The usual dawn run to the airport was interrupted by a detour via Fernhill Heath to collect Kim's passport. This caused no problems with our departure from Birmingham, it just left less time at the airport for everybody to cram themselves into a photo booth to get that last minute ski pass photo which inevitably when we arrived in Sauze we didn't need.

As we approached Sauze in the transfer bus from the airport it wasn't increasing amounts of snow that greeted us but increasing amounts of rocks, grass and slush. Naturally throughout the closing stages of the journey the tour rep, having clocked us peering in dismay out of the windows, assured us there was plenty of snow up the mountain, equally naturally, he was lying.

We were staying at the Grand Palace Hotel in the centre of Sauze town; the hotel was neither grand nor a palace. The people that received most benefit from the hotel food were the local restauranteurs who did a roaring trade most nights of the week with half-board Grand Palace residents.

The early part of the week was spent at the top of the mountain hunting for snow which when discovered wasn't too bad, the lower slopes, however, were not good. This prompted the idea of a trip across to Val Thorens in France where we were assured there was tons of snow. When we arrived in France there certainly was tons of snow, but there was also tons of fog, so much you could hardly see the skis on the end of your legs. From the top of Val Thorens we set off down the mountain in convoy, someone must have been leading but no one, not even the leader himself, had a clue who was at the head of the line. After some considerable time skiing virtually blind in the fog we arrived at the bottom of the mountain, the bottom of which mountain we were soon to realise was very important. We had managed to ski completely off the mountain we were supposed to be on and, crucially, the mountain we had ski passes for, onto an adjoining mountain and down to the roadside. To get back up to the nearest gondola involved yomping, indeed a lot of yomping, seemingly for miles. When we finally arrived at the nearest lift station we were politely informed that our ski passes were not valid on that mountain. None of us had a great deal of cash about our person and the saving grace was Martin's credit card that thankfully secured passes to get us all back to where we should have been. A potentially disastrous day was thankfully turned around by the discovery of some fantastic snow on the lower slopes of Val Thorens in the afternoon, by this time the fog had cleared, the sun had broken through and a superb afternoon's skiing was had by all.

Back in Sauze a snowfall overnight on the Tuesday improved conditions no end and switching between Sauze and Sestriere was the order of the day for the remainder of the week. Unfortunately a number of the winding paths which normally can be used to ski across to Sestriere were closed and as we passed over them in the gondola it was clear to see why as the majority of the paths were just covered with thin slushy snow with rocks protruding everywhere. With the majority of the lower paths closed movement between mountains was exclusively by gondola and jovial chit chat about approaching U.S military aircraft could always be heard as we reached the crossing points furthest from the ground.

On the social side, all the usual bars were still in existence and a few new ones had sprung up. We spent a lot of time in the Scotch Bar at the foot of the slopes, Andy Capp's was less well frequented than on previous visits and, of course there was the underground Karaoke Bar. In the Karaoke bar several members of the team repeatedly proved, over several nights, that they really couldn't sing a note, the primary protagonists here being Tony Ross, Alex Morley, Steve Hench, Debbie, Helen, Simon Tanser, Jenny, Neil and Siobhan and also (shock horror) Geoff Potter. Eventually, towards the end of the week, Gibbo hauled his huge frame up onto the stage and proved he could sing, much to the disbelief of the resident DJ who had suffered the rest of our vocal offerings all week. The surprise absentee most nights from the Karaoke Bar was Adey Masters, but we soon found out why. Adey had discovered a small bar where a guy played guitar each evening, unfortunately the guy could play American Pie. We eventually were persuaded to join Adey in the bar and naturally we were treated to a full rendition of Mr. McLean's classic. We all recognised the look on Kaz's face while Adey was in full flow, for each time we had heard it, Kaz had heard it 10 times.

A special note of gratitude must be reserved for Jason Wyatt, big Jim's lad, who had come along for the first time to look after his father. Jason managed to keep his old man under control far better than any of us have managed in previous years and the result was that the evening mayhem generally didn't get too out of hand.

Thankfully there were no broken bones during the course of the week, the only major casualty being Louise who twisted the ligaments in her knee towards the end of the week and ended her skiing for this year.

Geoff Potter neatly avoided the risk of broken bones by rising bright and early most mornings, getting fully kitted out in all his ski gear and then sitting in the bar all day.

As usual it was hard to imagine why we hadn't had more casualties considering the tree-lined narrow routes preferred by Martin and Fez. Where Martin went, Adey, Kaz & Siz were sure to follow ending up on one particular occasion waist deep in snow in a clearing. Carpy and Bud spent the week seeking out piste-side jumps and ridges and often spending most of the day airborne. How they didn't injure themselves or anyone else was a constant mystery to us all.

At the end of the week we headed off to the airport to listen to Carpy's annual bleating about the fact that he was being asked to put a fiver in the pot for Maz and another week of the Powderhounds on tour was over.

Roll on Les Menuires 2001