Day 7: A very early start!
Not even time for the morning chorus today, up at 6am and out the door to catch the first bus over to Arc 1600. Down the first funicular to get the first bus to Sainte Foy. Already this was setting out to be a day of firsts. Still snowing heavily, much FEAR and anticipation of the day ahead - would it stop/would there be a whiteout/will we ever get there? Still, the bus dropped us off in the lower Sainte Foy village, where we were told to wait for a minibus to take us up to the resort itself. This pulled up pretty quickly, Mr Good Stuff asking the driver if he would be taking us to Santa Fe. Whether it was the broken Spench and Franglish or just that he got out of the wrong side of bed, this driver was hating us immediately. In typical French style, he just took off into the cafe opposite. Got ourselves in there - SKIER HEAVEN, yes we stood out like carrots in a bag of sprouts. Found the driver having his breakfast, so figured we'd do the same. Obviously, by the time ours came he decided it was time to leave.
Got almost up to the village but road hadn't been cleared so sliding all over the place, annoying the driver further still. Or was it the foul stench coming from a certain Fart Tennis star with us? Dear me that was not good; poor skier guys in front of us having to get the windows open quick. Pas bon!
Poo [Poudre] Everywhere
So where is everyone? Just as I'd been reading about, there really was barely anyone here in Ste Foy! Coupled with untouched powder everywhere. Perfect. Got ourselves sorted with a guide for the afternoon, got some transceivers and packs sorted, then up the one and only lift. Ok, so the visibility wasn't the best, but the higher we got the more pow there was. With this amount, there was no need to go off piste (they don't seem to actually get the piste bashers out anyway here). Knee-deep on piste! Get in! Massive cheesey grins all round, loving it. Back up again and nobody had even been down where we had - seriously like having a whole mountain to yourselves! Spent the rest of the morning horsing it round through the trees, then bit of a schoolboy error onto a closed piste. Couldn't figure out why it was closed as the first bit was awesome. Ah, yes, then the last 300 metres or so was a thin layer of neige on top of thick mud and rocks. Oops. Got lunch in the oldest building in France (well, it looks like it is!) then off to meet our guide.
Into The Backcountry
Our guide, Nicholas, took us straight to the "Off Tracks" area under the Aiguille lift, gutted though as immediately the whiteout closed right in around us. Couldn't see a thing, so just had to sit it out for a bit. Got down to the trees and rode some pretty mad stuff down there until vis improved. Back up to the top and over to the new lift La Marquaise. He was telling us of one of the descents we could do in better weather that would take us from there all the way down to near the dam at Tignes. Something like an hour-and-a-half's ride down! Sweet. Although ours turned out to be about the same anyway.
Still pretty bad vis, we started hiking just past a sign reading "Past this point you are putting your lives, that of your friends, and the emergency services at risk. You have been warned!". Alrighty then, that put the shits up us. My rib wasn't too happy about the hiking, and this boot pack was a bit unstable, no idea what was below, but Jarmarl saved me a few times. 
Eventually finished the hike and got our breath back before dropping in to the soft white deepness. Oh, and where this photo of us 4 was taken, well there was a damn big cornice about 2 metres behind us. Feck.
We Can See Again!
Within about 50 metres it all cleared - awesome. Well, from here on down it was waist-deep pow all the way. BIG hits to fly off, landing in more soft white stuff. This is what we came for. Down into the trees and on to a mad path high above a river - very tight turns, didn't want to get anything wrong down here! Ended up in what seemed like an abandoned mountain village, riding through the middle of it, reminded me of a bit in the December movie. Which is also where I managed to give my board a free base grind across the tarmac. Classic from the Goodey here, thinking that the guide was riding it all one-footed, goes for it himself "How the feck's that dude doing it, man?". Guide goes up the banks on left and right, Mr G can't quite make it and bales. Damn good go at it. Oh, and the guide wasn't riding one-footed after all. Finally ran out of snow to ride and walked the last few metres into the village of Ste Foy chef lieu (think so anyway). Who came along to pick us up? Our favourite grumpy driver! And his day had got even worse since!
Long journey back over to Les Arcs and Alain was ready to chuck us all into bed pretty early. What a day. Sainte Foy is definitely THE ONE! 
Even if it is a bit of a mission to get to: bus, funicular, bus, minibus, walk followed by walk, minibus, taxi, funicular and bus back!
All the photos are here.
Brothers - I salute you!
Read more in Part Four
What happened before this?