The joy of six

Two thermal base layers. One long sleeved T shirt. Two fleeces. Two pairs of thermal long johns. Salopettes and ski jacket. Six layers up top and four down below. That's what I've worn on the mountain for the past two days.

It wasn't enough.

From a freakish high of 12 degrees C on our first day to a low of minus 20 on our last, Odyssey 2014 has seen an incredible temperature range. The early days, when we skied wearing just t-shirts under our jackets, seemed like a different lifetime yesterday.

Temperatures aside the weather has remained amazingly stable throughout our twelve day stay - dry and sunny bar a mildly snowy couple of days late last week. Not what we expect in Whistler, but you roll the dice with every ski trip. We've been blessed with record-breaking snow here on two of our four visits. Can't complain.

These final few days have been all about keeping our extremities unfrozen, venturing cautiously away from the groomed trails in search of anything other than rock-hard crust, and doing our best to stay upright on increasingly icy terrain. There was fun to be had, and we had it, but Mother Nature has made us work for it.

Are we glad we came? Hell, yes. It's been a huge success on many levels. Having taken a big confidence knock last year, I've made a quantum leap with my skiing in 2014. Our apartment is a haven of comfort and convenience, and came at a sensible price. Everyone we've encountered - from ski instructors to mountain staff to restaurant staff to fellow skiers - has been a pleasure to deal with. We've eaten extremely well both on the mountain and in the resort, at expensive rather than obscene prices.

On our previous two trips we skied on the day of our departure, but an earlier flight defeated us this time. I must be going soft in the twilight of my thirties, but I don't mind relaxing by a gently hissing fire, tea close by, with hours in hand before leaving for the airport. Outside, it's minus 13C here in the resort, and minus 26C at the peaks. That's cold enough to make frostbite a real concern; with no fresh snow, everyone else is welcome to our mountains today.

Sad to be leaving as always. But we're both in one piece - never a foregone conclusion on a ski trip - and there's much to look forward to. 

And although we've missed the powder this time, Whistler is still the Daddy. 

'Let's go and see Dave.' A fleeting photocall outside the Chic Pea restaurant before we take on Dave Murray, the Olympic Men's downhill run. Whistler Mountain, 3 February 2014.

'Get out of my picture!' Marianne risks frostbite for a pristine shot of Blackcomb. Camel Back, Harmony, Whistler Mountain, 3 February 2014.

Our final lunch, and a welcome break from the deep freeze. Look closely and you'll see the thousand-yard stares. Roundhouse, Whistler Mountain, 3 February 2014