Skiing: Despite living most of
my life near a beautiful ski-area, I have never skied in my life. I had an
image of skiing that included going straight down a mountain littered with
paralysis-causing trees. The nice thing about always expecting the worse is
that things usually go better than you expected. I was delighted to discover
that the beginner course had no trees, you were supposed to zig-zag down, and
that there was a way to stop. Skiing was terrifying, but also oddly relaxing
for me because I didn’t have the capacity to worry about anything except
avoiding trees and small children (who were universally better and braver than
me about skiing)
 |
 |
The ski resort: The
ski resort was right on the border between Italy and France. My roommates, all
who have been skiing since infancy, went skiing in Italy a lot, which seems
worth just to be able to casually mention that you spent the afternoon skiing in
Italy. There was a lot of posh English, German and French spoken, so it was fun
to try to imitate that. Tomas, a guy who was stuck with me for the majority of the ski-trip due to an inability to ski away, said that my accent ending up sounding like that
of a vampire, which is the nicest thing anyone has ever said about my accent.
 |
The food: We mostly ate a
ridiculous amount of cheese and bread. They take cheese very seriously here.
The grocery store had a large collection and a lot of signs telling
to ask if you have any questions about which cheese to buy for certain dishes. I
was with a French girl and two Belgian boys who wish they were French (correction: both Belgian boys are very, very, very proud of being Belgium - I apologize for misstating their preferred nationality), so it
was an hour and 100 euros later when we left with more cheese than the entire
Chinese population probably eats in a year. We, however, managed to eat it in a
week.
 |
WebRep
currentVote
noRating
noWeight
