The Alps

It was still very early in the ski season, but since I had the opportunity, I thought I would try and ski.  I wouldn't be going just anywhere to do this either, I would go to ski in the Swiss Alps!

Living in Australia has always made skiing an expensive and difficult hobby to maintain.  It's been even harder with the knee injury and subsequent surgery.  The recent attempt at skiing in Dubai had been a nice test of the knee since the surgery.  It had been successful, so it seemed like it was now the time to increase the intensity of the testing.

It had been great staying with Zubi and his family in Bern.  He dropped me off at the train station and I started heading towards the Alps.  Of all the different ski resorts close to Bern, one of the closest happened to be Zermatt.  I had read about this place since I was a kid and most people are familiar with the unique profile of the Matterhorn (anyone who has ever eaten a Toblerone should be familiar with its shape).  I had been on a lot of incredible train rides recently, but the train ride up to Zermatt was probably the best I had ever been on in my life.  It was a slow and scenic train with big windows that covered half the roof of the carriages.  Sitting back, you could look up and see high into the mountains.

I arrived in Zermatt late in the afternoon.  The sun was setting and there was a chill in the air.  The two itself was quiet.  It was again, the very beginning of the ski season, and so the town was largely still in set up mode.  I didn't know it until I arrived, but Zermatt doesn't allow cars, so walking around the town is a relaxing activity free of any need to be careful.

It was too late in the day to go skiing, so I just wandered around the town.  It had been a while since I had experienced any real cold weather, so I was enjoying being able to breath the cold air and the chill on my skin.

The next day I headed straight up the mountain.  I was surrounded by skiers and boarders who were all chatting about how terrible the snow was, but none of this really mattered for me.  Being able to ski again after all these years was what was important to me.  I skied for most of the day and I was nothing short of terrible.  All those years away meant that my technique was gone and even basic carving was something I needed to relearn.  I didn't care at all though.  I had a great time!  Every now and again, I heard other skiers talking about how few runs were open.  It amazed me that they could complain about this.  Even with the limited runs, it was still possible for me to ski on runs that were 6 or 7 kilometres long.  These bad conditions were still twice as long as even the very best runs in perfect conditions in Australia.

As I carefully navigated myself down the slopes, every now and again I would stop and look back towards the Matterhorn.  It felt surreal to be skiing in its shadow, to be able to enjoy this experience of skiing in one of the world's great alpine locations with a backdrop this beautiful.  As I finished my day skiing, I sat in a restaurant looking out of a window at the Matterhorn.  I ordered a rosti with egg and bacon, which seemed to be the appropriate meal for the occasion.  I thought about whether to go and ski more, but before I could make the decision a huge storm started to roll in over the mountains.  The clear skies disappeared and the lifts were closed.  The skiing was over, but it had been a good day.