Luxor, Aswan and Cairo, Egypt March 28th -April 5th, 2010

Africrew’s annual spring getaway continued in 2010; this year to Egypt. Theresa, Vic, Maria, Jeff, Erin and I spent a few days cruising south along the Nile from Luxor to Aswan, followed by a weekend in Cairo.

Pictures: http://www.kodakgallery.com/gallery/sharing/shareRedirectSwitchBoard.jsp?token=983291476803%3A1618578537&sourceId=533754321803&cm_mmc=eMail-_-Share-_-Photos-_-Sharee

Our room aboard A&K's Sunboat IV

We departed London late on a Thursday night, thankful that the BA cabin crew strike didn’t disrupt our departure. We arrived in Cairo just after midnight, leaving us about three hours to sleep at the Fairmont Towers before going back to the airport to fly on to Luxor. We flew on a very old, “Petroleum Air Services” plane. By 11am we were onboard Sun Boat IV, operated by Abercrombie and Kent. The boat held about 80 guests. We were then divided into groups of about 15 – we would spend the entire cruise bundled with them. The six of us were paired with a family from Louisiana: Simone and Bill (Mom and Dad), Sydney and Savanna (daughters), Simone’s mother Ms. Suzanne, and her two friends Ms. Tookie and Ms. Jeannie. More to come on them. Our Egyptologist’s name was Osama.

An older  Nile cruiser

Entrance to Karnak

The first day was the longest. We dropped our bags on the boat and got right into a huge tour bus (big enough for 60+) to start touring ruins…Erin’s favorite. Our first sight was to The Temple of Karnak. As with most of the other sights we would visit, this one was 80% covered by sand by the time it was “discovered.” I didn’t know what to expect, but the temple was in pretty good shape…and it was huge. It was a whole complex of buildings, columns, and sand started about 3,500 years ago by Ramses II in the ancient city of Thebes (as the Greeks called it). Each column and most of the walls were covered in carved hieroglyphics. It was also packed with tourists from all over the world. Osama would be disappointed in me for leaving the description at that, but for the sake of time we’ll move on.

Inside Karnak

Hathor's Temple

After Karnak we visited two huge statues on the side of a road called the Colossi of Memnon before hitting the Valley of the Queens and separately the Valley of the Kings. After a few hundred years of burying pharaohs in pyramids, someone realized that the giant structures screamed “BURIED TREASURE IN HERE” to potential robbers. So they started burying important people in random desert valleys that shoot off from the Nile. The tombs were dug deep into the mountain, the walls and ceilings were carved and painted on all surfaces, and the dead were left with treasure to take them on into the afterlife. 63 tombs have been discovered in the Valley of the Kings, 62 of which were ransacked over the centuries. Only one tomb (that has been discovered to date) had not been cleared of its treasure by the beginning of the 20^th century. That tomb belonged to King Tutankhamun (Tut.)His tomb was discovered in 1922 by a Brit named Howard Carter. When upper class Brits steal things it’s called “discovery” or “preservation” rather than robbery. We would later see all the contents of the tomb at the Egyptian Museum in Cairo…very impressive. If you were an Egyptian king, especially a dead one, you and/or your body were well looked after. Not so for the people who actually built these temples and dug these tombs - they received little in return for their efforts. There were still a few things in Tut’s tomb: a giant wooden box, one of his many sarcophagi, and the body of the man himself.

The girls in front of Hatshepsut

We ended up visiting three other temples, each of which looked pretty similar (sorry Osama!): outer wall, a big temple in the middle, and walls and ceilings covered entirely in carvings and paintings. Each was dedicated to a different God. One had the face of a cow, one a falcon, etc. One site that looked different from the rest was Al-Deir Al-Bahari Temple, also known as Hatshepsut’s Temple. Hatshepsut was the only female pharaoh and for her they built an art deco masterpiece into the side of a mountain. You’ll see the differences in the pictures right away. The next morning we went to the Temple of Hathor (a lady-god with the cow face...really just cow ears) had lunch on the boat, then finished the day at Luxor Temple. It was an incredible sight lit up at night. That night we were treated to a whirling dervish and belly-dancing show on the boat during dinner. Vic was pulled out of the audience by the belly-dancer and he gave her a run for her money (see video). The six of us stayed up late and paid for it the next morning.

The Nile from our boat

The next day we cruised south to Edfu, stopping to see the well-preserved Temple there. This one was built for Horus, the Falcon-headed god of sky, war, and protection. The cooking class on the boat that afternoon was more like a cooking demonstration. Basically, the head chef mixed a bunch of pre-prepared ingredients together to make babaganoush and two other Egyptian dishes who’s names escape me. 

Kom Ombo

That night we went to Kom Ombo, a double temple built to serve two gods. The North Temple was built for Heroeris, the falcon-headed father of the falcon-god Horus. The South Temple was for Sobek who took the form of a crocadile. In each of these temples, the priests would keep a live animal to act as an embodiment of the god. So in Kom Ombo there was a pool built to keep water for the croc that would have been wandering around the temple. There was also a huge well with a spiral staircase built down in it so the priests could measure the water level each year.High water meant a good harvest, and a good harvest meant good tax revenue for the pharaoh, and good revenue meant the pharaoh could build things for himself, like a temple with a crocodile pool. After Kom Ombo, we went for a short stroll down a shopping street in Aswan. It was full of small shops selling clothing, food, spices, leather goods, tourists tchotch, and tea. Erin decided to wear her shortest skirt of the trip that day which was a hit with the local Muslim population. Most of them wouldn’t make any comments to her, but I was known as “lucky man” during the walk. That’s the problem with being carted around in air-conditioned tour buses and riverboats. It’s easy to forget that you’re an a place with a different dress code.

The enormous temple walls are covered in hieroglyphics 

Vic preaches on Egyptian night

The quarry

On the boat that night we had Egyptian Night with all the guests dressed in local garb, galabeyas, or whatever else they had picked up from the markets. Jeff picked out a nice brown, full-length number that turned out to be meant for a woman. He wore it well though. I have forgotten to mention that at every attraction, there are a bunch of guys peddling their wares, some more aggressively than others. We all ended up looking just like you might expect...ridiculous. The food, as it had been for all our other meals, was very good. Heaping quantities of tasty middle eastern food were available at every meal. This was a cruise after all.

At Philae Temple

The last day on the boat consisted of two main stops. First, we went to a granite quarry where a giant unfinished obelisk remained sticking half-way out of the earth.  Supposedly it cracked prior to completion, rendering the giant block useless for the artists. Our second stop was in the middle of the river. The Nile has been damned a few times. The High Dam near Aswan created a lake that would have swallowed up one of the Philae Temple so they moved it to a nearby, higher island. We took a short boat ride to it. It definitely had the best setting of all. Philae is dedicated to Osiris, the god of the dead, always shown in a form fitting white robe, his arms crossed holding a crook and a flail. When painted, his skin is often green or blue signaling rebirth (counterintuitive since he’s the god of death.) For sunset on our last day we took a ride on a felucca (sail boat) on the Nile near Aswan. We left early the next morning to fly back to Cairo.

Our gang on the felucca

We arrived at the Semiramis Intercontinental at around noon. Our overly-attentive, yet incompetent travel agent Amin unnecessarily delayed our transfer yet again. We had lunch at Sabaya, the Lebanese restaurant on the second floor. It was a bit formal for the quite bit we hoped to grab, but it was very good. We were the only group in the restaurant so our waiter guided us through the menu. We went for the lamb special which was prepared unlike anything any of us had ever had or would ever order but it was outstanding.

The bazaar and square at Khan el Khalili Mosque

It took us about an hour to work out transportation to take us to the Khan el Khalili Bazaar. Driving in Cairo reminded me a little of Marrakesh, but with 15 million more people. Traffic was horrible: no lanes, no lights, no evident rules. The bazaar reminded Erin and me of the Grand Baaar in Istanbul, but it was pretty late in the day so it was relatively calm. We were spotted early on by a merchant who helped us pick our a few gifts, namely a silver cartouche for our niece Lydia. We went into a small jewelry shop and watched them make it in front of our eyes. For dinner that night we ate at a El Kababgy, a (you guessed it) kabab restaurant in the El Gezirah Hotel along the Nile. We were still full from our late lunch, but the table grills and stone-oven-baked pita were very good. We were exhausted from our early start so we wandered back to the hotel for an early night in.

Ramses II

Saturday was Pyramids day. We met our guide Salwa a little late after breakfast at the hotel. Amin was there to introduce us to her...very helpful Amin, thank you for coming. In a minibus, we drove around Cairo, starting for the Mit Rahina Museum in the ancient city of Memphis. It was more like an open garden with a few ruinous statues lying about. If we hadn’t already been to six amazing temples along the shores of the Nile we might have been impressed. Alas, the four days we had already spent in upper Egypt had turned us into ruins snobs so after a glance at the (admittedly impressive) giant supine statue of Ramses II we moved along rather quickly. As we drove on, we learned that the bazaar we visited the day before had been attacked by "terrorists" just one month earlier. They threw a bomb from one of the windows about the main square area where we had met each other to catch a taxi.

Pondering which one to buy

Next stop, rug shop…wait excuse me, rug ‘school.’ Our driver pulled us in so we could see some child labor in full effect. We watched while some kids tied silk knots until their fingers bled. Ok, that didn’t really happen, but it was weird that they were showing off the child labor. As our host explained, it does provide a good income and some vocational training so it’s not all bad. After seeing the product being made, we were served teas, coffees, and water; anything to get us to buy one of the rugs. Well whatever they put in our tea worked, because we all ended up buying something. Hopefully we love our Nubian design rug from Elsoltan School for Carpe Giza as much in 30 years as we did that day.

Don't drink from the tap

Next we drove to the step pyramid for Imhotep in Saqqara. It was the oldest of the major temples and rather than rising in a smooth line, its sides were terraced. Here we also saw the world’s first example of columns used for architectural purposes.The thought of constructing one of these monuments in the heat of the desert is not pleasant. We spent about an hour and a half wandering around with cold water bottles and we were all hot and sweaty by the time we got back into our air-conditioned minibus. Lugging granite blocks around for years on end would have been, well, less enjoyable. But again, Imhotep got his temple and therefore had a nice journey through the afterlife the at least he was happy.

Finally, that afternoon we drove to Giza across town. A newish highway shortened the trip across town. What used to take 4 hours now took 45 minutes. Along the way, the poverty of Cairo was in plane sight. Row upon row upon row of unfinished brick buildings housed millions of people in tight quarters. Buildings are only taxed when they are completed so thousands of them sit unfinished with open roofs (only the lower floors are inhabited.)

You would have to be a miserable person not to be impressed by the first sight of the pyramids of Giza. The three main pyramids rise out of the desert, looking polished if aged next to all the crumbling “modern” brick buildings in the surrounding areas.We drove up to a viewing area where Salwa over-eagerly took pictures of us pointing, posing, pretending to touch the tip of them, etc. Though it was Vic’s idea for the six of us to form a human pyramid in front of the monuments. Good one.We had a chance to walk into the main burial chamber of the “Second Pyramid,” the one with the intact limestone cap at the top. It required a 40 meter hunched walk down a steep decline, then incline, but it was worth it. Standing in the heart of a 5,000 year-old Egyptian pyramid was a memorable experience.

Next to the second pyramid is the Cheops boat museum. It’s an ugly, modern building next to one of the most famous sights in the world. It does house something impressive though. The Cheops boat was found buried in the ground near the pyramids. It was a 150 foot river boat built around 2,500 BC, only to be floated once (to make sure it would float), dismantled, and buried in pieces for King Cheops’ trip down the River Afterlife. Our last major attraction was the Sphinx.Aside from the missing nose, he/she looks pretty good. Dinner that night was at Le Pacha, a very dated floating restaurant on the Nile.

View from the hotel. The pyramids were just barely visible,
but not on the hazy day when I took this photo.

For our last day, five of us visited the Egyptian Museum. Erin stayed at the hotel to try to catch some rays, but the clouds moved in to ruin her fun. Regardless, she would have been bored after about 10 minutes in the museum. Two things were definitely worth seeing, however: the mummified remains of some of the great pharaohs (we had visited many of their temples and tombs in the days preceding) and the collection of artifacts from Tut’s tomb. It was hard to imagine how all this stuff fit into the tomb we had walked into the Valley of the Kings. It’s also hard to imagine how much stuff was stolen from the various tombs over the years. As mentioned earlier, Tut’s was the only one of 63 tombs that was never robbed, whereas all the others were empty by the time they were “discovered.” What if each of them had the same amount of artifacts (or more!) than Tut? Think about it…

Mosque of Muhammad Ali

That afternoon we collected Erin, had a terrible lunch in our hotel's lobby cafe, and visited the Citadel of Salah Al-Din atop a rise that overlooks much of Cairo. The Mosque of Muhammad Ali (insert Cassius Clay joke here) sits in the middle of ancient fortress, built to protect the Muslims from the crusading Christians in the 1,100s. The area was surprisingly quiet, but I guess people come to Egypt for pyramids, not citadels and mosques...too bad. On the way back to our hotel, Erin and stopped at Khan el Khalili once more to pick up a few more gifts. This time we got necklaces for Erin and our mothers as well as a King Tut sarcophagus toy for our nephew, Luke.

Inside Muhammad Ali

By the time we got back to the hotel, our grands plans to try out another new restaurant had been sidelined by a few bottles of wine. Jeff, Maria, Theresa, and Vic had started without us on the terrace bar overlooking the river. It was probably for the better – after a few more aperetifs and some apple shisha we ended up going back to Sabaya for an ebullient final dinner in Egypt, complete with a violent red wine spill across the table.

Would this be the last voyage for the Africrew? We certainly hope not. Many possible scenarios were discussed about the group’s future. Based on the list of potential destinations discussed, perhaps we will have to rename ourselves South Americrew at some point down the road.

Montego Bay, Jamaica March 19th - 22nd, 2010

A weekend trip to a foreign country has become the norm for us over the past two years. What isn’t normal though is flying to a Caribbean island for a long weekend to experience the spectacle that is an Indian wedding. After a long journey (with a stopover at the JFK Best Western hotel for nap) and then in Miami, we arrived in Jamaica to glorious weather and a very scheduled weekend ahead.

A friend of Eric’s from JP Morgan, who is from NY, and his bride-to-be, a London native, decided to host a destination wedding for 375 of their closest friends and family in Montego Bay. I’m not sure at what point we decided to attend, but I think we knew that by March, we’d be Vitamin D deficient and in desperate need of warmth. Throw in our first Indian wedding invite and we were on our way.

Upon arrival, we made our first faux paux. Because it had been a really long time since we had seen the bride, we had actually forgotten what she looked like! (shock, horror, I know). Upon arrival at the hotel, we noticed a petite Indian girl standing with some photographers and a videographer (who were likely there to capture the arrival of guests). I insisted to Eric that that was Harsha, but Eric wasn’t convinced so we did our best to avoid her just in case. In an effort to avoid her, we ran into a herd of Ohio State fans. I would have taken the run in with the ‘maybe bride’ any day over the OSU fans.

Many of the guests were milling about (probably because all 375 were staying at the Rose Hall Hilton Resort). Our room wasn’t ready so we spent a few hours reading by the pool and eating some pretty mediocre food. After a lazy afternoon and exploring the grounds, we got ready for the evening’s first event, a Jamaican Beach Party hosted by Bhavit’s sister and her family held at Sandal’s resort. The night was filled with a full spread of Indian canapés, free-flowing drinks, a reggae band, an enormous buffet of delicious Jamaican/Indian fusion followed by a gigantic buffet of desserts. I’m pretty sure there was some sort of edible sculpture thrown in there for good measure. Oh, did I mention that all of this took place on a private island off of the Sandal’s resort that required a 5-minute boat ride to get to? Yeah, if that was an indication of the type of weekend to follow, we were in for a treat. Because it was the first night, we didn’t want to overexert ourselves so we headed back to the buses transporting guests to the Hilton around 11. As this was our first Indian wedding experience, we wanted to make sure to attend every event.

Dolphins near the shore

The following day, we were up early, enjoying the jet lag and the buffet breakfast. Of course since it was a buffet, we figured we’d get our fill although a few hours later we sat before another enormous Indian buffet prior to the manglik prasang. This is a ceremony that sees the guests split into bride’s side and groom’s. The bride’s side has their ceremony in the morning, followed by lunch, whereas the groom’s side has lunch first followed by the ceremony. This event took place at a gorgeous resort called Half Moon Bay. It was more quaint and private than the Hilton or the Sandals resort the night before. They even had their own dolphins!
The ceremony itself lasted about 2 hours (where they fed us again in case after the buffet we actually needed more food!). Most of the ceremony took place on the floor at the front of a open-air room, with chanting and singing and a lot of talking (that we couldn’t hear). Eric and I joked that they needed one of those cooking demonstration mirrors above them so that we could see what was going on. The ceremony involved the groom, the groom’s family and extended family. They offered gifts (not sure to whom) and lit a fire. It was fascinating at first, but because we weren’t involved and couldn’t really hear, we lost interest a bit quicker than we should have. As soon as the bus arrived, we were on it and headed back to the hotel for a quick suntan, ride down the waterslide and a game of corn hole with some of the other guests.

The Friday night event called: was held at Raas Garba Each venue seemed to one-up the previous. The night began with cocktails and passed hors d’oeuvres. A rainbow of saris adorned many of the guests. The bold colors of the cloth are absolutely breathtaking. The glitz and glam of the accessories provide the perfect finishing touch to such elegant garments. The waiters soon showed us to the buffet of traditional Indian fare. Have I mentioned how much I love Indian food?! We filled up and entered the hall to await the evening’s festivities.

First up was a dance prepared for the bride and groom by the bride’s younger sister, Bhavita. No joke, that is her name (groom’s name is Bhavit). It was totally meant to be! Following Bhavita’s dance was a dance performed by Bhavit’s cousins, close friend and sister to the sounds of dj ‘Magic Mike’ who was flown in from NYC. The remainder of the night was filled with more dancing that involved the guests (circle dance with clapping and dancing with sticks). We gave it our best effort, but headed home around midnight as the party continued on.

Bhavit on his horse

Saturday’s wedding events started relatively early. After a quick stop at the gym (where we left an ipod behind, sad) and a late breakfast, we got ready and headed to the ceremony, taking place at the Ritz. Since we had already eaten and the official lunch for the guests started at 11, we figured we would get to the Ritz just in time for the ceremony to start. However, as we learned quickly during the weekend, Indian-time is about an hour after the scheduled time. We grabbed plates and tucked into yet another Indian feast. We ate quickly and headed upstairs for the procession of the groom.

Harsha on her...uh...chariot?

In true Indian tradition, Bhavit rode in on a horse (albeit brown and not white) while the groom’s guests lead him into the reception site. Back in India, when the groom marries the bride, this would be the first time that he is entering the bride’s village and the villagers lead him to her. Once we reached the entrance to the hotel, we proceeded into a ballroom for the ceremony. I don’t remember much from the ceremony, as it was about an hour and a half (which is about a 1/5 of the time of a traditional ceremony). The one thing I do remember about the ceremony was that when Harsha was carried in (on a plank like Cleopatra) held by her uncles, she looked exquisite. She wore a bright red sari adorned in jewels and gold accents. Her accessories were equally divine. Her slightest movement sent prisms of light and sparkle across the room.

Following the ceremony, we had a quick break at the hotel to relax, then headed to the reception back at the Ritz. We arrived at the Ritz to a sprawling buffet that included a carving station, mashed potato bar, cheese selection, pulled pork and chicken sandwiches, and more. Having learned from the previous nights that this was merely the canapés, we decided to save room for the main meal and enjoyed a few cocktails instead. After about an hour and a half we were ushered into the main ballroom, which was stunningly decorated. No detail was spared. The Saturday night reception was introduced for the Western wedding guests. Apparently, in Indian tradition Friday night is the main reception. This reception was very westernized. It had the traditional speeches, dances and heavy boozing by guests. The one surprising aspect of the night was the food. The main meal was actually quite small compared to previous nights. We weren’t stuffed, which was a surprise! And apparently some of the guests even ordered hamburgers and snuck them out onto the terrace! Not us, I swear.

The groom and two happy guests

After several hours of dancing and drinking, we made our way on the shuttle back to the hotel. Sunday morning turned out to be pretty lazy following such an eventful few days. As we sat at the airport reminiscing on the weekend, we started to compare notes. Some of the rumours we discussed: there were, apparently 375 guests at the destination wedding, the chef was flown in from India for all of the wedding events, the dj and his crew were flown in from NYC and had to rent equipment in Jamaica which cost around $30K, a videographer and photography ‘team’ were flown in from NYC as well for 5 days, a drummer (who had rumoured to have performed at 1200 Indian weddings) described this as one of the highest end weddings he had been a part of, the wedding weekend costs approximately half a million dollars. Some facts: each of the events were like a traditional Western wedding reception in terms of food, drinks, and entertainment and we had a phenomenal time.

We’re pretty sure we can’t go to another Indian wedding. There is no way it would live up to the expectations we would have since after our first experience the bar has been set incredibly high. Thanks, Bhavit and Harsha!

Geneva & Verbier, Switzerland, Jan 29th - Feb 1st, 2010

Piste, vin chaud, boit askis, apres-ski. These are some of the terms we became familiar with on our first European ski adventure. We knew that this would likely be our last winter living in Europe and we didn't want to leave without skiing in the Alps. The British frequently fly or train to Switzerland, Austria, France, and Italy to ski, but usually it's for a week, with a big group or family in a chalet. We had to make due with a weekend, so on Friday morning at 7am, Erin and I caught a Swiss Air flight to Geneva.  We walked around town for a few hours, took a ride on a sea-saw and had a quick lunch before boarding the train to Verbier.

View of Le Chable on the way to Verbier

The clouds were low so we couldn't enjoy the Swiss scenery in its full glory. After 1 1/2 hours we changed trains in Martingny to board the St. Bernard Express which would take us up to Le Chable. Normally at Le Chable you would walk across the street from the train station to board a cable car up to go straight up to Verbier. For the Wilsons Le Chable was our home base. As I mentioned before the traditional ski holiday consists of a Saturday to Saturday stay in a chalet so the hotel options were limited. We couldn't find a room that didn't require more than a few nights stay in Verbier, at least nothing for less than $300 per night. So instead we stayed in the very humble, yet totally sufficient Hotel Gietroz in Le Chable. It was less than a five minute walk to the base of the cable car from there so it suited our needs. After dropping our bags in our room, we took the cable car up to Verbier. It was about a 15 minute ride in a 4-person enclosed box. Since we were only two, we were able to spread out. It was snowing hard though so the visibility was limited.

Once we arrived, our first priority was to sort our ski rentals for the week. Our friend Kathleen had highly recommended Boit'askis (The Ski Box?) and for good reason. It was about 4pm, but they kitted us out with skis, boots and poles so we could just pick them up quickly the next morning. Also, during the day they let you leave your walking boots and a small bag at the rental place. It was a nice convenience so we didn't have to walk around/in town carrying our ski boots and skis. Well done Boit'askis!

Main strip in town

We hadn't yet completed a single run, but considering the hour we were ready for some pre-skiing apres-ski. First though we took a long walk around town (of course!) After wandering for 20-30 minutes, we realized that we were the only walkers. Everyone must already be hitting the apres-ski, or resting up at home before dinner.

Christmas tree still up in Feb....WT.

We wandered into a bar called L'Atelier for a drink and a piping hot basket of shoe-string french fries with garlic mayo. We haven't lived here so long that we've forgone ketchup with our fries, but this stuff was delish! Having fattened up a bit and put on our alcohol coats, we wandered around Verbier a little more, searching for a good place for dinner. We settled on Chez Martin for pizza and pasta. We were with the early-bird crowd at around 7pm. The last cable car back to Le Chable runs at 6:45 so we tried to sort out the bus schedule. After waiting about 20 minutes in the 2 feet of snow, we gave up and hailed a taxi back down the mountain. There was a little confusion about the price as the driver had quoted me sixteen francs before we climbed in and sixty as we were getting out. I guess when he initially said "soixant," my brain could not comprehend that a 10 minute cab ride, even in Verbier, could possibly run north of 30 francs. Lesson learned.

View from our hotel room

We had one last drink at the bar in Le Gietroz before heading to bed. Saturday morning we were up bright and early (actually is was cloudy and snowy...and it was definitely after 8:00!) for a breakfast of bread rolls, butter, jam, and coffee at the hotel. The Swiss women who ran the hotel and the restaurant were very friendly - they didn't laugh too hard at my crappy French. We then picked up our skis at Boit and made our way to the top of the main Verbier lift (a six-person cable car) called Medran. There were very few people on the lift and we soon learned why. At mid mountain, it was nearly impossible to see a thing. Since this was our first time on this mountain and also because trail markings are limited, we struggled severely to make our way down. Erin is always pretty nervous on her first run (and 2nd and 3rd...) even in ideal conditions so this was truly challenging. Along the way down the winding blue trail (blue trails are the easiest ones in Europe...or at least in Switzerland) we added a few other hopelessly lost skiers to our group. There was a French man and two Slovenian women who shared our predicament so the five of us slowly made our way down together. I lead most of the way so it was definitely blind leading the blind. It wasn't possible to see more than 5 feet so I joked that they should "stay close, but leave enough distance to stop yourself if I vanish off a cliff...I'll try to yell." Everyone laughed awkwardly.

As we approached the bottom the visibility gradually improved which helped everyone to relax. By the time we got back to the top of Medran, the clouds had lifted and the rest of the day was incredible. The poor viz had kept most people off the mountain so it felt like we had it to ourselves. We ate lunch at Cafe Ruinettes and were happy to have packed our cheese, salami, and bread as the $10 soup and $20 spaghetti bolognese seemed a bit steep. In the afternoon, Erin and I went our separate ways, me to explore some new (not just blue) runs and Erin to ski at her own pace without worrying about me getting bored (her words). Over dinner that night we both agreed that our favorite runs of the day were the ones spent apart.

Our hotel is just across the bridge

That evening we went for apres-ski at Garbo's, a bar that reminded me a little bit of Lloyd's dream sequence in Dumb And Dumber when Aspen's rich folks are sitting around an indoor fire in turtle necks and Christmas sweaters drinking vin chaud and hot cocoa. It was definitely up-scale, but representative of Verbier. I generally think of ski vacations as sport and adventure first, everything else a distant second. In Verbier, the food, fashion, and "scene "seemed almost on equal footing to the skiing. My view of past skiing experiences is largely shaped by my Wilson family tradition. I'm sure there are places in the U.S. that are similar to Verbier and places elsewhere in Switzerland that are more like Mt. Hood and Bend, OR. Anyway, it was fun and stereotypical, but we left after one drink.

We tried to find another restaurant in Le Chable for dinner, but ended up at Restaurant Gietroz for steak-frites before hitting the hay. Sunday was another slow start and Erin was sore from top to tail. Her nerves make her really tense on the slopes so everything from her calves to her fingers (gripping poles for dear life) were tight. It was sunny and the crowds were heaving at the base of Medran. Erin and I split up again for a few runs and it was only then that I realized how much more there was to Verbier than we had seen the previous day. The conditions were amazing. The terrain varied from wide, gentle groomed runs at Le Chaux to cliffs, powder, and moguls (in addition to groomed runs) off Attelas.

Finally some nice weather to accompany the GREAT skiing.

Erin's favourite area quickly became Le Chaux so I left her there and headed for the top of the mountain.  First, from the base of Le Chaux I took Le Jumbo, a 150-person cable car to Col des Gentianes, followed by a smaller cable car to the top of Mont Fort at 3,300 meters. It's the highest point in Verbier, a bit lower than the top of Mt. Hood in Oregon, but a few thousand feet higher than the highest lifts there will take you. On a clear day, the 360 degree view of the surrounding Alps must be incredible. The warnings about glaciers, crevasses, and NOT LEAVING THE PISTE WITHOUT A GUIDE!! were enough to keep me focused. It had taken me about 30 minutes to get up that far so I knew the ride down would be worth while. The terrain was challenging at the top, but eventually gave way to long, sweeping reds (intermediate) before dropping me back at the bottom of Le Chaux. It became immediately apparent that Verbier was not all about just the apres-ski, but there was plenty of room for good, serious skiing as well.

The top of Mont Fort in the clouds

After a quick lunch (and being scoffed at for eating our grocery-store lunch in the cafe...Non!) we went back to Le Chaux. To reach that area, you can either ride a "red" run down to the lower, easier pistes, or you can ride the cable car all the way down. I gently encouraged Erin to give the reds a try, me being confident in her abilities and all. She said "no thanks" until another Swiss dude sharing our cable car told her she could do it. To him, she said cheerily, "ok!" and popped out of the lift...incredible.

On the last run of our last day, Erin and I stuck together. Mistake! I took her to the top of a red that was admittedly quite steep. The water works began as the corners of her lips started to aim downward. "I'm not happy with you right now," she says, failing to hold back tears. Great way to end the trip, dummy, (me, not her) I thought. Where was that confidence-building Swiss dude, now? I took my skis off and offered to carry hers the 100 feet back up to the lift so she could ride it down. I knew that would be enough to get her to give the run a try, albeit reluctantly. She may not like to charge down the mountain at high speed, but she's not one to give up that easily either. Eventually she started down, probably out of spite for me since I had started walking back up to the lift. She (of course!) made it down fine. And (of course!) was happy to have conquered the challenging run once she was down.

Verbier in the background during a break in the clouds

As the lifts closed down, we hung around at the base of Medran to listen to a Rolling Stones cover band. We then went to Les Chamois for a huge fondue dinner (meat in oil, not bread in cheese). It was nice and rustic and there was a large crackling fire to complete the scene. We slept hard on Sunday night before waking at 5:50 the next morning to catch an early train back to Geneva. Erin flew home in time to work half a day in London on Monday while I stayed for a bunch of client meetings that week.

Jason came out for the client meetings as well and on Thursday morning (from Zurich) we took a train to Flumserberg to go sledding. Trent's sister Larssyn lives just outside Zurich and they had both visited us in London a few weeks earlier. She mapped out the closest good place for us to go. It was a long journey for a short stint on the mountain, but it was well worth the effort. Jason and I raced down the 3km slope three times, nearly taking out the other sledders (yes, mostly children and teenagers) in a bid to reach the bottom first. It was hilarious. We almost missed the train back to Zurich - missing it would have caused us to miss our afternoon client meeting. That wouldn't have been an easy one to explain.

All in all it was a successful trip both personally and professionally. Thanks Uncle Morgan for helping to sponsor one of our weekend getaways.

Pictures here: