Next morning we left our cases with our ski boots and skis and waited in the dark deserted lobby for the porter to arrive and take our cases to the station in time for the 6.05am train. At 5.55am he had not appeared, but a pleasant and efficient young girl arrived, opened up the reception and telephoned the porter while we went down to the ski room and dragged our cases out into the freezing darkness, prepared to trundle them down through the snow to the station. The porter came running up the hill (the path up to the hotel isn’t long, but performs a z to make the slope more do-able), threw open the garage doors, backed out the little cart, which is more like a motorised sledge and open to the snow and wind, and caught us up at the first bend. He caught the other couple halfway to the second bend and roared off to the station with all our luggage piled in the cart behind him. The train pulled in two minutes later and we all jumped in to be out of the cold. Phew!