It’s funny how you can forget just how much you love something. I’ve taken ski holidays for several years now and two years ago I spent 6 weeks working remotely in a small mountain town in France. But last year I was in South America and didn’t ski. Interestingly, my urge to ski was lower this year. Maybe it’s because of all the stress about starting to freelance. Maybe it was because I was scared to spend so much money when I don’t even know for sure if I will have enough income to pay my rent. My home became my comfort zone, a place where I could prepare for the work I know I’ll be doing. There is so much trip research, systems to get familiar with and navigating the rules, applications and procedures. Although the back of my brain felt sad about not skiing, I couldn’t commit to booking the trip until quite last minute. But I booked.
Ever since my first visit to Serre Chevalier in 2023, I’ve wanted to come back. I loved that place. It’s a resort in the French Alps that still feels authentic, with cute villages and 200km of amazing slopes. The UCPA center I was staying in is super comfortable and I knew that I didn’t have to worry about a thing. Well, apart from not hurting myself. It suddenly hit me that if I were to break a leg, or even an arm, my freelance journey would be postponed and I wouldn’t have an income for however long the recovery time would be. It didn’t help that a woman I was talking to on Sunday night showed up with a knee brace the next day. Someone had skied into her…
On Sunday I skied alone. On my first runs I felt like Bambi, finding my way on skis again. Finding the position to turn and be in control. The snow conditions were perfect. In the two days before there’d been some fresh snow and this day the sky was blue, giving me a perfect visibility of any bumps in the snow. I got my ski legs back in no time and focused on slow, controlled turns of different diameters. I stayed in the Villeneuve area and got reacquainted with one of my favorite runs Pylones. I was not totally convinced yet of my placement in the expert-group for the next day, but at least I was enjoying the peace of the mountains. It really is a different world, where you offload your worries on top of the mountain and race down for them not to catch up.
The next day I met my group. The night before I’d randomly been included in a board game and through that met two people of my group. In the morning I was happy to see one other woman amongst the men. My worries left me, at least partially, when I saw everyone ski. None of us was truly an expert, but we all managed well. The thing is that the male experts are often just faster and have no limits, but do it, regardless of their technique. I noticed that us women were more in our heads, doubting our ability or getting scared, although we’re perfectly capable of doing difficult pistes. During the day some other people joined us from the lower group and we ended up being 11 people and our amazing instructor Thomas.
Thomas had a plan, carving large turns would slowly make way for short turns later in the week. In between we did some other things, like go down the ski cross or find bumpy black slopes. The most challenging one for me was Cibouit, a black slope with what seemed like huge moguls. My head told me I couldn’t. When I saw someone else hesitate, I started hesitating as well. But once I was on them, I was surprised of the control I had and that it wasn’t as scary as it had been before. Another time we went into what Thomas called the W, a kind of natural W-shape just off the piste. The snow conditions there were a bit random, with chunky snowballs and patches of heavy powder. The guy in front of me crashed into one of those patches and I got completely blocked. It took me a while, but I found another route into the halfpipe-shaped terrain. This is the one place where I still don’t feel comfortable, heavy off-piste snow where I feel my skis don’t turn how I want them to.
I love how far I’ve come since learning to ski in Australia. We did short turns practice. Something I was convinced I sucked at. The drills we did on steep slopes went perfectly and because of the good snow conditions I dared to commit. It went so much better than I’d hoped. Even in carving turns I gained confidence and I found that place of peace in my head again. I got some feedback to take into the next season. I love that skiing keeps challenging you if you look for it. I love the freedom I feel in the mountains. I love how it connects people. I immediately started doubting my life again. Should I move to the mountains?
