All you need to do is go up to the top of Bruson when there is zero visibility. Seriously, you could hardly see your hands in front of your face. You couldn't even determine which was up and which was down.
You could, however, see the positive side, if you chose to...
So...although nothing was visible apart from murk, it wasn't icy, there weren't moguls and it wasn't life-threateningly steep. And even if all these things applied you couldn't see them anyway! The only thing you could do was trust yourself and go for it.
Bit like life, see,
Oh, we had such an exciting time during our coffee break, sitting at a table with a lone Swede, who showed us photos on his phone...at first, beautiful scenery, but then...model trains... Being British, we were terribly polite.
Not so polite when we discovered one of the ski runs was called Pissevache...as in cow wee.
Our other thrill was the formation of what came to be known as snoticles. The drips from Geoffrey's nose actually froze. (It was bitterly cold) One was at least an inch long.
For some reason, he wouldn't allow us to photograph him...and anyway, he was almost invisible.
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