Up a mountain....

There is a bit of background to this trip....when we first took delivery of the hairdryer on wheels that was the last rental car my husband (who'd obviously not been swatting up on his highway code) suggested a drive one rainy, cold, misty and thoroughly foul evening and off we set. Now when we came to a major junction, I demurred to his alleged superior knowledge of the local landscape and went straight on towards a mountain.....well the road started to go straight on and then very soon decided it would snake up the mountain in sharp hairpin bends....particularly unfortunate due to the hairdryer's size making the windscreen seem far too small in the inclement conditions. Eventually we reached a place to turn around and we began the descent again....at which point I asked why he'd chosen that route...? A confusion over the colours of motorway and main road signs it turned out and not one he has made since, thankfully.

Anyway this weekend in the sunshine we made the same trip up the mountain, the added power of this car and the fact that the visibilty was far far better making it slightly less of an exercise in controlled breathing and trying not to allow the height and the fact that I have an inexplicable fear of hill starts affect me. Eventually we reached the village at the top, where we stopped for a late lunch in a bistro type place, resplendent with cow bells. I opted for a fruits of the forest tagiatelle, which given the time of year I (stupidly) assumed might come with a nice selection of wild mushrooms, I mean you can buy in the supermarkets surely they'd use them in a restaurant....but no there was the very perceptible hint of vinegar to every mouthful that included one of the mushrooms....is this an altitudinal or attidudinal thing??

One thing that was proven to be universal..teenagers are annoying wherever in the world they are, particularly when they are hanging out, sharing one beer between four of them, all chatting on their mobiles as well as to each other at the table next to you when you are trying to enjoy a sedate and nearly grown-up lunch. Needless to say I was beginning to understand why everyone who went to the whingeing female teen's house went to sleep as soon as they arrived...her conversation was stultifyingly dull.

Anyway this wasn't supposed to be a long blog, just a way to avoid the dreaded ironing mountain that is fast competing with Mont Blanc for title of tallest mountain in Europe. On a related note it would appear that there is still better ski-ing at the milton keynes snow-dome than there is in Switzerland and there may by the weekend be better ski-ing in Milton Keynes town centre itself, nevermind the snow-dome. I am being cheated by the very thing that encouraged me to move out here rather than stay on in London....the snow!

Right, maybe if I get back to the ironing the shift in air pressure from all the steam might make a difference, or may be not, may be it'll just be like ironing always is......very very boring and so what a natural choice of past time in such a desperately bland cultural vacuum like this place.