Time was when all I required for a day on the piste was a pair of navy and white Salomon rear-entry boots, a nifty one-piece ski suit (padded shoulders, nipped in waist), thermal gloves and a silly hat. Sillier the better. Sun cream and lip salve in one pocket, hankie in another, crumpled piste map…
Month: January 2017
Spiky balls and bicycles
‘Not that I go round randomly sniffing balls,’ said my neighbour Helen, remarkably seriously, and entirely unsolicited. ‘But I definitely caught a whiff of vanilla’. ‘Really?’ I said, spiky ball under nose, equally seriously. ‘Oh yeah’. We were appraising the Strawberry How torture chamber, from the comfort of the sofas, a couple of glasses of wine into our…
Hackette on the How 