I picked up my sister who was finishing school at 11.30 and 20 minutes later we had our skis put on our feet and the sky was wonderfully blue. Now, nothing could have stopped us (as long as we stayed on the pistes, the avalanche risk being at its maximum, off-pistes). What followed was just what I intend to find in paradise: powder everywhere, scenery of my dreams and slopes covered by a virgin snow, why go off-pistes, we had everything on the pistes?!

The four days following this Thursday were comparable, with the Mont-Blanc group in background having its usual beauty. I maybe appreciated it a bit more, being far from it this year, as a friend you meet after a long absence.

The last day of skiing was cloudier and, at the end of the afternoon, a sort of drizzle was falling from the sky. I set forth on my last descent and very quickly couldn't see anything, making me unable to anticipate the bumps. At this stage, I was admiring some guys I could see skiing very well despite the poor visibility. "How can they do that with such a mist?!" I then took off my mask and realised there was one millimetre of frost on it, making me the only one that couldn't see anything! "Bravo, Audrey!"

I came back to England the day before our weekend in Snowdonia. I would say that it was a good transition between a week in the Alps and the flat area of Hitchin…

We had, of course, a late night of drinking, chatting and singing on Friday evening, going to bed early on Saturday morning. After a few hours of sleep (3or4), Phil, Pascal and I set forth to Ordinary route on Idwal Slabs, in order to ascend my second ever route (the first having been a "1b" in Kent two weeks before!) As you can tell, Alpine girls are not necessarily rock-climbers!

Home: this place I haven't seen for more than four months. I couldn't resist the temptation of going home for a week.

Home: This place where people live with mountains, for mountains, and often from mountains. Why? Because they simply love them. I think the word "love" is not too strong: which word is better to describe your feelings when you just need to see the mountains, when you like being with them, trying to conquer them even if they will never belong to you, when you respect them and can't help admiring them, being impressed by their beauty even after many years of common life?

For I am one of these people, I needed to go back home to see these mountains. Where's my home ? In an area you might have heard about in your climbing career, the French Alps, near Chamonix. I started my French trip by driving home from Geneva airport that took me the double of the normal time, the snow being everywhere including the roads.