This morning was like the English coast in April, with a chilly, blustery north wind and a hint of rain early on. The sky too was straight from the North Sea.
Things here are nothing if not unpredictable though and by mid-morning, the whole place resembled a ski resort in February. I suppose that should not be too much of a surprise.
Whilst it seemed to be a ski resort, it didn’t seem like Wengen on a Saturday. Yet again, the ski clubs were missing and the queues were pretty much non-existent.
The snow held up well through today’s assorted seasons. For once, it was busier in the afternoon than the morning. On the first circuit around the hill, it was straight onto the cable car. Second time around, I did have to wait a couple of minutes.
For this trip, my days here are numbered. London calls and I must answer. So an early night I think, before a short ski and a long journey.
A day of mix and match seasons brought 10,511 vertical metres in 24 lift rides and 59 kilometres travelled.
Idle thoughts from a mountain 