Here I am, sitting on my balcony, pondering life. It’s my last day after four weeks in Morillon. It’s 26 degrees today. I feel the sun warming my skin, feeding me new energy. I look out at the mountains where some paragliders play in the sky. From this vantage point there is barely any snow left to see. And yet I had the most beautiful last two days on the slopes. All I can think is: I don’t want to go home.
I’ve come to love this place for so many reasons. My little studio has started to feel like home. And, I don’t even miss Berlin or any of my usual activities. I have plenty here to keep me entertained. When I arrived in early March I was a bit shocked and slightly worried. There seemed to be less snow than when I left in January, rather than more! One of the runs, where I had a lot of fun on a January powder day, was closed and wouldn’t open again for the rest of the season. Only the little green slope was open to return from the top of the chairlift to Les Esserts at 1100m. And after two weeks it had to close because the slope was turning more and more into a, very muddy, hiking trail.
So for a big part of my time here I had to not only take the gondola down from Les Esserts, but also take the chairlift down from the top, because it wasn’t possible to safely ski to Les Esserts anymore. Thankfully mother nature decided to dump some snow on us towards the end of March and even in April. One particularly fun day was the Thursday before Easter. It was raining in the valley, which does not particularly make me want to get outside to ski. But I knew it was snowing higher up. So I worked on my master thesis for a couple of hours and when the rain lessened I geared up and walked to the gondola. I had the perfect timing! It was still cloudy up the mountain, so the visibility was not that great, but there were very few people. The first run I took was covered in 15cm of nearly untouched snow. I started giggling like a little kid. Sure, it was a bit of an adjustment to ski powder again, but how exhilarating! I just kept skiing around Morillon because it was perfect. And just when you think you have the perfect day, the sun breaks through the clouds and things get even more perfect! With more visibility I skied to other parts of the resort. The black bumpy run in Les Carroz, that had been closed for a few days already, was opened again and it was hilarious. So much fun! I couldn’t believe my luck.
Despite some big dumps of snow, the pistes got smaller and smaller in the area of the four villages. So towards the end I mainly skied to Flaine, where the slopes looked much whiter and had a few less rocks in them. After Easter, Morillon was completely closed, so a bus took me to Samoëns, from where I could easily ski to Flaine. Some days were great, others were rainy, cold and cloudy. But my last two days could not have been more perfect. Yesterday I spent a long morning and early afternoon on the slopes. The snow was grippy and I felt so good. It was over 20 degrees in the valley though, so even up top it got warm and the snow got pretty sticky after 1pm. Time to ski back and head home for some lunch. But this wasn’t the end of the day. In my summer dress I took the bus back to Samoëns again and walked through the cute town center. There are way more shops there, so I picked up some souvenirs. I bought a little cake that I ate sitting by the lake. Then I walked back to Morillon through the forest. The day got topped off with a hamburger from the tiny food truck in Verchaix. I just felt so happy.
It’s not just the skiing. It’s the environment, the calm, the fresh air, the walks, the views. My body and mind were craving this and I haven’t had enough. I met a couple of great people who made me think. Thoughts I had started anyway, but amplified by this place and the experiences I’ve had here. I don’t know where my life will take me after finishing my master, but I’m pretty sure it won’t stay as it is. I’ve made great progress to my thesis during my time here and the finish line becomes less and less blurry. So I guess that future is coming nearer too. I’ll have more space to think and draw up a plan for what’s coming next. For now, I’ll start packing and will reluctantly hop on the bus tomorrow. I wonder what my real home feels like.
