Exactly 5 months ago as I write (2^nd May), MG and I were at both the bottom and top of the hill (together and not at the same time 😏): Bozel and Courchevel. Bozel was green. And so was Courchevel. The only things white were my frightened little cheeks. In such circumstances, the usual sequence of events would be as follows:

1. No snow yet
2. Telegraph ski supplement: “NO SNOW ANYWHERE IN EUROPE EVER AGAIN! SKIING IS DOOMED! GO TO JAPAN, OR AMERICA! DON’T GO TO THE ALPS! THERE’S NO SNOW! ALL THE RESORTS ARE CLOSING DOWN!”
3. Enquiries (and bookings); cliff; fall off
4. Snow falls just in time as usual. A lot
5. Telegraph ski supplement: “ “

Hence my poor little white cheeks.

At least it was very cold.

Exactly 4 months and 30 days ago, MG and I were in La Tania. It snowed and snowed and snowed. And then snowed some more. I posted on Facebook around that time “We’re going to need a bigger shovel”

And so, for at least four months, we had fabulous snow conditions. The pistes were impeccable and there were plenty of bluebird powder days.

I can only speculate on the Telegraph’s continual battering of the European ski industry:

• The supplement is actually a magazine of the Mail, not the Telegraph
• They’re talking about a ski resort on the lower slopes of the Jura mountains that some farmer built on a spare meadow, with one old button lift, no snow cannons and a chain-harrow as a piste basher.
• They owners of the Telegraph also own shares in Vail and/or Alterra
• They mistakenly hired a second-rate novelist and not a journalist.

So, of course, the moral of this bit of the story is don’t believe everything you read in the Telegraph ski supplement, especially when it comes to skiing. It’s about as accurate as the pronouncements of the orange man-child.

Which leads me neatly on to the small but perfectly formed SFT team. Not that any of them are orange men-children, thankfully, but they tackled the huge and largely unpleasant task of clearing many square meters of snow on a regular basis at 0700 hours with enthusiasm, at least initially. The enthusiasm did eventually morph gradually into a more stoic shovelling, but there were very few times they had to be reminded.

As usual, we have been extremely fortunate with everyone in the team (we had one little hiccup, but that’s not for sharing here much as I’m tempted). They have been the perfect hosts from the day they arrived.

Charlotte and Cam (aka “The Old Married Couple”) were your hosts in Ava. From day 1 they bickered good-naturedly pretty much continuously.

Cam was out skiing pretty much every day so his skiing improved immensely as you would expect. His skiing goal for the season was that he would be able to out-ski his Dad. It’s not for me to judge, at least not publicly, but I can say that his Dad is pretty good….

My skiing assessment? I don’t know. He’s too fast

Charlotte addresses the slopes like she addresses pretty much everything and everyone: take no sh!t. Now, that’s not meant to be in any way uncomplimentary. In fact, quite the opposite. Charlotte’s skiing is calm and understated: a piste graced with her attention will certainly know if it hasn’t behaved commensurate with expectations.

Jazz and Freya looked after Amber this season. They’re sisters whose home base in the UK is Glastonbury, so they can aften be found wandering round in pointy hats and purple gowns decorated with astrological symbols. Both have long flowing beards.

Jazz is a FAB cook amongst fab cooks – we all looked forward to a meal prepared by Jazz. She’s nearly half-way to her bus pass, but that hasn’t stopped her making the most of the après. A typical conversation with Jazz would be as follows: Day 1 at 9am. “how are you this morning, Jazz?” “I’m feeling a bit rough to be honest. I’m going to have a night in tonight”. Day 2 at 9am. “how are you this morning, Jazz?” “I’m feeling a bit rough to be honest. I’m going to have a night in tonight”.

My skiing assessment? Lazy. Like me, but with added style and speed. Following her down Plan Fontaine is like the view from Max Verstappen’s car in an episode of ‘Drive to Survive’. Not much apparent effort going on, but lesser mortals are left in her wake.

Freya’s cooking is also up there with them, but her real strength is in the hosting. She’s brilliant with guests, especially children. Watching her in action is nothing less than inspiring and (as an employer) certainly gladdens one’s heart!

My skiing assessment? Having never put a pair of skis on when she arrived, she is now MUCH better than she thinks she is. I can be pulling some stylish shapes at speed and stop to wait for her, turn round and ‘BOO’ she’s right behind me. Great posture; great weight distribution. The best thing, though, is that she hasn’t been tempted, sheep-like, to try the dark side.

I know I say this every year, but it doesn’t make it any less true: it has been a real pleasure to work with these young folk. Without a whiff of hyperbole, they are truly brilliant and their commitment to giving our guests (you guys) a great time has been admirable. You’ve only got to look at our (theirs, actually) Tripadvisor reviews, which gained us a prestigious TripAdvisor 2025 ‘Top 10%’ award.

No State of the Season report would be complete – indeed possible – without you, dear reader, our guest or at least potential guest.

I am frequently requested to spill the beans a bit more liberally, spreading guestly anecdotes without due care and attention. While this is immediately gratifying in that it indicates that more than one person actually reads this drivel, a little critical thinking leads one to conclude that this may not be the wisest idea in terms of marketing; reading a story about a guest that had such a good time at the Ski Lodge that on returning to the chalet they destroyed the shower and (without going in to too much detail) blocked the plumbing may be amusing until you realise it’s you.

What I will do, though, is let you into one or two generic secrets from your hosts point of view

• When in the kitchen preparing your dinner, your hosts wear an invisibility cloak and are concentrating so hard on peeling the potatoes that they cannot hear what you are saying. Therefore it is impossible for them to snigger when you proclaim knowingly to your fellow guests that the quickest way to VT from La Tania is via Ariondaz, or that one’s weight should be concentrated on the outer edge of the uphill ski when carving, or that it is impossible for a pedestrian to get to Le Praz other than by bus or walking down the road.
• When your hosts have spent a considerable amount of thought, time and care into preparing you a vegetarian, gluten- or dairy-free meal, the biggest compliment you can pay them on their cooking is to say, “Ooh, that turkey looks nice! Perhaps I’ll have a little slice.” or “I’m sure some French bread won’t hurt; it’s got far fewer additives in than the UK stuff.” or “No, the cheesecake’s fine. It’s raw cream cheese I can’t have.” That’s a genuine smile of pleasure that you’re seeing, and they are in no way thinking of imaginative uses for a baguette.
• Please don’t limit yourself to just a few minutes’ chat to your host while they are cooking. They would much prefer you to stand in the entrance to the kitchen and regale them for an hour and a half from 6pm about the quality of Jerusalem and how full you are after a late lunch at La Loy. In a similar vein, if you need to fill up the water jug 20 times before dinner, any time after 7:15 is fine.
• They certainly won’t roll their eyes when you ask them if it’s OK to cook a full English on morning’s off when they have told you just 5 minutes ago in the welcome speech that sadly you are not insured to use the kitchen.

None of the above ever happens to Ski First Tracks hosts, of course.

Like with our small but perfectly formed team, I know I always say this, but that doesn’t make it any less true and I say it without a whiff of hyperbole: having you come and stay with us makes all the hard work worthwhile; it’s the bit that’s the most fun (except for the skiing of course!). If you’re guest that haven’t been to us before, there’s the anticipation of what the week will bring; if you’ve been before we always look forward to picking up where we left off and, nearly always, having a great laugh. Literally, we couldn’t do it without you, and we couldn’t do it without you. Thank you.

A few mentions. Indulge me.

• To AL, CB, JB, NB, RC and others that come several times a year, every year. It’s always a pleasure and it’s always fun (I can’t tell you how much I look forward to hearing about Dundee United)
• To the Wa family (x2), the Sm family, the O’H family, and all of you that get groups together and have come to see us every year since we started. We always look forward to seeing you and your support really does mean a huge amount to us.

A very few guestial highlights picked from the many I have chosen. Humour me.

• The introduction by David H of ‘The Moon’s in the Spoon’ ‘game’ at Christmas. We have subjected week after week of guests to this torture, certainly in Jacqueline. I haven’t experienced actual physical violence yet, but it’s been close. Thankfully, people have generally chosen to leave the chalet for a while rather than punch me in the face. Rude words have been used liberally.
• The introduction by Jolyon P of ‘Two up, two down, one up’ more recently. Ditto. I’m not brave enough to deploy both games in the same week. I would rather like people to come back.
• If you have visited Jacqueline you will know that I am a curmudgeonly old git, so those of you that have managed to get me to smile, let alone laugh until I cried, definitely deserve a mention. You’ll know who you are….
• The No Cheese week. Always fun

But what of the season itself?

Well, it’s been a season of three halves, which can be summed up as follows:

• First half: Horrendous
• Middle half: Busy
• Final half: Lacking required guidance

First half

It didn’t start well. Training was delayed due, shall we say, to self-inflicted illness brought about by excessive exuberance and excitement. Still, it got done, eventually, and due to a relatively soft start the members of our little team were able to get to know each other and, of course, stake their claim to the Ski Lodge.

The trouble really started on Christmas Day, which this year was a bluebird day. We set off, as is tradition, for a gentle team ski with the intention of ending with a refreshing sherry at the Bouc Blanc. Our Ted, who many of you will know from the last two seasons, was with us although he is not working with us this year owing to a proper job disciplining recalcitrant robots. I won’t bore you with the full conversation, but essentially it followed a typical pattern with which many of you parents will be familiar: ‘I want to do that’, ‘I’d rather you didn’t do that’, ‘you can’t stop me so I’m gong to do it anyway’. In this case, the ‘do that’ was a detour to the park.

Now, our Ted is a pretty good skier. In fact he’s the best skier I know by a long way (yes, I know he’s my son). He thinks (thought) he was made of titanium. Well, he is now partially, as, owing to a schoolboy error on a small mound of snow about six inches high which was not even in the park proper, he transformed a perfectly good collar bone into cornflakes. I was displeased, but managed to find a modicum of sympathy, even though I missed my sherry.

This being France, he was booked into Albertville hospital for an appointment with the jigsaw team on the following Friday (Christmas Day was Wednesday you may recall). Ollie, our eldest, was due to fly home from Grenoble on Friday. Luckily, Albertville is on the way to Grenoble. Unluckily, the slave cylinder failed on my car on the Thursday.

As this could go one for quite a while and you know how I like to ramble on, I will henceforth summarise the remainder of the first half troubles:

Drive to Grenoble/Albertville with no clutch (ruining the gearbox in the process)

Arrange for hire car – and taxi to take us to hire car – for Monday. Taxi doesn’t arrive. Catch bus. Bus doesn’t arrive. Hitch a ride to Moutiers. Enterprise acknowledges that we have arranged a car but haven’t got one for us. I get a little petulant. They find an electric car. ‘How much charge does it have?’ ‘8km’ ‘Great 80km, that will do’ ‘No, 8km’. Nearly 2 hours later we had enough charge to get us back to La Tania. Take Ted to airport. Spend many hours charging the car (note to self: DO NOT buy an electric car). Go shopping. Hire car hit by French VW. Enterprise take 1700€ off me. The icy waters of the Isere look very inviting. My car towed to garage. Quote for 2800€. I don’t know the vernacular French for ‘You’re having a larf’ but I had a good go. I’m sure the garage proprietor said something along the lines of ‘Vous êtes anglais, donc stupide. Et puis, je vous ai dessus un tonneau’

There’s more, but it’s making me a little faint reliving it, so I’ll spare you the rest.

Middle half

Busy. Busy chalets, busy pistes, busy Ski Lodge. Great conditions, great weather, but busy, busy, busy

Final half

I am, just, a man and therefore need direction and guidance regularly and continually. Being a man, this direction and guidance needs to be delivered in such a way that I am unaware of its delivery and preferably that it is self-generated. As many of you who have stayed in Jacqueline will know, I’m extremely lucky in that I have a highly competent carer in MG, who deploys the required instruction and mentoring with such skill that I’m generally oblivious to any intervention.

Unfortunately, what is amusingly called the summer season in north Devon overlaps with the winter season here in La Tania. Not even MG and I can both be in both Lynmouth and La Tania at the same time and so it was decreed that MG would return to open the caff at the beginning of March. And so there was a tearful (from me) goodbye at Grenoble.

The departure of MG left me somewhat disconcerted and more than a little bemused. Guests put calming hands on my shoulder to steady the nervous rocking on the balls of my feet. They have kindly guided me to a chair when they have found me studying a blank wall.

MG has been missed, not just by me but by some of our regulars. Luckily, our guests may have actually benefited as they have been recipients of Jazz and Freya’s cooking at dinner rather than mine. On the other hand, this has left me free to pontificate widely at the dinner table.

The reunion with MG was a couple of weeks ago. I WhatsApped her prior to departure to convey my excitement. I’m sure her blank look and apparent inability to remember my name was down to pressure of work.

Anyway, I have rambled on far too long as usual. 500 words seems to have expanded to nearly 3000. It’s time to draw the drivel to a close.

As you may know, we’re holding this year’s prices for next season. We had a little promotion going whereby if you booked before the end of April for next season we gave you a 10% ‘early booking’ discount. If you have got this far, you deserve a little reward, so if weren’t quite ready to book by the end of April, quote DRIVEL when you book and we’ll give you 10% off until the end of June. PLUS, if you take the whole chalet, you get a free place!

À la saison prochaine!

Jonty