Alta

Tuesday 25th February - Thursday 27th

Well, I seem to have caught up again, but only by dint of spending most of a day sorting out my photographs, getting them off the iPhone and the camera and onto the iPad, and typing like a mad thing. The problem is, as I may have indicated in my last post, that we are too tired to do anything else if we go skiing. There is no time to write anything before our evening meal, and after our evening meal, we just fall asleep!

On my first day skiing, we caught the bus up to Alta, where there is a good selection of easy runs. This is where I stood immediately I got off the lift.



You can see how much snow there is.

This is the view of one of the easy trails just after you get off the lift.


Those are my ski sticks which I have parked in the snow so I have my hands free to take a photograph. Although I am standing on a fairly flat area, the slope is a bit steeper on the left of the photo; this is what it looks like as you start to ski down.




You can see the trail carrying on down in the distance.

The next photo is taken a bit further down the slope.



It isn't fantastically steep, so I didn't find most of it too worrying, although there was hardly anywhere to practise my turns, and I spent most of my time standing on my left leg because the trail slipped down to the left as well as down straight ahead. This led to my falling over on one occasion because I found myself skiing down to the left and falling off the trail as I tried to avoid people who were hanging about in the middle of the trail. Fortunately, I didn't hurt myself.

After 4 long runs, I decided I had had enough for the day and retired to the restaurant for a much needed rest. We parked our skis close to the stairs that went down to the restaurant, and Paul came in with me so he could leave me various things he no longer wanted to carry in his backpack. A few minutes later, he went back out again only to find his skis had disappeared, and came back into the restaurant, shouting 'my skis have been stolen'.

I went out with him, and soon saw that, right next to my skis were an unfamiliar looking pair of skis, so I judged that some idiot had taken Paul's skis by mistake. The other skis looked nothing like Paul's, but the poles were the same, and people are awfully careless, especially when not paying attention but chatting with their friends or fiddling with their phones. Paul had already called a friend to arrange meeting her so they could ski together, so I had to text her an explanation to prevent her standing about waiting for him for ages, while Paul went off to see how to report his loss.

Paul was convinced his skis had been stolen and was keen to buy another pair immediately, but I persuaded him to wait to see what happened. He went to the local ski shop to see what they had, but fortunately decided there was nothing there that interested him anyway. Otherwise, I insisted that we wait patiently to see if the idiot returned Paul's skis.

After two and a half hours, the unfamiliar skis were still next to mine, so I got Paul to write a note to the owner, asking him, if he had taken Paul's skis by mistake, to leave them at the ski school if it was still open, or to phone us if it was closed. Then we caught the 3.30 bus home.

On the way, Paul regaled the whole bus with his misfortune, and everybody was very kind and concerned. One man, who was staying in our hotel, said he would lend Paul his spare skis and sticks. He said he always brought spares because he broke things. His room was close to ours, and he duly brought us the spare skis and sticks, and by great good fortune they were the correct length and the bindings fitted Paul's boots.

Next day, we set off again for the slopes with the spare skis, arriving just before 10. While I went to buy my lift ticket, Paul went off to examine all the ski racks, and, lo and behold, there were his skis, in the racks outside the ticket office and ski school! Paul was delighted to see them, and we used his lock to chain up the kind man's skis so no other fool would take them away in error. Then we went off to ski.

We tried a different trail this time, one which was slightly steeper so I could have the opportunity to practise my turns. This is the view part of the way down. As you can see, the snow is deep and wonderful, and the scenery is quite breathtaking.



Later on down the slope, I took the opportunity of standing on a flat area to photograph the surrounding mountains.



That's Paul you might just be able to see in the red jacket standing at the top of the next steep bit waiting for me to catch up.

The photo below shows the final stretch down to the lift.



You can probably see that I am standing on the balcony of the restaurant, looking down on the skiers. As it is a sunny day, quite a few people are sitting out in the sun on the left, just out of my photo. They have stacked their skis in the snow close to them - probably to ensure somebody doesn't take them by mistake!

After another 4 long runs, my legs were aching again and I felt I had had enough, so Paul had some lunch and then spent the last hour and a half skiing the more difficult runs with friends. While we were sitting in the restaurant, Paul left his skis where he could see them so that they didn't disappear again. After this, he says he will chain them every time he leaves them in a rack, but he couldn't do it immediately as his chain was already in use on the spare skis.

While Paul was away skiing, I sat quietly in the restaurant and read my book, and took the opportunity of some further photos. This is the view from the restaurant balcony looking down the valley - I had previously been skiing higher up the valley.



You can see the rather spectacular cloud formations which indicate that there will be storms the next day - that was when I decided that, if it was going to snow, I would have a day of rest.

We caught the 3.35 bus again, struggling a bit with three pairs of skis and three pairs of sticks, as we had to bring back the spare skis and sticks which our nice neighbour had lent Paul, and which he turned out not to need.

When we woke on Thursday, we could see there would be a storm, so I sent Paul off on his own, saying I would have a day of rest. My legs were aching so much anyway I was finding it hard to walk, so I welcomed the opportunity to rest them. I had thought I'd take a nice walk to the supermarket, but as soon as I left the hotel, the heavens opened and rain fell out of the sky like stair-rods so I hurried back inside. I could only hope that it was falling as snow higher up the mountain, and apparently it was, but the snow was very wet. Paul arrived home soaking wet and very late; apparently, the wet slidy snow caused the traffic all down the valley to be very slow, and the bus was very late. I am glad I stayed indoors and didn't even try to ski.

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To Salt Lake City

Sunday February 23rd - Monday 24th

I left my Denver hotel around midday to set off for the airport and to meet Paul who was travelling down from Breckenridge after breakfast. I was there long before he was, so sat quietly and waited for him.

Our plane was unfortunately delayed by almost an hour, so we sat at the gate and read until eventually we were able to board. The flight was only 65 minutes, though they were extremely bumpy minutes, so I was glad to arrive. Fortunately, it being an internal flight, we were in the arrivals hall very quickly, though it was quite a long wait for our luggage. When it had arrived, Paul phoned for the hotel courtesy bus, but it wasn't available so we had to take a taxi - which the hotel paid! Transport to and from the airport is included in our room price.

The hotel is to the south of Salt Lake City, in a suburb called Murray. We can see the mountains from our bedroom window.



You can see that we are quite a long way from the mountains - about an hour's drive - but this hotel is specially set up for skiers - and it's full of them.

This is how the hotel works.There is a very hearty skiers' breakfast in the morning, between 6 and 10 am and the early ski bus to the slopes (8 o'clock) can be boarded nearby. Other later buses are further away, and not within walking distance - especially with ski boots on! So I have chosen to go a bit later (8.40) when the hotel shuttle will take you to the further away bus stop. The ski bus then takes you up to the resort area, taking about an hour.

So far we have returned on the 3.35 bus, arriving at the stop near the hotel around 4.35, at which point you have to call the hotel to ask them to collect you in their shuttle. This means you arrive back at the hotel at close to 5 pm, and the evening meal is between 5 and 7. So it's the hurried shower and re-dressing before going to eat.

It isn't a restaurant, there's no choice, but there's always a huge salad and some sort of main dish with rice or potatoes or pasta or similar. There's no dessert, but there's a supermarket not too far away, so you can buy yoghurt or fruit, and the hotel sells ice creams and various chocolate biscuits. If you can't bear the meal of the day, the hotel also sells microwave meals - there's a microwave in every room. You could also walk to the supermarket for a better meal selection, and there are various restaurants nearby. So far, we have just eaten in the hotel, as the food has been quite acceptable - and nothing vegetarian to put Paul off.

After the meal, we are so exhausted we just seem to fall asleep - some nights I haven't made it past 8 o'clock; and the alarm goes at 7 am so we can start all over again!

I should perhaps explain that on the first day, Monday 24th, I didn't go out skiing, I left Paul to look round the resort at the possibilities of really easy slopes for me. I only skied about 3 or 4 days in France and about the same in Breckenridge so I'm still trying to re-learn any sort of technique. So on the first day here I had a relaxing day in the hotel - especially since I am still finding the altitude a trial, though it isn't very high here; the city is only about 4300 feet, so I ought to find it easier than Denver, and certainly easier than Breckenridge.

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Denver Art Gallery

Saturday February 22nd

As this was my last day in Denver, it had to be the day for the Art Gallery. I set off for the somewhat laborious trip into the city - made even more laborious because the free shuttle to the airport was nearly 15 minutes late and I missed the bus into the city - I watched it leaving as the shuttle pulled up nearby. So I had a whole hour to wait for the next one.

I got out at Market Street Station again, but this time I took the free bus down to the end of the 16th Street Mall so that I wouldn't be totally exhausted by the time I reached the Art Gallery.

You can see the distinctive Art Gallery building from some distance away,




so you are not in any doubt as to whether you are in the right place.

It was extremely hot inside and I was much too warmly dressed, but fortunately there are lockers so I was able to leave my heavy ski anorak and everything else I didn't need to carry. A very helpful volunteer suggested a route round the gallery, so I started at the top floor, with Western American art. There were some wonderful sculptures, akin to those on the way to the area which I posted in the previous blog.



This one shows a pioneer family, and is difficult to photograph adequately because it is so different from every side.

I enjoyed the western paintings, many of which were landscapes, and others of which attempted to capture images of the 'old west' through wonderfully evocative portraits or through scenes, real or imagined, like the one below.



This one, called 'The Stagecoach', is by Norman Rockwell. It was an illustration for the 'Saturday Evening Post', advertising the remake of the classic western film 'Stagecoach'.

The next floor down was European painting, starting from the Renaissance. Actually, I would have called several of them pre-Renaissance, being dated from 1360. There were none of my favourite artists though.

Somewhat later, I noticed this not very well known portrait of Henry Vlll, painted in the year of his coronation,1509.



Although I have seen illustrations of this portrait before, it seems not to be very well known in England. We are more familiar with portraits of a much older Henry, grossly fat and bearded and very unattractive. I suppose this is because we are more familiar with the portraits of him we have in England - particularly the Holbein one.

There were a few old masters - a lovely Renoir, an exquisite Sisley, and this beautiful Chagall.



There were plenty of examples from other well-known artists too - I failed to photograph a Picasso collage, but you can't photograph everything.

On the same floor there were some wonderful examples of textiles, which I photographed avidly, and which all turned out to be out of focus! I was using the camera phone, having left my camera in my anorak pocket in the locker, and I imagine it couldn't cope with the light levels in the textiles room.

The next floor was Asian art, with some examples from all over Asia. There was some particularly beautiful Japanese lacquer, but it didn't photograph well, being behind glass.

Other items were more successful.



I particularly enjoyed this Thai lion from the Ayutthaya period, some time between around 1350 to around 1760. There was no indication of a more exact date.

Some of the pieces were very large indeed.


This is a section of a palace facade, from the Swat Valley in Pakistan, dating from 1836. Sadly, we often associate the Swat valley today only with the Taliban, but it has thousands of years of history; it was already inhabited with well-planned towns which were stormed by Alexander the Great in 327BC. It would be interesting to see more art from this ancient area.

The next floor down was pre-Columbian art, and I was interested to compare this with the recent exhibition I saw in the British Museum.


There were many pieces similar to those in the exhibition, though these came from all over South America, not just ancient Colombia, like the ones in the British Museum exhibition.

The same floor also had Spanish Colonial Art, but I only walked through that very quickly, as my back was starting to hurt.

The final floor I tackled was American Indian art, and I was sorry not to have more time to spend on it. I failed to photograph the wonderful bead work, and my photographs of the pottery, rivalling Ancient Greek pottery, are out of focus. I did manage some of the textiles though.



These are all relatively modern.

There was plenty more to see, but my energy had run out, and I took myself back to Barnes and Noble for a reviving coffee before catching the bus back up to Market Street Station for the bus back to the airport. I was very fortunate in that the bus arrived at the airport at the same time as the shuttle to the hotel, so there was no waiting around. I was glad not to arrive back too exhausted, as I had to pack for my departure to Salt Lake City the following day.

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In Denver

February 20th and 21st

I was quite determined not to spend my days in Denver languishing in the hotel, so I caught the hotel shuttle to the airport and then a bus from the airport to downtown Denver. Unfortunately, there is only one bus an hour between Denver Airport and downtown Denver, so this is necessarily a long process. However, it is ten times cheaper than any other possible way - this is no exaggeration. A taxi from my hotel into the city would probably have cost more than $50. The hotel shuttle to the airport was free, and the Senior Citizen fare on the bus into the city is $5.50.

The journey into the city normally takes 50 minutes or so, but the first time I did it there had been an accident and a huge truck was lying upside down with its wheels in the air on one of the many intersecting roads. There were police cars everywhere, roads closed off and stationary traffic. So my first trip in to the city took a long time.

I had only been able to glean rather rudimentary information from the Internet about the city of Denver, as most places assume you will be driving there rather than walking, but as far as I could see, from bus and city maps, my bus stopped at a place called Market Street Station, and this seemed to be adjacent to what looked like an interesting pedestrianised street referred to as 16th Street Mall. There was a tourist information office on this street, as well as a free bus service up and down it, and the Denver Art Gallery seemed to be not far from one end of it, so I thought I might start there.

Market Street Station is at the top end of the 16th Street Mall. I started walking down the Mall, rather than catching the bus, as I wanted to look in any shops and I wasn't sure exactly where the tourist office was. Actually, the street seemed to have relatively few shops, but an awful lot of cafés and restaurants, and was extremely long - more than a mile I think. Eventually I found the tourist office and was able to get a map of the city and directions to the Art Gallery, which was still quite a walk away.

A little past the end of the street, I found the state Capitol building.



The museum district is adjacent to this civic area, but, once I had oriented myself correctly, I found I had to walk back some distance.

The entrance to the museum district is quite imposing.



This is taken from part of the way into the museum district, looking back towards the buildings of downtown Denver.

The walkway is lined with statues



This one is called 'on the War Trail', and opposite it is 'Bronco Buster'.



This latter one was hard to photograph, because there was a family of three boys having their photos taken in front of it, and they told me that the model had been their great grandfather!

By this time it was quite late in the day, I had already walked a considerable distance, and I didn't think I could manage an Art Gallery visit as well. So I adjourned to a nearby Barnes and Nobel, who have a nice coffee shop, and then caught the free bus back up the street to pick up the airport bus at 4.30.

I bought my supper at the airport - there is an excellent Chinese style restaurant called Panda Express - but then I nearly froze to death waiting for the courtesy bus back to the hotel. It had suddenly turned into an unpleasantly cold evening, with a cutting wind.

The following day was even more unpleasantly cold, and the wind was so fierce that no planes were able to land at Denver Airport, so I thought it best to stay inside and keep warm. The Ary Gallery visit would just have to wait - and that would probably mean there would be no time for other museums, of which there are quite a few in Denver.

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Back to Denver!

February 19th

After my short walk the previous day, I felt quite exhausted and decided to have a day of rest. Paul seemed to be quite recovered, and went off to ski at Copper Mountain, which meant no breakfast and being at the bus station by 7.15. I certainly didn't feel up to that!

During the course of the morning I began to feel worse and worse, and also very sleepy, so I retired to bed. After what would have been lunch time, I noticed that I was panting all the time, even when lying down resting, and I knew this was one of the symptoms of pulmonary oedema, which is a life-threatening condition. I found my oximeter and discovered that my blood oxygen level was 81%. The doctor had been concerned when I had bronchitis and it was 91%, so this was clearly quite serious. I didn't feel well enough to get up and do anything about it at the time - just breathing was enough to occupy my mind - but it was pretty clear to me I couldn't stay in Breckenridge.

When Paul arrived back from Copper Mountain about 4.30, he conferred with me and with our friends who run the Inn, and I felt I should leave as soon as possible, while I could still breathe! So Paul rang CME, the company who usually transport us up and down the mountain, and they said they had a spare place on the 5.45 bus down to Denver. Paul was able to book me a room in the hotel near the airport where we had stayed before, so it only remained for me to pack my case and go downstairs to wait for the minibus to pick me up. Fortunately, packing took almost no time at all; we had only moved room two days previously, and I had only unpacked things like toiletries, most things were still packed anyway.

The journey down was really quite scary. A storm had been on the way all day - which could have lowered the air pressure and helped to give me such breathing problems - and it broke while I was awaiting the transport. By the time the CME minibus arrived, the snow was falling heavily and visibility was down to about 50 feet; I was extremely glad I didn't have to drive in those conditions. It was rather like having to drive down a long dark tunnel, with everybody travelling at about 10 or 15 miles an hour and just following the lights in front. As well as falling snow, we had to contend with high winds and blowing snow, and the driver had to stop to clear the buildup of ice on the windscreen. Fortunately, the roads are planned with such weather in mind, and there are safe places to pull off - though they are for vehicles to put on their chains, rather than for de-icing the windscreen. Most people seemed to drive suitably for the conditions, and for most of the way our speed didn't exceed 20 miles and hour, so it didn't feel unduly dangerous.

As we neared Denver, we ran out of the storm, and then we were able to drive faster. The driver had been very sympathetic to my plight, and when he realised he would be able to see my hotel from the road to the airport, he very kindly make a detour of a few minutes to drop me there. This saved me travelling another 7 miles to the airport, waiting for up to 30 minutes for the hotel shuttle, and travelling another 7 miles back to the hotel, so I was extremely grateful. Although I was still out of breath, my blood oxygen levels began to improve slightly later that night, so leaving Breckenridge was obviously the right thing to do.


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Colorado 4

February 15th - 18th

I'm extremely behind now with everything, but this is mostly because I have continued unwell. I had thought that, after the doctor's visit and the antibiotics, I would get better and could start skiing again, but this has not been the case at all.

Neither of us was very well for some days, with 'flu-like symptoms and lots of coughing, especially at night, which made sleeping difficult. We weren't able to ski at Breckenridge over the public holiday weekend anyway, and Paul didn't feel well enough to travel further afield to places where we could ski. We caught a bus to the supermarket for some essential shopping on Saturday 15th and the bus driver told us that 20,000 extra people had arrived in the resort for the holiday weekend, so I imagine the Breckenridge slopes would have been unpleasantly crowded anyway. The traffic was certainly terrible, especially in Main Street, which meant none of the buses ran to time.


This was a fairly typical scene out of the bus!

The snow had continued to fall during the time I was ill, and in places it had collected up to 10 or more feet high.



This is another photo from the bus window, so not a very good one, but you can see how the snow has piled up.

The surface of the main roads could be kept quite clear of snow, as the traffic was so heavy, and the local authority kept it ploughed and cleared it away. Less busy roads were deep in snow.



This is a view of the lower end of town, close to the supermarket.

By Tuesday 18th, Paul decided he was getting better and was well enough to start skiing again. I felt a little better, though not well enough to ski. However, I decided, as it was a pleasant day, to go and have a look at the ice castle, which was apparently beautiful. We had arrived too late this year to see the snow sculptures which I have enjoyed in previous years, which was a shame, but I thought a walk in the sunshine might be pleasant.

The ice castle was rather hard to find, but I was able to appreciate some of the lovely snowy views.




This is the Blue River! It is actually still running under its coat of ice and snow, I could see and hear the running water under the two gaps you can see in the snow in the photograph above.

I was walking in a residential area just a few yards to the west of Main Street, and you can see from the photo below that snow ploughs have not been active here either.



Most people have four wheel drive vehicles and I imagine they must use studded tyres as well - I don't see any vehicles with snow chains.

I'm not sure what this decorative statue signified, any plaque with an explanation being buried in the deep snow.


It is just beside the Riverside Walk, and there were some quite smart buildings, so perhaps there is a School of Music or a Concert Hall. It is hard to know what you are looking at when the snow is so deep.

Eventually, I found the Ice Castle, and was able to walk all round it.



In fact, walking round it was all I was able to do, as it was closed. I imagine that slightly warmer weather had made it unsafe, the temperature having been slightly above freezing for a few days. I obviously ought to have visited it when it was -17C!


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Colorado 3

February 11th - 14th

I haven't written anything for several days because I haven't been at all well. A number of other people staying at the Inn have been passing an infection around, and one of them kindly passed it to me. I felt worse and worse, and on the one really beautiful sunny day since we got here, Tuesday 11th, was obliged to stay in bed. Paul went out to enjoy the snow and skied all day with some 20 year old, so he got back completely wrecked again, and had to go straight to bed. The following day, I felt even worse, and Paul was also starting to feel unwell, since I had passed the infection on to him, so I did not stir from indoors, and Paul only went out for a short time.

As I continued to feel worse and worse, the doctor came to call, and diagnosed acute bronchitis, which had brought on acute mountain sickness. So I got a steroid injection, an antibiotic prescription, and 48 hours on the oxygen concentrator machine. It is quite a large machine, which sucks in air and concentrates the oxygen so I get more oxygen than I would by just breathing normally.



This is the machine, slightly taller than knee high, but it seems to be most efficient.

Paul refused to see the doctor himself, though he seemed even more ill than me and with such a sore throat he was quite unable to speak. But he says he has no difficulty in breathing. Anyway, we were both feeling too ill to worry about Valentine's Day, and Paul was resorting to hand signals in an effort not to have to use his throat at all.

Our local ski passes have been revoked for two days at Breckenridge, because Saturday 15th and Sunday 16th are the weekend holiday associated with Presidents' Day on Monday 17th. Americans have so little holiday time that they make the most of any public holidays, so Breckenridge will be full to bursting and the slopes very crowded with punters paying almost $100 a day for their ski pass, so the town is anxious to keep cheap elderly season ski pass holders such as ourselves off the slopes to make room for those paying the excessively high prices. We are encouraged to ski at other less desirable places where our passes will still be valid for the two days, but we are neither of us feeling sufficiently well to make long expeditions on the bus!

At least I hope to be well enough to go out for a walk if nothing else over the weekend, so there may be some more photos.

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Colorado 2

Feb 7th - 10th

I haven't posted anything for a couple days, because it had been snowing pretty constantly and I didn't much want to go out and get cold. Paul took the opportunity of going out to enjoy himself in the blizzard, and on Saturday 8th skied very hard with old acquaintances at Copper Mountain. He was in a small fast group, and came home so exhausted about 6.30 he had to go straight to bed! In order to visit Copper without a car, you need to catch a bus down to Breckenridge station, another from there to Frisco, and a third to Copper Mountain. And of course, it's the same in the reverse direction. The journey took him about 2 hours each way, so no wonder he was tired! However, I persuaded him against renting a car, as I thought the driving on these difficult and snowy roads, through blizzards, might just be a bit too demanding, especially after a hard day's skiing!

It was still snowing on Sunday, but I decided to go out anyway, as the snow was absolutely beautiful, deep and powdery. Being Sunday, it was of course very crowded, which makes things more difficult. It's amazing the number of people who elect to fall over just in front of you, necessitating very swift evasive action.

The visibility wasn't very good, as you can see



This was taken about lunch time, through the driving snow. I have just stopped on a fairly flat area to get my breath, before heading over to the left on a trail through the trees to get down to the foot of the slope, in the valley which you may just be able to see in the centre of the photo. Also on the left are the pylons of the chair lift; any chair lift is a bleak cold experience in the wind and snow. Paul wears a balaclava and face mask; I can't contemplate a face mask, I already find breathing at this altitude quite difficult, so I just have to hold my gloved hand over my mouth and lower face on the way up in the lift. This isn't nearly as efficient as a face mask, but at least I can breathe!

After about 7 long runs, my legs had turned to jelly and we skied down and caught the bus back. Paul then went back out for some more demanding skiing on his own.

The snow continued to fall;



this is the view from one of our bedroom windows, showing the thick snow on the roof and looking across to the parking lot of the Father Dyer church - you can see the huge heap of snow behind the car.

In the afternoon, there were very loud rumblings as huge amounts of snow and enormous pieces of ice slid off the roof of the Inn. One big heap fell heavily onto the smokers area, but fortunately there were no smokers standing there.


The heap has completely buried the ashtray. The ski propped up in the snow heap has a notice on it warning there is a risk of falling snow from the roof.

There was heavy snow overnight on the 9th, and by next morning, the heaps of snow were even higher. This is the latest view of the church parking lot, taken through the blizzard and hence rather dark.



There are cars buried under some of those heaps of snow!

This is the view directly across the road from the Inn.



The trucks that take the snow away aren't keeping up with the volume of snow, and walking has become quite difficult at times. The snow can be thigh deep, so it can easily get down inside your ski boots. The trucks keep rumbling past, one every few minutes.



But the snow is falling really heavily at present, with 5 inches predicted for the day, so I think it's a losing battle. Apparently, Tuesday is forecast to be clear and sunny with no snow for a change, though the snow will be back later in the week.

I know I posted a photo recently of the outside of the back of Inn showing some really long icicles. Here's the most recent one, taken when it wasn't snowing at breakfast time, showing how much deeper the snow is getting.


The stairs at the right, the one the fox usually uses to reach the roof, are actually the fire escape! Nobody has seen the fox recently, though he was seen the day before we arrived. Perhaps he, like me, prefers to stay inside in this weather!

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Colorado - First few days

February 3rd - 6th

On February 3rd I set off for Colorado on my own, Paul having departed 10 or 11 days earlier. Once I had worked out the high cost of taxi to the station, peak time train fare to London and tube to Heathrow, I paid a bit extra and had the incredible luxury of a taxi all the way to Heathrow! We'll probably get one back as well, as with two of us travelling, it will probably cost the same as public transport but save us humping heavy baggage and skis up and down stairs, not to mention taking about a third of the time!

My journey to Denver was surprisingly comfortable, as the plane wasn't completely full and I was able to have a two hour nap, the food was acceptable and there was a huge choice of entertainment, so I didn't have to rely completely on my Kindle.

I had a two hour wait in Denver before Paul flew in and we caught the courtesy bus to our overnight hotel. Paul had decided that I might adjust better to the altitude if we didn't rush up to Breckenridge but stayed a night in Denver, which, at a mile high (1600 metres), might give some people problems anyway. Breckenridge is higher, 2900 metres or 9600 feet, and it does seem to give me problems breathing. Even with one night in Denver, I am still gasping for breath after the slightest exertion - like walking across the room!

Next morning we caught the courtesy bus back to the airport and the very wonderful Colorado Mountain Express took us up to Breckenridge in a mini-bus. It was obvious there had been lots of snow, and when we finally reached Breckenridge, there was more snow than we had seen before. This is the Inn where we always stay.



You can see that the fence is completely covered in snow, so it's at least three feet deep. You may notice the upstairs balcony in the building at the back of the photo. That's the second entrance to our current room, which is the biggest one at the Inn. We only have it until February 13th though, then we move to a slightly smaller one. Paul booked too late for us to have the same room for our entire stay - the Inn is very popular, many people booking for their next year's stay at the end of their current one.

We arrived at lunch time, and Paul immediately used one of the downstairs cloakrooms to change into ski gear so he could hit the slopes. We weren't able to get into our room until 4, Paul having omitted to warn our friends of what time we might arrive. I had no ambition to root about in my suitcase for my ski clothes, I prefer to unpack properly first, so I stayed chatting comfortably in the lounge in front of the fire.

Our first full day was cold but clear, and I was able to ski more successfully than I had in France, as the snow was so much better. I didn't take any photographs on the slopes, as I filled this blog two years ago with lots of photos of the Breckenridge slopes, but there were beautiful views and the slopes were wonderfully empty. On several of the runs, we were the only people, though we could see other people on different runs nearby through the trees. The snow was soft and squeaky under the skis because it was so cold, and I felt more confident than I had in France; I haven't been on good snow for two years though - Paul is convinced the altitude will give me a heart attack so I didn't come last year. I will have to start re-learning to ski parallel, I'm skidding all my turns again and my balance is poor because of the head cold.

By the time I came back to the Inn in the afternoon, the sun had gone in, but I did take some photographs of the snow. This is the bus stop where we catch the bus to the slopes.



You can hardly see the bus stop, it's the sign saying 'free ride', to the right of the 'Stop' sign. The sign giving the bus times is completely buried in the snow, which led to our missing the bus on the second day, as Paul had mis-remembered the times.

Although the pavements (sidewalks) are kept reasonably clear, there are heaps of snow all round the town, as well as some quite spectacular icicles, like these ones on a nearby building.




After I had taken this, I noticed some even more spectacular icicles on the workshop at the back of the Inn.



They won't get any longer at present, as it's still below freezing all the time. The stairs, the rail of which you can see on the right of the photo, are the ones the fox usually climbs to reach the roof and get a view of his surroundings; I published a photo of him in this blog two years ago. He doesn't seem to be using the stairs at present though, they"re completely covered in snow - or perhaps he hasn't survived the heavy snowfall.

Some of the snow has been removed - there's a wonderful machine which sucks it up and blows it into a huge truck to cart it away; unfortunately, it took me too long to undo the zip on my pocket to get my camera out to take a photograph so I missed it. No doubt I'll have another opportunity, there are plenty of heaps of snow still around, like the one above at our bus stop, or this one nearby.


This is one of the bigger ones near the Inn. Just opposite it, you can see the state of the normal suburban road here.



Most people drive very slowly indeed, and the majority of vehicles are four wheel drive ones, as the roads are very slippery. I walk quite carefully. The sidewalks are kept reasonably clear for pedestrians.




This is a view looking down the hill towards Main Street. You can see some of the ski runs on the mountain in the background. You can also see the heavy clouds above, bringing snow for my second day.

If the sidewalks weren't cleared, they would be deep in snow, as you can see from the front gardens.


Most people have dug paths to their front doors through the thigh deep snow. As it's still snowing, it's a never-ending task.

On my second day, it was a good deal colder - 1F in the early morning, which is -17C - and it was snowing as well. I went out to ski, but didn't last past lunch time. My face got very cold on the chair lift, and my thigh muscles weren't strong enough to keep going for long. The snow was superb though, with powder even on the lower slopes, courtesy of the snow which continued to fall. Paul found his hands were freezing and we had to stop at one point and go into a restaurant so that he could warm them up.

Paul continued to ski after I had returned, but I stayed in the warm to nurse my aching legs and looked out through the falling snow.

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Between France and Colorado

January 23rd - February 2nd

Paul had just one day at home, then he was off again to Wyoming. I had 10 or 11 days at home on my own, most of which I spent in bed with the cold and a nasty cough. There was nothing much to get up for anyway, I felt terrible and the monotonous rain fell heavily for most of the time. I wonder if it's time to go somewhere warm in winter?

As I was a bit better by the end of January, and I had a meeting to attend, I got out of bed and went up to London. Before my meeting, I went to see an exhibition at the British Museum, called 'Beyond Eldorado: power and gold in ancient Colombia', which I found very interesting. There were some stunning pieces of gold - this is from the exhibition poster






Much of the art work was quite spectacular, and a surprising amount of it was well over 2000 years old. Gold was only prized because it was the colour of the sun (which was worshipped as a god) and expressed the power of the possessor.

The were other items, such as ceramics, which were even older, dating back as far as 1600 BC. Photography was not allowed, but I did manage to sneak one photo of a ceramic container.





I was only able to spend about an hour there before my back gave out, though the exhibition certainly merited more time. But I've discovered it's much easier to go round exhibitions if you can get hold of the book that contains all the labels in large print. That saves all of the awkward bending down to read the labels and means I don't have to wait until I can actually get near the label, as most exhibitions are very crowded. I certainly enjoyed the exhibition a lot more than I did the meeting which followed, which was really quite difficult and even unpleasant at times.

Sunday Feb 2nd being the day that London was celebrating Chinese New Year, I was quite anxious to go up again to see the parade. I was able to go up on the Saturday evening to stay with my sister and go out with her to the cinema. We were very fortunate that the Sunday was dry and sunny (for a change) and we were up just in time to see the parade. As you might expect, it was led by a dragon.





There were also lions, of course.





These were both much as expected. I didn't expect the horses though.





Of course, it is the year of the horse. I bought a little jade horse which is hanging from my handbag.

There were plenty of other costumes on display - mandarins, or children dressed as monkeys or characters out of Chinese Opera. The crowds were so dense that the parade was hard to photograph though. My sister and I were surprised to see the large numbers of Chinese language schools represented, marching with high numbers of non-Chinese pupils. we thought perhaps the non-Chinese children attending the schools might be from mixed marriages where the parents are anxious that the children do not lose contact with the Chinese language or culture. Or perhaps people just believe Mandarin will be of more use in the future than many languages currently taught in schools.

After the parade, we followed the crowds into Gerrard Street. All of Chinatown had been decorated with lanterns, and there was the constant crackling of small firecrackers. There were none of the long strings of fat red firecrackers we used to see in Hong Kong - they were quite dangerous, so no doubt they aren't allowed here.





The crowds were very thick though, and it was very difficult to walk anywhere, so we made our way to the National Gallery, where we hoped to see the special exhibition of Van Gogh's Sunflowers. We were told the waiting time was over an hour though, so we opted for lunch instead.

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