Lauterbrunnen, Bernese Oberland - SWITZERLAND

WEDNESDAY 17TH FEBRUARY 1999

This morning we were up at the crack of dawn, eagerly preparing for what was going to be an awesome days skiing. Last night flakes of snow fell constantly on the car and when we opened the door to our winter wonderland a bank of snow level with our carpet taunted us. I recall walking across the toilet block in knee deep powder knowing that every turn carved on the slopes will be inspirational!!

At Lauterbrunnen station we found the funicular to Murren closed for a week due to avalanche danger and were a little disappointed not to be able to ride up its steep face. Although in alternative Swiss style a shuttle bus moved us towards the Stechelberg cable car located further down the valley. Small chalets and wooden farmhouses littered the valley which was covered in a blanket of soft snow, with the shadows of trees with crooked branches dangling their claws across the road. In a flash we passed the Trummelbach falls where the areas glaciers melt into in the months of spring, presumably resembling something like Niagara!!

Soon the cable car swept us along a cliff-face covered with pinnacles of ice and a drop to frighten the most fearsome pioneer. Another cable car met up with us at the top and whisked us like clockwork into Murren. Home to many quaint wooden chalets, car-free roads and a ski resort full of the steepest runs in the area.

You'll all be pleased to know we spent the entire day in knee deep powder, over moguls, in the odd ray of sunlight, but mostly under snowy skies. My favourite followed the new Stechelberg quad down a black mogul run, whose slopes I could have ploughed for the entire day. By mid-afternoon, in poor visibility, we moved across the resort, beneath the towering Schilthorn, where the famous mountain scenery from James Bond's "On Her Majesty's Secret Service" was filmed. At odd moments we even found ourselves following sled runs and narrow mountain paths until we came to the Winteregg area. The snow here to was at times up to our knees, the runs framed by pine trees and where the icy winds would whip up the mountains, offering a balmy -18 degrees. A Mars bar pit-stop was made in record time to stop my fingers from freezing.

For the last two hours we made our way back to our favourite quad and at the end of the day made our way across the resort, up Murren's funicular and in desperation across to Winteregg in order to ski the trail that runs all the way down the cliff face and into Lauterbrunnen. But alas we were thwarted by time and found ourselves stranded at the base of a poma lift. After a bit of energetic hill climbing the last poor souls made their way off the mountain in fading light over the newly fallen powder that was covering the days tracks.

Exhausted we made our way back to the campsite, skis and all, to a higher bank of snow, a warm shower, bangers and mash and fell asleep to the patter of falling snow and blasts of pinnacles of ice falling to the ground from the nearby waterfall.