Hammering Rain on a Metre of Snow, Le Praz de Lys

Zagan the motorhome’s being seriously lashed on! A rather loud noise has just echoed around us, having us wonder whether an avalanche just happened, or maybe thunder. He’s up 1500m above sea level, at the ski resort of Le Praz de Lys, and despite being surrounded by meter-deep snow, it’s weirdly honking it down with rain. We’re at the winter aire (N46.14136 E6.60322), which comes in at €10 a night (€8 for the 4^th night onwards).

The motorhome aire at Le Praz de Lys, France

Le Praz de Lys – the lower level of the motorhome aire – packed with French vans in early February

The place is so well geared up, you could easily spend a couple of months here: the fresh water and disposal’s working, there’s electrical hook-up for most of the vans, gas bottles available on the aire, and a small but well stocked supermarket and laundrette a 15 min walk away. If you’re skiing, you can ski from and to (almost) your van’s door. Steve, the only other Brit on the aire, told us there were only a few vans here before the weekend, but the French school hols have kicked in, and it’s now packed.

Last night we cooked up our mate Jon’s recipe for Spanish Chicken. He cooks it in the oven, using on-the-bone pieces of chicken, which is without doubt the tastiest option. As we have no oven, other than the double-skillet, and since we want to use less gas, we use chicken breasts cut into inch-sized cubes. The recipe’s a one-potter and simple: brown the chicken in a bit of oil, then chuck in peeled and diced spuds, chunks of chorizo, rough-cut onion, black olives and crushed garlic. Grind over a bit of salt and pepper. Cover and simmer, stirring it when you remember. Jobsa goodun, tastes lovely, ideal motorhome grub.

If I can cook this, anyone can!

Spanish Chicken, motorhome style one-pot grub

Waking up this morning, I listened. Being in here, with the blinds closed, we could be anywhere. The sounds around us sometimes give the game away. This morning the clues of our surroundings came from the rumbling steel-blue waters of the mountain river alongside us, the occasional car splashing at speed alongside the road, individual drops of rain battering the roof and locals dropping their rubbish into the huge cylindrical communal bins in front of us.

Game over, we got up, showered, ate and set out for here. Down into the valley we rode, through a twisting one-way system and past lines of bright-clad ski-clutching folks waiting for the bus to lift them out of the rain to the slopes above. Finding our turning we, ah, turned and started the ascent up through a series of lazy switchbacks. There was little traffic, but I noted a full-sized tanker coming down the hill, and figured “if he can make it up there, so can I!”

Spotted on the way out of the valley: if you fancy a ski lift cabin for your garden, we know where to get you one

Shortly after a sign popped up at our next turn-off up to the resort: “Road Closed due to Landslide”. Merde. We halted to one side in the broad junction and read the sign again. Underneath it said “open every day between 7:30 and 23:00hrs”. Erm? Is it shut or not? Best option: wait and see if anyone else goes up there. A few minutes later, a car, then a van headed up. Leaning forwards, mouth dry at the prospect of a 43 point turn in the narrow road, or the surface simply turning to sheet ice higher up, we ploughed on. Neither happened: traffic lights guided us past the pinch point created by the fallen mud and rock, and the road stayed perfectly clear all the way into the resort.

Oh Merde, again. Passing what appeared to be a closed motorhome aire, satnav requested we drive another 10 minutes up what seemed to be a half-ice, half-road road. This time one’s knuckles went white, brakes were gently but firmly applied, and we came to a halt with me shaking my head. An ambulance, blue’s flashing, shot past. Ju jumped out, reversing camera extraordinaire, and guided me back out. Checking at the aire we’d just passed, we found it was actually open, and as Steve later pointed out the one we were heading for is closed in winter. Phew.

Settling in here we’ve spent our afternoon walking the snow-bound paths around the resort, checking out the approach of our neighbours to dealing with the conditions, and mulling over how much gas and battery capacity we have. Our leccy cable won’t reach the hook-up point, but in theory if we only stay a couple of days, we won’t need it anyway. The weather forecast’s telling is to expect a foot of snow tonight, and -5 to -9°C temperatures. But at the moment that seems scarcely believable. It’s 6pm and still a degree above freezing outside. The rain’s consistently hosing us all off, not a flake of snow in sight. Somehow the sky-diving water doesn’t seem to be washing the road grime off us though, dammit!

Charlie has insisted we get him a dog-sack too

Most of the lifts are open, and the resort was busy today with families

Cheers, Jay