We woke up late, again. Chamonix seems to do this to me. I blame it on the clear air and the snug warm apartment, but perhaps this time it was also because the streets were very quiet. Father Christmas had done his job and most people seemed to be pre-occupied in doors.
Eventually we got out and enjoyed the whitest, fluffiest of snow with the bluest of skies. Ahhh, this is Chamonix at Christmas.
The slopes were very quiet, and after a few exhausting runs we decided to stop for lunch.
A few more exhausting runs later we decided to call it a day and head on down to the valley for Christmas cake.
… followed swiftly with the full Christmas feast and an evening of Chrstmas TV.