At the dinner table

Teams of boarders and skiers set off from the top of the dunes in choreographed waves, triggering sand-slip cascades in broad lines and vees of scintillating light descending like slow, ghostly surf and weaving gently sparkling trails of soft blue, green and crimson tracks across the sighing sands, myriad necklaces of enchanted dust glowing like linear galaxies in the night.

Boxing day, so the chalet staff have the day off. It’s surprisingly relaxing helping ourselves to breakfast without people bustling around “helping” us.

Angus decides he needs some personal space, so Claire, Megan, and I head off without him. We reach Signal, west of Courchevel, and find some splendid red runs beside the Chapelet lift. We clock over 70 km/h bursting down them.

We meet up with Angus for frites and vin chaud back at Val Thorens in the early afternoon. The weather has been cold and cloudy, but it’s beginning to thicken and snow is looming.

Up Plein Sud, it gets greyer. Angus and I venture off piste only to tumble spectacularly in the frozen, crusty snow.

Later, it’s dinner at La Pause - a real treat of a French restaurant. The food is lovely, the portions satisfying, but leaving you wanting more. Glowing, we stumble back to the apartment.