they display a fire-like passion upon any movement whatsoever. Or put another way, I'm in agony! I know it's all doing me good though and so after a quick breakfast it's time to go to my first ski lesson.
The English-speaking teacher I had been promised only teaches people up to parallel level, so I am moved to another class that's more my level (not perfect, but reasonable – happy with red runs and handle the odd black run). This is taught by Maestro Ricardo – who has no English, but speaks fluent Ladino (the local dialect), Italian with a very strong Ladino accent, and German with a very strong incomprehensible accent. At least the class is the right level though and so we get through the morning well... We do lots of the runs I did with Icaro yesterday, but slower and paying more attention to my (lack of) technique.
Daryl is feeling much better today, and has walked the dog this morning – that's such a treat for me at the moment. However, the exercise has knackered her and any swift and dedicated return to the slopes is probably further away than we thought. She comes up the Cabina for lunch and we meet on the mountain. She's cheered by the sight of the snow and the skiers, which encourages her to come skiing tomorrow.
I do another hour or so, wafting down mountains as stylishly as I can and drifting in and out of cloud and snow. Then it's back to the hotel for the delights of the pool, Jacuzzi and spa in general.
Finished off the day with a fantastic fondue (yes, THAT fondue). I think there were 14 different dips! It was bloody lovely and worth all the foolish questions at reception.
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