Courchevel Here I Come!

After a Southern Hemisphere season ending with an injury and helicopter ride to hospital, I decided it was best to jump back on the horse and head to Europe for another winter. Courchevel, France to be exact. Although not before spending a few weeks in Auckland, extending my visa for an expected return to NZ.

Unfortunately I did not stay in Auckland or the UK long enough to get the metal wires removed from my wrist. However, after a sweet Sunshine Underground gig in York and a little bit of partying in Newcastle I did make time to at least see a doctor, but all I got was advice:

“Change your plans. Do not start working yet, and don’t even think about skiing until at least February.”

Pretty much the same advice I received from the surgeon a few weeks earlier. So it was quite a difficult decision when I committed to a season in France. But the night before my intended arrival I booked a flight and headed over there. This meant spending my birthday in airports, waiting for delayed flights and having to hitch hike up the mountain to Courchevel.

 My day improved though when I was greeted by the two French receptionists and shown my accommodation. It turned out that I didn’t have a share room because my  toilet was in the bedroom. As were two beds, two sinks, a big bath, TV and two big wardrobes. The boss did apologise for the in-room toilet, but really, I couldn’t have been happier. Believe me, in terms of seasonaire accommodation, I’d hit the jackpot!

I also feel pretty lucky to say that all the staff turned out to be awesome. The decision to come in general, was one well made, as two days later and contrary to the good doctors advice I was flying down the mountain on my board. The cast was a bit of a hinderance, but it felt good!