In a moment of misplaced optimism, last night, as my head hit the pillow, I thought that it might not be that busy on the hill today. It would be Saturday and lots of people would be leaving.
How foolish a thought though. It is a weekend between Christmas and new year, there is cloud in the valley and sun on the hill. The ski clubs were largely absent, but otherwise everyone between here and Berne showed up. At times, it seemed like ant trails heading down the mountain to the next chairlift. Wherever they went, they left their mark.
It looks like it might be busier tomorrow. As I mentioned the other day, there is not a room to be had in the village tonight. In fact, people are sleeping on a shift basis.
It’s ironic. You spend ages hoping for some good weather and when it turns up, you end up hoping for a bad day to quieten things down. Such is the human mind; unlike ants.
A steady procession around the mountain brought 9,354 vertical metres in 20 lift rides and 49 kilometres travelled.
Idle thoughts from a mountain 