Fred, Règine, and I woke up with Marie when she started to get ready for the day around 8:00 a.m. I threw the covers off of me and pivoted out of bed; it was a mistake because I felt sore from my intense skiing the past few days. Règine and I were out the door before the others and waited patiently on the hill outside the hotel with our snow gear on and our skis on our feet. We made small talk until the others slowly finished getting ready.
We took the first ski lift, then Floureen needed to stop because she commented she was not feeling well. Floureen told us that she had been sick since two weeks ago and wanted to go back to rest. My group members would not hear of it and insisted that she stay. After a long negotiation, Floureen skied with us down a few hills, then went back to the appartement with Stephen. Règine, Fred, Marrie, and I were left to tackle the slopes.
At 2:00 p.m. we stopped at a random restaurant and discussed our daily lives as we ate french fries and eggs. I mentioned something in french and my group members didn't understand. I said that the weather was not bad, however, I used the wrong word for "bad." Three different words for the word "bad" exist in french: mal, mauvais, et tort. Many words in french or in english do not translate into the other perfectly or they have multiple words for one word in the other language. French can be complicated sometimes.
Marrie wanted to ski down a black piste after we finished our lunch and back on the ski paths. The slope was difficult (because it's the hardest level) and I took my time making my way down. Fred was ahead of me and I noted he was descending faster than was necessary. The path curved and a few busts lay before us. Fred didn't see the busts at the bottom of the hill and flew into the air when he hit one of the busts at the wrong angle. He couldn't maneuver between them at the speed he was traveling at. I stopped near him where he crashed face-down into the snow. The impact was so intense it knocked the wind out of him and he ventilated and burst into tears. Marrie yelled at Fred about his spontaneous behavior while he was having a break down. When Fred calmed down and got ahold of his breath we continued on our way.
We stopped skiing not long after Fred had his accident because his ribs were sore where he collided with the icy ground. At the hotel, we went to the deck on the roof and drank many rounds of hot chocolate (most skiers become addicted to hot chocolate). Surprisingly, it was extremely warm and I was comfortable wearing a tank top. As I think back about the moment I consider it strange that I wore an outfit casual enough for a beach party in the Val Thorens station surrounded by the Alps.
The girls wanted to shop more and we entered a ski shop. We left three hours later with new ski boots for Marrie and Règine. The vender was a good sales man and smooth talked them into the purchase (it also helped that he was attractive). The next place we headed to was a butchery to rent a mini hot stove for dinner that night. At 10:00 p.m. we came back and began to cook our meal. The special part about the mini stove is that anyone can put whatever they want on it and eat the food immediately when it finished cooking while sitting at the table.
Before the day began Floureen became sick and left and missed out on a day of skiing, however, Fred became ill also after he had his accident on the black piste. They were both courageous, however, pain prevented them from continuing. To distract ourselves from our misery, we drank lots of hot chocolate. The meal for dinner was the most unusual and delicious food I tasted since I came to Val Thorens. This day was one well spent.