Felix (a.k.a. The Magnatron) got to exercise his passport – making his first airplane trip a doozy by heading all the way to France to visit Giles’s mum and some of the dudes from London.
The flight over went pretty well (leaving aside some last-minute lost-visa-document-shenanigans). It was an overnight flight, and we got the bulkhead row seats with the built in bassinet for Felix. He was almost too big for it. The flight attendant didn’t even realize he was there: we had to flag her down to get the baby seat belt as we were just about to take off. He really was about as good as one could hope for a baby on an international flight.
We arrived in Geneva to gorgeous weather – it was even warmer there than New York. Felix got in some quality grandma time (and learned to share his blanket with the very excited Biggles), and we got in a few days of skiing (more successful for Giles than for me. I barely left the green trails, and when I did it was basically disastrous). It was incredibly warm – I didn’t wear a hat or gloves the whole time, and had to downgrade to a windbreaker instead of a jacket. Giles managed to get an awesome sunburn on his face, and I got an awesome sunburn on my scalp. His was redder, but mine was definitely sexier when it started to peel (EW). Adam broke his snowboard and Tom broke a rib. I think the only one to get through skiing unscathed was Dougal, who we also have to thank for his amazing paparazzi skills.