It snowed.
Almost all winter, and even in Grenoble town.
That doesn't imply that I did a lot of snowball fights, but it does imply a lot of adventures anyway.

I remember that day, not so long before leaving for a skiing week.
I was in a hurry, so I didn't pay proper attention to the anti-skid rubber in front of my building's entrance.
I should have, as underneath there was a block of marble.
Slippy marble, I should add.
Then, as I set my foot on the (so called) anti-skid rubber, I felt it giving way, and before I could do anything, my left elbow was painfully hitting the ground, and my left knee, feeling left apart, smashed the pavement as well.
Cutting my favorite trousers on its way to be even closer to the ground. And cutting itself (I mean, my knee).

Bleeding, I went back to my apartment to lick my wounds, and change clothes.
And, I figure out in the next few weeks that it was not my elbow, nor my knee that suffered the most from this fall.
It was my shoulder.
In fact, I should have seen some kind of doctors, who would have told me to stop snowboarding...
No way.
Like a great warrior (or a dumb one), I went snowboarding.
How couldn't I? Fresh snow, friends... And fresh snow.
So, for some times, I was happy to leave tracks behind me, and to try some easy figures (for I am not a free-rider) like 180, or holy (I told you, easy).

Do you have any idea of how many time I fall?
A lot.
On my back, on both arms, on my bottom, on my knees...
That didn't help my blue knee (from the bruise) nor my shoulder.

And as my knee was hurt, and I only could land softly on my bottom with the help of one of my arms.
As it could not be the left one, I only landed on my right one. And on my right buttock.
Can you imagine asymmetrical muscle soreness? It is very uncomfortable.

But then, it still kicks ass.
But maybe I had a little less fun when a white day occurred.
Don't know what a white day is? It's when every thing is white. The mountains, for snow. And the sky, for snowing.
So that you can't see anything.
Luckily for me, the snow was fresh and powdery, so that it didn't hurt when I fall. Still, I'd never bent my knees that much.
It was like: "Oh, so there were a bump, here." after a feeling the ground higher than expected.
Or looking at a gate pole and thinking: "Hey, this stake is moving! Ah, no, that's me gliding along."
Then it was fun anyway (fresh snow!).

And that is what I missed the most in Dublin.
Come to France! Come skiing!
And then go have a couple of mulled wine. And then a fondue.
And then rest.
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