Running to Mont Blanc
Monday, March 06, 2006
I timed my run this morning just right: I left the house in the dark and arrived with the remaining street lights useless against a blue sky. This change happened in the space of thirty minutes and meant that I ran to a backdrop of birds greeting the rising sun. It sounded like the jeering of a hostile crowd all the way round.
In the ten years since we returned from Singapore I can't remember such a long unbroken sequence of such cold days. Just as gas prices have taken a big hike our central heating is on for at least twice as long each day. It must be really hitting pensioners hard. It does make for beautiful days, though, and is good preparation for our skiing trip in a few weeks. One of the great pleasures of Megeve is sitting on the terrace of the Igloo restaurant, beer in hand and sun on face, looking across at Mont Blanc. Our small conservatory at the back of the house serves as the sun trap but there's no view of the mountains from here and no beer. Only sparkling mineral water and the sight of our neigbour's knickers hanging on their washing line. You can't have everything.
In the ten years since we returned from Singapore I can't remember such a long unbroken sequence of such cold days. Just as gas prices have taken a big hike our central heating is on for at least twice as long each day. It must be really hitting pensioners hard. It does make for beautiful days, though, and is good preparation for our skiing trip in a few weeks. One of the great pleasures of Megeve is sitting on the terrace of the Igloo restaurant, beer in hand and sun on face, looking across at Mont Blanc. Our small conservatory at the back of the house serves as the sun trap but there's no view of the mountains from here and no beer. Only sparkling mineral water and the sight of our neigbour's knickers hanging on their washing line. You can't have everything.
