I have finally worked out what it is that women don’t like about men. This revelation can be indirectly attributed to Leonardo who was found by a German at 11pm in the lobby of the hotel.
“Please take better care of your children at this time,” read a note the German left me the following morning.
How I’m supposed to take care of my children while fast asleep is beyond me. I asked Leo what he was doing in the lobby. “Talking to peoples,” he replied. Anyway, it was clear that either Rupert or I would have to share a room with him to avoid him running into any more Germans. Talking of running into Germans, I literally did, I failed to stop at the bottom of a piste where the snow had been turned into slush, which I thought would slow me down. Sadly it didn’t.
“First you must learn to stop ze skis,” bellowed the German.
“And you must learn to stop invading Poland,” was on the tip of my tongue but I thought better of it.
When we got back from dinner last night Olivia was still awake.
“Do you want to share a room with me?” Rupert asked her.
“No,” she replied. “You snore and you’ve got a willy.”
Other highlights from Zermatt include seeing Leo on skis for the first time (how cute was he?); my first ski with the girls who have very different techniques. Bea just points her skis down the mountain and shrieks, Olivia is more into the careful turns. I miss waking up to a view of the Matterhorn and of course the lovely Ed whom Olivia talks about constantly. She misses her new best friend that she made in the Yeti Ski Club too, conveniently also called Olivia. Apart from skiing with the children my two favourite moments were afternoon tea on my terrace in the sun and an evening walk on the hills around Zermatt.
Zermatt is lovely and I am determined to make it back there soon. We are on our way to Geneva now where we stop for the night before heading home. Geneva is a great place; but I feel rather like Heidi when she is carted away from the Alps to Frankfurt. As I watch the mountains vanish in the distance I am already yearning for them.
Copyright: Helena Frith Powell