The flight went smoothly, I was heading for the Pyrenees and a group of cadets were hoping that snow had fallen. The women in my diary were being let off the hook, because I wanted some time thinking clearly and not concentrating on England and my meetings. They liked me more than my children and my friends had become a liability. That was the great adventurous challenge, to lose my bearings and find them on a ski slope in a better shape than before. Travel writing does that, I had been told, I hoped I would reach that goal and always wanted to write something that could guide somebody, but more geographically than morally.