Over the new year, I went on a ski trip with family and friends to Morzine, in the Alps of France. We arrived the day after Boxing Day, and we were there for a week. Up until the eve of our arrival there had been virtually no snow, with the majority of the local slopes closed, except those with snow cannons. Luckily as soon as we arrived it started to snow and there was a fresh flurry every day or so; we were really lucky as when we were leaving it began raining. It was the first time I had stayed in a challette, which did take some getting used to; having people cook you breakfast and dinner every day did feel slightly odd. But I wasn’t complaining when I returned from the slopes to a cup of tea and a freshly baked cake every day. I hadn’t been skiing for a fair few years, but Morzine as a resort was great with some really nice slopes; we even managed to ski over the boarder into Switzerland one day. I snow-boarded half the week and then hopped over to skis for the remainder. New Years Eve itself was slightly bizarre, we almost missed the count down as the staff of the ski-lodge-cum-bar we found ourselves in were more concerned with drinks than actually marking the new year and when we started singing Auld Lang Syne the DJ turned the music up to drown us out! That being said I’d definitely ski there again.