In my head, I could ski a sixth day, but my legs sent me a message they would rather not be forced into tights and salopettes and my feet were quite reluctant to be squashed into the boots again, well, I am a martyr to my feet.
Noel of course can ski all day and all night, at least that’s what he tells me. Something to do with it being in his instructor’s contract. But he was happy to take a day off and head for Salt Lake City and visit capital of Mormonism.
We’ve been here before, so we declined the tour offered by the very friendly sisters from Switzerland and Argentina, instead we did our own thing and wandered around, taking photos. The lunchtime organ recital was about to start so we sat down to enjoy the fabulous acoustics in the silver-topped Tabernacle. You know the saying about hearing a pin drop? The Tabernacle designers did something so clever with the acoustics that dressmakers are searched before they enter.
As non-Mormons, we’re not allowed in the Temple, in fact not even all the faithful can enter. Feisty Sister Ada, who’d been a missionary in Birmingham not long after the war, told us her husband couldn’t go in because he had a glass of wine on occasions. Ada said her memories of Brum were of the cold and damp, and houses without central heating, we told her not much had changed.
By the way, Day Five was a Superbowl experience, we watched the Green Bay Packers score some goals – Noel attempted to explain the rules. He explained, I just didn’t understand. Back to the slopes tomorrow.