The weekend before we left Switzerland for Christmas, we drove back up into the Jura for a walk.
Summer hiking trails turn into winter snowshoeing and cross country skiing trails.
The snow was packed enough that we we able to walk on the snowshoe trail sans accouterments (two words of French! In a row!)
It was significantly colder than Lausanne. I had to break out my Extreme-Chicago-Level-Of-Winter-Puffyness coat.
Among the sport enthusiasts, there were lots of babies learning to cross country ski. They looked hilarious, all bundled up in their snowsuits, their cheeks bright red. Learning to ski in general, looks quite difficult so I felt quite sympathetic with the three-year-old collapsed on the side of the trail, totally sick of the whole experience.
Anthony explained to me that woodpiles are an appropriately manly background for a photo. So I obliged.
Hard to believe that we've been here a (over!) a year already.