And now as I return to Herby Cottage for a second summer I can see the transformation clearer than ever. The Kim that lived here last year within these four walls fighting her inner demons and delving deep within herself in order to find an identity fought an almighty battle, which can still be felt within these stone walls. Her heavy heart and negative thoughts are still palpable all around me as I lay my weary head down, tired from the ski season. Self loathing and obsessive behaviours are still lurking in amongst the shadows, lingering around in the hope of latching back onto their friendly host which fed them so well last year. But this year they do not recognise her and soon decide to pack up their bags and go in search of a new host to haunt.
It has certainly been a wonderful yet confronting experience coming face to face with the two very different Kim’s that have lived within these 4 stone walls which I call home for 7 months of the year. I knew the five months spent working a ski season had changed me, but I wasn’t quite ready to witness the changes so drastically in front of my very own eyes as I walked through those doors. The contrast has been a confirmation that I have grown and become a stronger, happier, more independent woman. I feel more confident than I ever have before and now understand my capabilities, passions and strengths, which were only just beginning to dawn on me as I left Tuscany in October last year.
So, with depression and loneliness dealt with for now, I am able to admire Italy with new eyes and feel content with the knowledge that happy people surround me in every direction and know that it is a sign that I too am happy. And now I am able to get on with the art of living here in Bella Toscana Ancora.
7.22.2009
Dark Clouds Descending
Yes, this subject is very personal. Yes, it is very private, yet somehow I feel I should bring it to light. Many of us unnecessarily hide from our demons, living within a world of silence and suffering due to never seeking the refuge of a helping hand and that is why depression is still a taboo subject, even today, especially in the young. As a Naturopath I treated many patients with depression, many of them as young as 14 whom had been clinically diagnosed and consequently medicated. I hope by highlighting my own plight with my demons I can continue to help people, by simply just bringing light to it and not allowing it to continue living within the shadows.
Before I tell my tale I should firstly begin by explaining how my own naivety led me to perceive depression in the past. I wrongly believed that there was a weaker ‘type’ of person whom chose to become depressed due to their life circumstances, rather than it being an actual condition which could strike even the strongest of individuals. Judgingly, I believed it was a state of mind which you could control and free yourself of easily. I believed I possessed a happy disposition and optimism which would exclude me from the clutches of depression. I simply thought it would never happen to me. Of course I was in denial for a long time about my own depression as I couldn’t admit to myself that I had chosen it. I had allowed a victimised persona to infiltrate my life, which perpetuated a depressed and lonely state of mind within me.
I say I was in denial about my depression but rather I was conscious of its presence the whole time. I just simply couldn’t admit it to myself, which is so often the case. My self loathing thoughts and obsessive behaviours, which I can now see as the symptoms of my mild depression became a part of my life without me wanting to acknowledge their presence. They seemed to sneak in through my back door. And who knows, if they had have come knocking on my front door to announce themselves, I am not sure I would have even had the strength to turn them away anyway. I was already so battered from the storm which seemed to be following me around that I am sure I would have said “Oh Hello, self loathing, low self-esteem and obsessive behaviours, How are you? Come on in, I haven’t met you before!”
It’s when you’re lost in these woods of depression, that it can take you a while to realise that you ARE actually lost. For the longest time, you can convince yourself that you’ve just wandered a few feet off the path, and that you’ll find your way back to the trail any moment now. That you’re just having a few off days and you will resume back to your normal self any minute now. Then night falls again and again, and you still have no idea where you are and its time to admit that you have bewildered yourself so far off the path that you don’t even know from which direction the sun rises anymore. It is like being sucked into a dark tunnel where everything is tarnished a dark charcoal colour. Everything is the same yet you can’t feel the way you used to about it all. The dark clouds just seem to follow you around making everything seem darker than usual.
It still deludes me as to how I missed all the classic signs of mild depression in my own nature at the time. As a Naturopath I was well versed in looking for signs of depression in patients, but again as often is the case, admitting to oneself that they have all the classic signs of mild depression is like asking someone to pull out their own two front teeth. No one wants to put themselves through that pain just as much as they want to be labelled with depression, especially someone whom doesn’t believe it could happen to them, as was the case for me. I thought of it as having to stand on a pedestal in front of all my peers with their full attention and having to admit my own defeat and failure. Then having to stand down from that pedestal with the weight of the shame from it all on my shoulders.
Once self loathing and obsessive behaviours had slipped in my back door I knew full well I was depressed although even then I still would never admit it to myself. The very notion of admitting defeat was like admitting to myself that I had become one of those weak people and that thought alone was worse than actually believing I was depressed. I didn’t want to be weak more than anything else in the world. Even the reasoning part of my mind trying to explain to my ego that it was ‘depressed’ was enough for my ego to stamp my foot down onto the ground with force, declaring that “I was NOT depressed!” I allowed my stubborn and arrogant view of depression to form a barrier against my own plight because I was simply too proud to admit that I had become weak enough to choose it.
It was a battle which I carried around with me everywhere. The word battle, is actually quite an apt word for the way I dealt with my depression because as I have said, I was conscious of its presence constantly around me, infiltrating my personality, and halting my life causing me to become consumed by its clutches. Depression sapped all of my strength and replaced it with weaker, less attractive traits such an insecurity and low self esteem. I found I had no self discipline anymore and perspective was simply no longer a part of my vocabulary. I was struggling through life feeling lonely and inadequate. I had become completely stagnant with my own thoughts festering within me. I couldn’t make a clear decision and I felt like I was in reverse most of the time. Life tripped along like this for many months until I was able to build up enough courage to face up to my demons, letting them know full well that I was going to break free of their shackles, and I was going to do it all on my own, I didn’t want help from anyone around me. I knew it was a fight I had to take on my own and I would win even if it meant I did have to pull out my two front teeth! Loosing was not an option!
There aren’t too many people who can say that they have been able to witness their transformation as dramatically as I have. Nor gone to such drastic measures to combat their depression. I took on my depression like it was the fight of my life. I made a life changing decision to leave my homeland and begin a new life in a foreign country in the hope of being able to finally throw off its shackles. I crossed oceans and travelled tens of thousands of miles to try and finally escape my demons. I hoped that they couldn’t swim the distance or track me down in my new found life. I wanted to box them up and leave them where they had come from. Although deep within me I knew this was not going to be the case, I knew they would track me down eventually, as all demons do. I was just hoping to travel to a new place where perspective would be able to infiltrate my life and by actualising my dream of living in Italy, I would give myself enough happiness and strength to begin to fight them off properly.
As I expected, depression and loneliness did eventually track me down after only a couple of months of being in Italy. The novelty and the overwhelming excitement of such an extraordinary change in my life, the happiness in which I found from setting myself free and the strength which came with making such a decision weren’t enough to keep my familiar friends of the last 18 months at bay. They returned to reacquaint themselves with me yet again. I was feeling contented within my new scene, Italy had certainly given me the space and perspective I had longed for, but the long days spent in the company of my thoughts and the endless lonely nights allowed my two menacing friends to infiltrate my life yet again.
I wasn’t really surprised to see them, I knew they would track me down eventually, although I just wished they hadn’t have found me in such a beautiful part of the world. My haven from the rest of the world was giving me the rest I needed and already my thoughts had become clearer. I had fought off the lonely nights of insomnia and began to allow rhythm back into my body. But I knew they needed to be dealt with properly. Italy was going to become the battle ground in which I would take on these demons for good. They had followed me across oceans, thousands of miles wide, and I was not going to let them follow me around any further! Although this wasn’t going to happen without a struggle.
The lonely nights and in a place where I had I all the time in the world to sit and contemplate, I got to thinking too much and then my thoughts turned to brooding and that is when they would catch up with me. Depression and loneliness stripped me of any joy I had been carrying with me. Depression even confiscated my identity, as he always does. Then loneliness would start interrogating me, which I constantly dreaded because it could go on for hours, until I was so worn out by my thoughts that I became exhausted. Loneliness, although polite, was relentless; he always tripped me up eventually. He asked me why I thought running away to Italy like a scared little kid was going to make me happy, he asked me how I planned to go through life running away from my demons and what would become of me if I continued to live like this? Loneliness made it quite clear that I couldn’t hide from my demons anymore and that the only way forward was to find myself. To regain an identity which my demons wouldn’t be able to recognise or infiltrate.
This was obviously not as simple as a new hair cut or a new wardrobe. These demons couldn’t be fooled. Regaining my identity meant stripping away every layer, right down to the very core of myself. Characteristics of my personality, beliefs, values and morals were all examined and redefined. The inner machinery which made me tick was given a good clean out and anything I didn’t like I discarded. I discovered what a large number of factors constitute a single human being. Realising how many layers we operate on and how very many influences we receive from our minds, our bodies, our histories, our families, our cities, and our souls. I came to feel that my depression was probably some ever-shifting assortment of all those factors, and probably also included some stuff I couldn’t name or claim. So I faced the fight at every level. I assaulted myself by combing through each and every piece of myself in order to try and understand why I had allowed myself to take on that victimised persona. Why I had blamed those around me and the circumstances which had began to shape my life. It was a fairly ugly time in which I delved deep into the pits of who I am in order to redefine and re-acquaint myself with my own identity.
And as the pain poured put of me and I could feel the shackles finally becoming looser around my limbs. The endless crying began to subside. I no longer found myself curled up in the same old corner of my same old bed in tears yet again over the same old repetition of sorrowful thoughts. I found a new strength had begun to consume me. I could feel the shackles being removed and the freedom in being able to move my own body the way I wanted to again, without being hampered by the weight of those heavy shackles anymore. I was free and in control again.
When I looked in the mirror I began to like what I saw rather than look away in disgust. Self loathing was beginning to retreat out the back door. The familiarity of self confidence and independence walked straight back in the front door announcing they were home again. My obsessive behaviours were being replaced by the familiar traits of myself whom had been in hibernation, in the hope of preserving themselves from being damaged. Determination and my capable nature got to work again with my new clear decisions which were flowing from every part of my brain. It was during this time that I could feel my new identity was ready to take on the world again. I felt renewed and ready to allow fun into my life. I was craving it more than anything else. I wanted to allow my new found happiness to shine and create a world in which my happiness became so addictive and charismatic to everyone around me. I wanted more than anything to be that person that everyone would look at and instantly feel envious of for being able to shine so brightly.
Depression itself is a lonely place. It is a personal battle with oneself and without doubt the only person whom is able to make those dark clouds disappear is oneself. That is generally why when people do finally throw away those shackles they find themselves to be much stronger individuals than they ever were before. When they finally break through those dark clouds and find the sunshine again, everything seems to carry a hue which is brighter and more beautiful than before. It is quite a euphoric experience in which defines and refines an individual. It can be just as good as a good old fashioned spring cleaning or a sort out of ones wardrobe. But just like with anything, I now understand that happiness is something which needs to be worked at constantly. Retreating back to those dark thoughts and remembering those dark clouds is something which I allow to happen periodically in order to appreciate what I have now. I once prayed and asked for something to make me happy again and now I find myself continuing to be grateful and asking for it to continue, knowing full well that I hold the key to my own happiness.
Have you ever stared out into the rain?
Thought the clouds were meant for you?
Have you ever screamed out into the dark,
For these demons to disappear?
Before I tell my tale I should firstly begin by explaining how my own naivety led me to perceive depression in the past. I wrongly believed that there was a weaker ‘type’ of person whom chose to become depressed due to their life circumstances, rather than it being an actual condition which could strike even the strongest of individuals. Judgingly, I believed it was a state of mind which you could control and free yourself of easily. I believed I possessed a happy disposition and optimism which would exclude me from the clutches of depression. I simply thought it would never happen to me. Of course I was in denial for a long time about my own depression as I couldn’t admit to myself that I had chosen it. I had allowed a victimised persona to infiltrate my life, which perpetuated a depressed and lonely state of mind within me.
I say I was in denial about my depression but rather I was conscious of its presence the whole time. I just simply couldn’t admit it to myself, which is so often the case. My self loathing thoughts and obsessive behaviours, which I can now see as the symptoms of my mild depression became a part of my life without me wanting to acknowledge their presence. They seemed to sneak in through my back door. And who knows, if they had have come knocking on my front door to announce themselves, I am not sure I would have even had the strength to turn them away anyway. I was already so battered from the storm which seemed to be following me around that I am sure I would have said “Oh Hello, self loathing, low self-esteem and obsessive behaviours, How are you? Come on in, I haven’t met you before!”
It’s when you’re lost in these woods of depression, that it can take you a while to realise that you ARE actually lost. For the longest time, you can convince yourself that you’ve just wandered a few feet off the path, and that you’ll find your way back to the trail any moment now. That you’re just having a few off days and you will resume back to your normal self any minute now. Then night falls again and again, and you still have no idea where you are and its time to admit that you have bewildered yourself so far off the path that you don’t even know from which direction the sun rises anymore. It is like being sucked into a dark tunnel where everything is tarnished a dark charcoal colour. Everything is the same yet you can’t feel the way you used to about it all. The dark clouds just seem to follow you around making everything seem darker than usual.
It still deludes me as to how I missed all the classic signs of mild depression in my own nature at the time. As a Naturopath I was well versed in looking for signs of depression in patients, but again as often is the case, admitting to oneself that they have all the classic signs of mild depression is like asking someone to pull out their own two front teeth. No one wants to put themselves through that pain just as much as they want to be labelled with depression, especially someone whom doesn’t believe it could happen to them, as was the case for me. I thought of it as having to stand on a pedestal in front of all my peers with their full attention and having to admit my own defeat and failure. Then having to stand down from that pedestal with the weight of the shame from it all on my shoulders.
Once self loathing and obsessive behaviours had slipped in my back door I knew full well I was depressed although even then I still would never admit it to myself. The very notion of admitting defeat was like admitting to myself that I had become one of those weak people and that thought alone was worse than actually believing I was depressed. I didn’t want to be weak more than anything else in the world. Even the reasoning part of my mind trying to explain to my ego that it was ‘depressed’ was enough for my ego to stamp my foot down onto the ground with force, declaring that “I was NOT depressed!” I allowed my stubborn and arrogant view of depression to form a barrier against my own plight because I was simply too proud to admit that I had become weak enough to choose it.
It was a battle which I carried around with me everywhere. The word battle, is actually quite an apt word for the way I dealt with my depression because as I have said, I was conscious of its presence constantly around me, infiltrating my personality, and halting my life causing me to become consumed by its clutches. Depression sapped all of my strength and replaced it with weaker, less attractive traits such an insecurity and low self esteem. I found I had no self discipline anymore and perspective was simply no longer a part of my vocabulary. I was struggling through life feeling lonely and inadequate. I had become completely stagnant with my own thoughts festering within me. I couldn’t make a clear decision and I felt like I was in reverse most of the time. Life tripped along like this for many months until I was able to build up enough courage to face up to my demons, letting them know full well that I was going to break free of their shackles, and I was going to do it all on my own, I didn’t want help from anyone around me. I knew it was a fight I had to take on my own and I would win even if it meant I did have to pull out my two front teeth! Loosing was not an option!
There aren’t too many people who can say that they have been able to witness their transformation as dramatically as I have. Nor gone to such drastic measures to combat their depression. I took on my depression like it was the fight of my life. I made a life changing decision to leave my homeland and begin a new life in a foreign country in the hope of being able to finally throw off its shackles. I crossed oceans and travelled tens of thousands of miles to try and finally escape my demons. I hoped that they couldn’t swim the distance or track me down in my new found life. I wanted to box them up and leave them where they had come from. Although deep within me I knew this was not going to be the case, I knew they would track me down eventually, as all demons do. I was just hoping to travel to a new place where perspective would be able to infiltrate my life and by actualising my dream of living in Italy, I would give myself enough happiness and strength to begin to fight them off properly.
As I expected, depression and loneliness did eventually track me down after only a couple of months of being in Italy. The novelty and the overwhelming excitement of such an extraordinary change in my life, the happiness in which I found from setting myself free and the strength which came with making such a decision weren’t enough to keep my familiar friends of the last 18 months at bay. They returned to reacquaint themselves with me yet again. I was feeling contented within my new scene, Italy had certainly given me the space and perspective I had longed for, but the long days spent in the company of my thoughts and the endless lonely nights allowed my two menacing friends to infiltrate my life yet again.
I wasn’t really surprised to see them, I knew they would track me down eventually, although I just wished they hadn’t have found me in such a beautiful part of the world. My haven from the rest of the world was giving me the rest I needed and already my thoughts had become clearer. I had fought off the lonely nights of insomnia and began to allow rhythm back into my body. But I knew they needed to be dealt with properly. Italy was going to become the battle ground in which I would take on these demons for good. They had followed me across oceans, thousands of miles wide, and I was not going to let them follow me around any further! Although this wasn’t going to happen without a struggle.
The lonely nights and in a place where I had I all the time in the world to sit and contemplate, I got to thinking too much and then my thoughts turned to brooding and that is when they would catch up with me. Depression and loneliness stripped me of any joy I had been carrying with me. Depression even confiscated my identity, as he always does. Then loneliness would start interrogating me, which I constantly dreaded because it could go on for hours, until I was so worn out by my thoughts that I became exhausted. Loneliness, although polite, was relentless; he always tripped me up eventually. He asked me why I thought running away to Italy like a scared little kid was going to make me happy, he asked me how I planned to go through life running away from my demons and what would become of me if I continued to live like this? Loneliness made it quite clear that I couldn’t hide from my demons anymore and that the only way forward was to find myself. To regain an identity which my demons wouldn’t be able to recognise or infiltrate.
This was obviously not as simple as a new hair cut or a new wardrobe. These demons couldn’t be fooled. Regaining my identity meant stripping away every layer, right down to the very core of myself. Characteristics of my personality, beliefs, values and morals were all examined and redefined. The inner machinery which made me tick was given a good clean out and anything I didn’t like I discarded. I discovered what a large number of factors constitute a single human being. Realising how many layers we operate on and how very many influences we receive from our minds, our bodies, our histories, our families, our cities, and our souls. I came to feel that my depression was probably some ever-shifting assortment of all those factors, and probably also included some stuff I couldn’t name or claim. So I faced the fight at every level. I assaulted myself by combing through each and every piece of myself in order to try and understand why I had allowed myself to take on that victimised persona. Why I had blamed those around me and the circumstances which had began to shape my life. It was a fairly ugly time in which I delved deep into the pits of who I am in order to redefine and re-acquaint myself with my own identity.
And as the pain poured put of me and I could feel the shackles finally becoming looser around my limbs. The endless crying began to subside. I no longer found myself curled up in the same old corner of my same old bed in tears yet again over the same old repetition of sorrowful thoughts. I found a new strength had begun to consume me. I could feel the shackles being removed and the freedom in being able to move my own body the way I wanted to again, without being hampered by the weight of those heavy shackles anymore. I was free and in control again.
When I looked in the mirror I began to like what I saw rather than look away in disgust. Self loathing was beginning to retreat out the back door. The familiarity of self confidence and independence walked straight back in the front door announcing they were home again. My obsessive behaviours were being replaced by the familiar traits of myself whom had been in hibernation, in the hope of preserving themselves from being damaged. Determination and my capable nature got to work again with my new clear decisions which were flowing from every part of my brain. It was during this time that I could feel my new identity was ready to take on the world again. I felt renewed and ready to allow fun into my life. I was craving it more than anything else. I wanted to allow my new found happiness to shine and create a world in which my happiness became so addictive and charismatic to everyone around me. I wanted more than anything to be that person that everyone would look at and instantly feel envious of for being able to shine so brightly.
Depression itself is a lonely place. It is a personal battle with oneself and without doubt the only person whom is able to make those dark clouds disappear is oneself. That is generally why when people do finally throw away those shackles they find themselves to be much stronger individuals than they ever were before. When they finally break through those dark clouds and find the sunshine again, everything seems to carry a hue which is brighter and more beautiful than before. It is quite a euphoric experience in which defines and refines an individual. It can be just as good as a good old fashioned spring cleaning or a sort out of ones wardrobe. But just like with anything, I now understand that happiness is something which needs to be worked at constantly. Retreating back to those dark thoughts and remembering those dark clouds is something which I allow to happen periodically in order to appreciate what I have now. I once prayed and asked for something to make me happy again and now I find myself continuing to be grateful and asking for it to continue, knowing full well that I hold the key to my own happiness.
7.07.2009
All I have to say about Milan….
Fashion, glamour, furniture design, money, status, busy, chaotic! And an amazing Japanese restaurant!
Bella Toscana Ancora
Arriving back to Tuscany and to my simple, small stone ‘herby’ cottage everything seemed exactly as I left it. I slipped back into life at the Villa perfectly and found my spot within my little Italian family, as if my 7 month absence hadn’t existed at all.
Resuming the au pair role, Sam and I quickly reformed the bond that we had last year. He was quick to forget all about his Mum and began pulling me around the house, showing me his new toys and wanting to hold my hand wherever we went. His excitement at having me back in his life was wonderful to witness and proved that the 7 months I had spent with him last year in 2008 weren’t just lost in time but were real memories which he had formed and begun to remember again.
He is exactly the same as when I left him, although now 2 and half years of age, he hasn’t changed nearly as much as I thought he would, which is lovely. He is just craving to talk constantly and learn. He copies every word or sentence I say, which is just hilarious. Verity and I will be chatting away while driving to do the weekly shop and suddenly from the back seat of the car we hear “Oh for goodness sake!!” and quickly realise Sam has repeated something that Verity or I have said about the traffic only a few minutes previously. He certainly hasn’t lost any of his funny nature nor his impatient, stubborn temperament either!
Upon returning to the Villa, the lazy day I was dreaming of, relaxing, unpacking and sleeping off the wicked tiredness that seemed to be lapping at my feet constantly following the ski season didn’t seem to happen. I slipped straight back into the routine of changing nappy’s (yep, Sam is still wearing nappy’s, with no signs of wanting to be potty trained yet!), eating at set meal times, memorising Harvey’s school timetable and times he needed to be picked up from the bus stop, carrying tissues in the back of my pocket to wipe up Sam’s runny nose or his inevitable mess, playing children’s games, nap and milk times, and listening to Sam’s constant babble while trying to decipher his baby talk conversations with him.
Life was back to normal very quickly and the busy yet relaxed days, which I love so much at the Villa, were again part of my life for yet another summer. With the only difference being that Verity is pregnant again! She is expecting her third child in October which is very exciting for all of us. We found out the sex of the baby this week but I am not going to tell! I am going to keep you all in suspense, making you all wait till October for the announcement of a little brother or sister for Sam and Harvey to play with.
As I can hear most of you asking the question “Will she stay on for another season to look after the newborn?” Sadly I have decided to not return next year, and Verity has already begun the process of finding a replacement for my position. I have decided to take my travels to the southern hemisphere following yet another season on the ski slopes of France this winter. Like I have said, I have fallen in love with the lifestyle within the Alps and hope to be able to follow the winter from North to South and join the fun times of the slopes of New Zealand next year. I have already begun the process of finding a new position for the winter ahead here in Europe and hope to have things finalised soon with a wonderful company who run two chalets within the ski resort, Morzine in France. Stay tuned for the details…
The Rolling Hills of Toscana are a Calling…..
From France Phil and I caught a train over the beautiful French/Italian Alps and ventured to Milano for a brief few days. We decided we needed to acclimatise ourselves before we went back to our real lives within the world. We weren’t quite sure how we would feel leaving the secure bubble of Vaujany or how well we would mingle back into the reality of the real world. So the indulgent lure of Italian culture was just what we needed to sooth the senses and reacquaint ourselves back into life without snow, skiing and the familiar faces of Vaujany.
Despite the constant rain we had a great time exploring the hustle and bustle city of Milano. Eating Italian food, wondering the streets by night and indulging in good Italian gelato. I had been excited about my return to Italy and I welcomed the language, cuisine and culture change whole heartedly. I had missed Italy’s familiarity and chaotic brilliance. I let it sweep over me and I was instantly transported back to a place in my heart which holds feelings of home.
Home for the most part of 2008 had been in the beautiful rolling hills of Tuscany and I was about to begin yet another summer scorching amongst the olive trees and endless lines of grapevines there. I was returning to the same position I had taken with an English family running a 15th century Villa in the heart of the Chianti region of Tuscany. I was employed as their au pair and given the responsibility of looking after the families’ two and a half year old son, Sam.
I couldn’t wait to get back to him, to see how much he had grown and to see if he would remember me. As I boarded the train from Milano on my way to Firenze it was with such a bitter sweet feeling. I was sad to be leaving Phil. The season officially ending as I boarded the train to begin the next adventure. But the sweet knowledge and the joy I was about to witness as I arrived back with Simon, Verity, Sam and Harvey was all I could think about and helped me board the train and begin the journey back to them.
6.30.2009
The Kimba Chronicles – Volume 1 – IS HERE!
I am glad to announce that Volume 1 of the Kimba Chronicles is here for you all to read in a wonderful pdf format, which Rob has beautifully pieced together for me.
Simply click on the click below and select to download the file and enjoy….
http://www.mediafire.com/file/hz2yrkzmyhm/The Kimba Chronicles - Volume 1 - final.pdf
or you can use this link ti ISSUU which is a better and more beautiful way to view the chronicles
I have called it ‘Beyond These Skies’ because it’s exactly about that. Taking the step to go and explore what was beyond the skies I knew so well in Australia. Expanding my horizons and beginning the adventure of exploring new and exciting territories.
It’s a bit different to the writing I am doing now on this blog page, but I guess as my writing style develops, as I evolve and my perspective on things change, it will continue to evolve too. Volume one is definitely much more about the decision to leave and the experiences I went through as I begun my life in Europe. I have also added all of my personal diary entries as I feel it helps to frame exactly my emotional space at the time and allows me to express my many ups and downs that I experienced following the decision to go overseas.
I hope reading about my many experiences and adventures will help you all feel that little bit closer to me while I am away and allow you to feel as if you are all part of this journey with me. I carry all of your love, friendships and support with me everyday. They are what keep me going through the lonely and homesick times and remind me of what I have to look forward to when I do eventually come home.
I want to thank Rob for all of his hard work, late nights and beautiful insight in collaborating this pdf for me. It was completely his idea and his generous offer to do something so wonderful for me is a true testament to his friendship. So thank you once again Rob, I love it and I am sure everyone else will too.
I hope you have all enjoyed reading the blog page so far. Please stay tuned, there are plenty of adventures left in me yet!
Lots of love to you all
Kim xx
Simply click on the click below and select to download the file and enjoy….
http://www.mediafire.com/file/hz2yrkzmyhm/The Kimba Chronicles - Volume 1 - final.pdf
or you can use this link ti ISSUU which is a better and more beautiful way to view the chronicles
I have called it ‘Beyond These Skies’ because it’s exactly about that. Taking the step to go and explore what was beyond the skies I knew so well in Australia. Expanding my horizons and beginning the adventure of exploring new and exciting territories.
It’s a bit different to the writing I am doing now on this blog page, but I guess as my writing style develops, as I evolve and my perspective on things change, it will continue to evolve too. Volume one is definitely much more about the decision to leave and the experiences I went through as I begun my life in Europe. I have also added all of my personal diary entries as I feel it helps to frame exactly my emotional space at the time and allows me to express my many ups and downs that I experienced following the decision to go overseas.
I hope reading about my many experiences and adventures will help you all feel that little bit closer to me while I am away and allow you to feel as if you are all part of this journey with me. I carry all of your love, friendships and support with me everyday. They are what keep me going through the lonely and homesick times and remind me of what I have to look forward to when I do eventually come home.
I want to thank Rob for all of his hard work, late nights and beautiful insight in collaborating this pdf for me. It was completely his idea and his generous offer to do something so wonderful for me is a true testament to his friendship. So thank you once again Rob, I love it and I am sure everyone else will too.
I hope you have all enjoyed reading the blog page so far. Please stay tuned, there are plenty of adventures left in me yet!
Lots of love to you all
Kim xx
6.18.2009
The Vaujany Experience Part 17…….I am Hooked!!
I loved every minute of my time in the Alps. I am now totally hooked on the lifestyle within a ski resort and can’t wait to do as many seasons as I can, chasing the winters between the hemispheres. In those 5 short months, I can without a doubt say that I was the happiest I have ever been and I am so grateful for being able to find a lifestyle which is so suited to me. I am incredibly proud of myself and can now look back and see the steep learning curve I have come out the other side of. Teaching myself to ski and becoming a chef, cooking a 6 course meal each night for 28 people within a chalet is an incredible achievement. I now can truly say that my life has been enriched because of the decision I made to leave Australia and see the world. I now feel, more than any other time in my life, that I could do anything I put my mind to. Life has become all about the next adventure, the next experience and place to explore. I have been so lucky to be able to find one amazing experience after another. I am not sure when my luck will run out but until it does I am going to continue to find amazing people and places to experience. Life is there to be lived and I honestly can’t imagine leading my life any other way at the moment. I am hungry for more and can’t wait to see what is around the next corner for me.
The Vaujany Experience Part 16…….Kick Ski Forever in our Hearts
The Kick Ski team by the end of the season was a tight nit family. We had all been through so much and formed such incredible friendships and bonds, that when it came to say goodbye it was with great sadness. Matt, Sophie and Jack all departed on the 22nd of April and while Darren drove off down the hill and Jack had his last “woop woop!” out the window, I felt as if a part of my family were leaving me. I sat outside Franrick Lodge and cried with Phil and Wendy, trying to take stock of what had just happened. The season was truly coming to an end and I couldn’t quite bring myself to come to terms with it.
Phil and I stayed on until the 27th helping Wendy and Darren with the final closedown of Franrick Lodge. We were the last remaining seasonaires left for the 08/09 season in the village. The Ski Peak crew had all left on the 23rd and only locals remained now. Most of our goodbyes had been said and we now had the whole place to ourselves.
Darren, Wendy, Phil and I all skied for the final time on the 25th of April. The day before the lifts closed. We got on the first lift and rode right to the top of Pic Blanc just one more time. And when it was all over, my heart broke just a little bit as I handed over my beloved skis back to the ski hire boys. They had given me so much over the season. My first pair of skis had taken me to heights I had never reached on foot and had given me the time of my life. So it was with great affection and love that I accepted them back into my life when the ski hire boys returned them to my hands and said to keep them.
Rather fittingly as Phil and I took our final drive out of Vaujany towards Grenoble train station the village was blanketed by snow one last time for us. It has snowed overnight probably for one of the last times of the year and with a dusting of powder covering the mountain and village we said our goodbyes and took our final views of the place which had given us so much and become part of our lives forever.
Sadly Kick Ski will not be in operation next winter. The Global economic crisis has certainly taken its toll on small tourism operators and Kick Ski is just one the latest victims to fall. Some of the team will be returning to Vaujany and working for Ski Peak. I however have decided to chase a new challenge. I am going to go in search of a new resort to experience and some new ski terrain to explore. You will have to stay tuned to hear all about where the next adventure will take place. The job offers have been coming in thick and fast and hopefully ill have made a decision soon.
I can’t wait for winter to arrive and for the fun to begin all over again. Lets face it….If the snow never melted, we would never leave this wonderland!
6.17.2009
The Vaujany Experience Part 15……Coming to an End
As April approached and the final few weeks of the season loomed in front of us, we found almost any excuse to party! We had all had the time of our lives over the last 5 months and we all wanted it to end with one massive bang!! The owner of the Swallow bar was closing up shop at the end of the season and with it being our sole partying destination during the season we felt it deserved a rather large send off, deserving of all the great nights it had given us. Its seven year history within Vaujany would be sorely missed. We had all found a place in our hearts for it and would be sad to see Vince closing its doors.
For the final 2 weeks of the season it seemed we partied almost every night. We could always find an excuse to celebrate! Whether it was the final changeover day, the departure of the final guests, the final Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights at the swallow bar! With only the prospect of cleaning to get up for each day and the final stages of closedown to play out we made sure the tedious days events were quickly erased with copious amounts of alcohol and dancing each night, letting the fun times roll on as the season was rolling out.
6.14.2009
The Vaujany Experience Part 14…….Springs arrival
We had been spoilt with perfect conditions in January and February. Blessed with beautiful powder days with blue skies and brilliant sunshine most days. The snowfall had been exactly as we wished and skiing conditions couldn’t have been more perfect but as the days of March strode in we knew that our savoured powder days on the mountain were now becoming numbered.
As one season was coming to an end the change was palpable, as spring began to show her imminent arrival. Springs subtlety could be seen everywhere. Snow fell less often and stayed for shorter periods before melting, buds on trees could be seen emerging, marmots were now spotted on the slopes, coming out from there hibernating winter days and the many colours of spring began to paint the white canvas of winter with bright vibrant colours throughout the valleys.
Vaujanys’ locals began to bring their gardens back to life. Ploughing their fields and planting seeds in their vegetable gardens. Daffodils were everywhere and all of a sudden the valley turned a magnificent new green.
While seasonal relationships hearts were cracking with the sound of thawing ice and the onset of spring the mountain all of a sudden seemed to come to life. Waterfalls began to cascade down sheer mountain cliffs all over, which eventually found there way down through the valleys in raging torrents of water. Frozen lakes began to crack and melt and created beautiful pools of blue on the mountain.
The waterfall ‘La Fare’ which had been frozen all winter was beginning to show signs of life again. Each day the trickle of water became larger until eventually the last of the snow and ice melted away leaving La Fare to cascade down and create the loudest constant roar throughout the valley.
And as the snow melted we could see what had laid beneath what we had previously been skiing on or inspecting with a sheet of white snow. Huts and other unanimous objects began to emerge from their heavy layers of snow. And all of a sudden Vaujany felt like a different place. We had enjoyed its winter wonderland feel and now were watching in amazement as it came back to life, leaving us in awe of its beauty and able to explore, observe and witness the changes.
Unfortunately, as you would expect, the skiing conditions were quickly deteriorating on the mountain as the days became warmer and the heat of the midday sun turned all of the runs into tracks of treacherous slush, we had little motivation to get up on the mountain each day. We had become skiing snobs, turning up our noses to the poor conditions, as if the mountain was letting us down somehow. We had been so spoilt with perfect conditions that the slush only annoyed us while skiing. But who was complaining, with so much more to explore in the valley now, we kept ourselves busy with walks and treks out into the wilderness that had previously been accessed on skis.
The Vaujany Experience Part 13…….In My Element
By mid February we had hit half way and instead of talking about how much time we had left on the slopes our thoughts all of a sudden turned to realising we only had 2 full months left. We all of a sudden had that feeling that time was going too quickly and that we didn’t have that much time left. It was like being on a weeks holiday. The best days were always the first 3 days because you felt that you still had the rest of the week ahead of you. But after that thoughts always turn to having to return to normal life and having to pack up and leave. And that is what I found myself thinking about. The day I would have to leave the wonderland that I had found myself in.
I had fallen in love with the lifestyle and I just wanted more and more. I was in my element all of a sudden and I couldn’t bring myself to think about the end because I didn’t want it to. I had this overriding feeling of wanting it to go on forever, to have an endless amount of days to span out in front of me to look forward to…..
And if a jeanie had have appeared into my life during that time and handed me a lantern to wish upon, I would have wished for those days to continue forever…..
As the weeks in February rolled on, I realised I didn’t have a care in the world. I was completely encapsulated within the bubble of Vaujany and my life I had found and created within it. Gliding down a slope on my skies I marvelled at the sight of the Alps around me, the blue skies and life long friends I had made all around me. They were perfect moments. Not a day seemed to go by without one of those moments occurring. I’d stopped worrying about my abilities in my new found role as chef or having to learn how to ski. I could now do it all effortlessly and I was finally carefree and able to enjoy it all.
As I skied the mountain everyday, I came to feel as if I belonged on the mountain, in the grandeur of the Alps and the crisp mountain air. I felt as if it was all meant to be. At last I was living for each day, free as the birds and the clouds that roamed the skies and I had the land of the magnificent French Alps to thank for that.
6.09.2009
The Vaujany Experience Part 12…….Welcome to the Kick Ski Big Brother House…..The every changing Kick Ski Family!
We began the season nine strong! Two Aussies, two Welsh, one Grecian and four English. We were an eclectic bunch but by the end of the five months the Kick Ski team would be dwindled down to only seven members. With I being the lone Aussie amongst six other English! Needless to say I have been spending a lot of time with the English and I have to apologise for my ‘Aussie with a hint of added English accent!!’ which my best friend pointed out to me as we spoke on the phone. Much to my horror. You will all have to beat it out of me when I eventually come home!
So as you can see, it’s fairly obvious to see that the Kick Ski team certainly went through some changes over the five months. There were times during the season that we all felt as if there was some sort of curse that had been put on anyone wearing a kick ski polo shirt! As it was, only 3 of the employees made it all the way to end of the season and completed their contracts. And I am proud to say that I was one of them! There were times when we joked that it was like being on Big Brother……”and this week in the Big Brother house, tensions have been high, Tori has left the house leaving her boyfriend Phil behind, with the much anticipated Matt entering the house, livening things up!” It was just mad.
Our company director and owner, Darren from Lincoln in the UK began recruiting back in August 2008. I was the first employed and from then on he added Phil and Tori, a couple living in Lancaster, Sophie a horse mad West Sussex girl, Brad and Fern, a couple from Wales and Paul our Chef and a fellow Aussie. Wendy our chalet manager had already worked for Kick Ski the previous year and was returning for yet another sterling season.
It didn’t take long for the first blow to come. The first housemate to take the hit was, as I have previously written, our chef from Franrick Lodge. Paul exited the Kick Ski ranks on day eight of his five month contract. Unfortunately for Paul his cooking left much to be desired and he just didn’t fit the Kick Ski mould……Enter Kim as chef with Phil and Tori left as the remaining chalet hosts for Franrick Lodge!
The dreaded curse reared its head again on the 5th of January, my Birthday, when Brad our chalet and ski host from our other chalet, La Maitreya broke his ankle on “Le Tunnel” a deadly black run, so named because you have to enter an underground tunnel that cuts through the mountain and spits you out onto a steep mogul field the other side. Fortunately we were able to keep Brad on, he was able to have his ankle operated on in France and avoided being sent back to the UK. It was touch and go for a while, as Fern our chef in La Maitreya had decided to also leave if Brad had to be sent back to the UK for treatment. This was of course mostly out of our control and in the hands of the insurance company. Again tensions in the house were high, as we didn’t know if we would again find ourselves down another chef and two further members. We couldn’t afford to loose anymore staff. Not only were we a chalet host down in Franrick Lodge but we were also now down a chalet host in La Maitreya, due to Brad being out of action with his broken ankle, leaving just Sophie and Fern to run the chalet on their own. This was just what we needed after the manic period of Christmas and New Year weeks. We still hadn’t even felt like we had found our feet yet or begun to settle in and already life in resort was shaping up to be a minefield of disasters, one after the other.
I should probably point out at this stage that as a chalet host your required to be able to drive guests to and from the airport, be able to ski host guests three days a week on the slopes, clean rooms efficiently and help serve during breakfast and dinner services, helping the chef in anyway that is needed. It’s a big job and unfortunately not all the employed chalet hosts fitted all of these criteria. Tori unfortunately didn’t have a drivers licence and couldn’t ski host, which meant she was left to clean the chalet constantly, Brad was now obviously out of action which left Sophie to drive, clean, serve and ski host guests in our other chalet. A massive task for my gutsy, petite, 5 foot roommate. Thus we were all finding things pretty tough. I was still finding my feet within the kitchen and we were all still desperately trying to adjust to the changes happening around us and adapt and cope as best we could.
The blows were coming in quick and thick at this point as Tori decided to leave the Kick Ski Big Brother House on the 10th of January; only five days after Brad had broken his ankle. Unfortunately Tori had found the whole experience very tough and as she was spending most of her time cleaning, which she had not anticipated, she was not a happy camper, thus deciding to leave. This obviously again, made us edgy, as there was the potential that we would also loose Phil, her boyfriend as well. But Phil luckily decided to stay on and became the star chalet host within Franrick Lodge.
Enter the newest member of the team to the house. Matt joined us only a few days before Tori left. Matt, a ski mad Englishman, had just been fired from a team working in Italy (although he forgot to mention the ‘fired bit’ during his interview process) and thus joined our team, just at a time when we all needed some new blood to come and liven things up a bit. We were all in need of a break, totally exhausted and worn out emotionally and physically.
Loosing Tori was obviously a massive blow for us, especially Phil. But we soldiered on and eventually found a rhythm which seemed to work for a while. January was a relatively quiet month on the slopes and there were weeks when La Maitreya wasn’t booked with any guests at all, so we were able to go on a roster system and share the work load and savour some much needed time off. It was utter luxury to have a night off. Fern and I were obviously the luckiest as the two of us could share the cooking duties and all of a sudden I got very used to being able to relax in the evenings and explore the resort during times when I would usually be working in the kitchen.
January went by with us all being able to recuperate and finally find our feet. We skied almost everyday and partied just as much! It seemed that just as the work load decreased we upped the anti in terms of skiing and partying! January turned into a great month, but then came February….
February is notoriously busy on the slopes as it coincides with English and French school holidays and of course the best snow falls. We were back to working really long hard weeks again with both chalets at capacity. To get us through the busy period Darren employed our next newest member of the team; Jack, from Manchester. Another Englishman! Jack came into our lives and fitted into the team perfectly. He didn’t need telling what to do, he just did it. He was our resident comedian all of a sudden. He made us laugh with his many hilarious accent impersonations and jokes. He serenaded us with his guitar skills and made us all try and keep up with his drinking habits, which we all failed at miserably! I guess it’s alright for those of us who are 6 foot giants!!
So there I was, Chef with my three bitches! Phil, Matt and Jack. We all had a great time working together in Franrick Lodge. Dinner services landed up being nights filled with jokes being pulled at one another, tea towel whipping competitions, moments of choreography of silly dances that we would later taken into the swallow bar, and just the usual banter and sing-a-longs to songs which became favourites of the season. By the end of the night we were all tired from laughing so much. It came across too, as the guests always made comment about how well we all seemed to get along and how happy we were all the time. The chalet now had a great vibe and the season finally felt like it should.
And just as we had peaked and really begun to enjoy the season, the next blow came. Darren announced that redundancies would be happening in March due to poor bookings for the end of the season. It had been a tough season in terms of bookings, with the global economic crisis affecting the ski resorts and tour operators really hard. So we went from having too little staff at the beginning of the season, to eventually recovering with Matt and Jack joining the team, to then being told that we needed to reduce the numbers again. Yet more change and this time it could be any of us leaving. For most of the remaining weeks of the season, only one chalet was booked with guests. So the possibility of only needing one chef was quite high. I was seriously worried that it might be me leaving as it would make sense to get rid of a chef’s wage with only one chef needed. I was literally shaking in my boots hoping that my season wasn’t over. I was sure that if one chef had to go, it would be me, as I was sure that Darren wouldn’t make the other chef, Fern redundant. Surely not, as she was one of the original chefs employed and I was just the new recruit, pretending to be a chef!
And so redundancy procedures began. We were each interviewed at random and taken through a series of criteria which was supposed to determine our ability and contributions within the team. Criteria such as work ethic, team spirit, skills base, flexibility etc. To my absolute surprise I was praised during my interview and was apparently excelling at my job within the Alps. It came with even greater surprise that Fern, the other chef and her boyfriend, Brad were the ones to be made redundant.
So there we were, with 6 weeks left of the season to go, I was the sole remaining chef, left to take care of two kitchens and all of the food stocks. Even though Fern and I had worked closely together, each of our kitchens were our own domains. It was a huge task to try and maintain two kitchens and to keep a tab of all the stock that was in each store room. With only 6 weeks left I also had to start getting creative in the kitchen trying to use up all of the stock which had accumulated in the store rooms.
On top of these new responsibilities I was also required to train Sophie as the next in line chef. For the final busy two weeks of the season both chalets were booked to capacity for one last time. So she had to be ready to be able to cater for at least 20 people in a matter of four weeks and I had to get her there! In weeks when Franrick Lodge was empty I had to move locations and work out of La Maitreya’s kitchen, with Sophie shadowing me all the time, learning everything that I was doing. I had to teach her all of my recipes and show her how to find the rhythm of orchestrating a 6 course evening service smoothly as she would be doing it herself soon enough. Sophie was a natural cook thankfully and excelled at it. She certainly had hidden talents lurking under the surface and it was great to see her blossom in her new found role for the final two weeks of the season.
And so as the end of the season rolled in and the final guests finally drove off, those of us left standing by the side of the road, waving goodbye to the guests all took a massive breath of air and exhaled with a sigh of relief that could have been heard from the opposite side of Alpe D’Heuz. We had ridden the many unexpected ups and downs of the season and were grateful to have survived the changes and made it to the end. Phil, Sophie and I, the only original members of the Kick Ski team who had made the pilgrimage to Vaujany back in December had weathered the storm and survived the curse!
And some of us had even flourished in it. Sophie, my roommate and now fellow chef and I, had both begun the season as chalet hosts but would both be leaving with new found career paths. And with Phil and I now ready to take on the responsibility of running our own chalet, all three of us were hooked. We had become hardcore seasonaires who couldn’t wait for the winter to hurray up and return for yet more fun in the Alps! We must be mad!!
The Vaujany Experience Part 11……Social Skiing
For us seasonaires, skiing on the mountain was just as social as being in resort. Of course, there were days when you craved a day of skiing on your own with nothing but your own thoughts, your ipod plugged into your ears and your favourite runs. But the best fun had on the mountain was when we would all ski in a large pack, picking up friends along the way and people dropping off and finding their own paths back to resort. Word would go round in resort, to meet up in the snow park to watch whatever comp was happening that day, or “be on the grid at midday ready to get on the cable car, if you’re not there then you’re going to miss all the fun!”
As seasonaires we all knew the mountain so well and it became our own. We knew the best way to avoid the cues, the quickest drags, the best off piste runs and the best cliff jumps to attempt if you were feeling bold! Each day would be different on the mountain. The people you skied with changed each day, the conditions, the snow and of course where you skied. There were no two days the same, which is what made it so appealing and why you could continue to do it day in day out. There was always somewhere new to explore and as a group we could always count on stumbling along a new route or a new jump to try.
Some days on the mountain also turned into massive drinking sessions in the snow park. When a comp was organised you could guarantee there would be a group of Ski Peak and Kick Ski seasonaires situated with perfect views of the jumps where they could see the best stacks of the day and cheer on the unbelievable tricksters who momentarily swapped snow for air time!
And if the drinking didn’t start on the mountain, it was sure to start directly after back in resort. Lazy afternoons spent sitting in the sun with an après beer or two at Ski Peaks Rissou Hotel was a routine we all fell into. Without much encouragement I must add! It was a great way to hang out and relax before heading back to work for the evening. We would chat about anything and everything and just generally joke around. But mostly we chatted about our day on the mountain or the local gossip that was going around in resort that week.
Good times!
The Vaujany Experience Part 10........A Day in the Life of a Seasonaire
Don’t get me wrong; despite the skiing being our release and while I may have made most of you insanely jealous of my endless days spent skiing, there was also the work side of things. Daily life within a ski resort usually involves a mixture of strict work routines which can never be broken, long work hours spent alongside free time to get out skiing or socialising.
With the exception of my one day off a week, when I would blissfully sleep in and not even look at food if I could help it, my daily routine began at 7am every morning, when my alarm would ring into my ears, abruptly waking me from my much needed sleep. As I woke and looked out my window to the valley below and the surrounding mountains, I would quickly make an assessment of how much snow had fallen overnight thinking of the slopes that day and how good the skiing would be while calculating how long it would take to dig the minibus out of the snow. And after all of that, calculate how long I had in the shower before I had to get dressed and run out the door to the minibus so we could all drive up into the village and arrive at the chalet by 7:30am. Come to think of it, there was way too much thinking going on too early in the morning!! But that was what it was like 6 days a week for 5 months. GO GO GO! From the very minute you woke up until you decided to crawl back into your bed at whatever time you decided to inflict on yourself.
Arriving at the chalet at 7:30am and walking into the kitchen each morning, I automatically turned the oven on straight away and placed the croissants and pain chocolate that had been proving overnight in the oven, ready for the 8am arrival of the guests for their breakfast. I then quickly whipped up a cake ready to go in the oven before 8am, which is when the orders for the breakfast hot option of the day would begin to rattle around in my head. Three more scrambled eggs with smoked salmon, two orders of porridge, one without milk and two more hot waffles, one with chocolate sauce and the other with…..Oh Damn!! I don’t remember! It was chaos most mornings and from 8-9am I pretty much didn’t move from the stove as I cooked eggs in all their varying ways, waffles, pancakes, porridge, grilled mushrooms and so on, for the guests.
After 9am, when all the orders were finished and the other members of staff were clearing the dining room, washing all the dishes and cleaning the guests rooms, I got to work preparing for the meal that night, which usually involved de-boning, stuffing or marinating meats, chopping vegetables, making the desserts and having as much as I could ready to go for when I came off the slopes and got back into the kitchen. I became quite good at having everything super-prepared, which made my life in the kitchen during each dinner service very easy and stress free. I could usually finish all of my prep for the day, and have the afternoon cake out on the dining table by about 10:30am and have cleaned down the kitchen by about 11, which is when the day became my own. I was free to go skiing, back to bed, to the pub or to the pool, sauna, spa or gym to indulge in something other than skiing. Invariably as soon as we all finished our work in the chalet, we would all throw our ski gear on, grab our skis and head straight out onto the mountain for the day. Making the most of each hour on the piste. The day was ours….
And by about 4pm we would pull our tired bodies off the mountain after skiing hard all day and make our way back to the chalet, grab a quick shower and change back into our work clothes ready for the onslaught of the guests to come in from there mammoth day on the slopes. If I had to prepare a childrens dinner then I was usually back in the kitchen by about 4:30-5pm, otherwise I usually didn’t have to start work again until roughly 6pm, for the 7:30pm adults dinner service. I somehow had perfected the art of being able to prepare a 6 course dinner service into just an hour and a half!
Dinner services usually ran with either Wendy or Darren acting as the MC for the evening. Pouring the wine at the dinner table for guests and just generally adding to the atmosphere of the evening, while Phil, Matt and I looked after the kitchen and serving of the courses. At 7:30 guests would come down from their rooms and be greeted with a selection of canapés with wine. This gave the chalet hosts a good opportunity to hear all about the days events on the slopes and to generally just chat and mingle with the guests. Once the guests were seated at the table, we would serve the starter, followed by a quick palate cleanser, which gave me an extra few minutes to plate the main course after I had politely excused myself from the table and ran back into the kitchen, from eating the starter course. The main would be served, followed by a cheese board, which is very French as they prefer to eat cheese before having their sweet dessert. Following dessert Darren or Wendy would offer the guests tea, coffee or liqueurs while Phil, Matt and I got back in the kitchen. The boys got to work cleaning all the dishes and keeping the industrial dishwasher going while I gave the kitchen a thorough cleaning. Equipment, utensils, the hob, surfaces and floor all had to be spotless each night, as you would expect. We would usually be finished by about 9:30-10pm each evening. Which is when we could all relax after yet another days work in the Alps.
As if we hadn’t had enough fun for one day, as if we weren’t all tired enough, most nights we would traipse a path through the snow to Steifs Bar or the Swallow, for a game of pool and a few drinks. Well that’s if we were able to silence the sensible parts of our brains which was usually telling us to go home and get a good nights sleep. But invariably the party would begin and once it had begun, it was hard to drag yourself away and miss out on all the fun! This was when the “Ill sleep in May” statement came flying out of our mouths.
You never quite knew what to expect each time you walked through those bars doors. Some nights it would be dead quiet and you could get away with just having a game or two of pool and a few drinks catching up with friends within the village. But some nights, usually the ones when you least expected it, would turn into massive nights of mayhem and fun. Some of our best nights out were those that happened on the spare of the moment.
One of my most memorable nights out was a Thursday night when Darren, Phil and I decided to go to the swallow bar for a game of pool and a quiet drink and landed up being the only people left in the Bar when Vince, the owner decided to lock us in with him until 3 or 4 in the morning, with drinking games and dancing on tables a plenty. The notorious ‘lock in’ was to be avoided at all costs if you needed to be sober for work the next morning, but sometimes there was just no escaping them. Needless to say I was the laughing stock the next morning while trying to cook pancakes for 20 odd guests! Which is when I would swear to never do it again! But of course there was always a next time….
There were nights I would walk away from the bar and begin the 20 minute walk down the hill from the village back to our staff chalet at 5:30 in the morning knowing that I had to get to bed for at least the hour I could manage. Why did it do it to myself?!!
For some the après (partying) is the best part of the season. And without it your season just wouldn’t be the same but speaking from experience striking a balance between all the aspects of resort life is paramount. The tricky balance between work, skiing and partying is hard to find at times but totally essential for your season to be enjoyable and successful. As the consequences for neglecting or indulging in either of them can be dire.
With the exception of our changeover days on Saturdays and Thursdays when I would do the weekly shop in Grenoble, pretty much everyday existed just as I have described. Us seasonaires became creatures of habit, doing the same thing, day in day out and who could blame us for it! I know you’re all secretly jealous!
6.06.2009
The Vaujany Experience Part 9…….”Yes Chef! 5 Minutes Chef!”
If skiing was supposed to be the only challenge I thought I was going to be faced with during the ski season, I was in for the biggest shock of my life! Skiing was a piece of cake, a walk in the park compared to the challenge I was about to be faced with…..
On the same day as we were all enjoying our first day on the slopes in Alpe D’Heuz the appointed Chef for Franrick Lodge (the lodge I worked in) was being fired and driven straight to Geneva airport by Wendy, our Manager. This was obviously a massive blow for all of us. It was the right decision made for the team and the reputation of Kick Ski at the time. I had anticipated its eventuality for many days and was thankful it was still setup week and guests hadn’t arrived yet.
Within that first week of arriving in resort I had become the chef’s sous chef. I was eager to learn from a professional chef. So with my willingness to learn I took interest in the kitchen and was cooking many of the puddings and vegetarian meals on his request. Unfortunately I quickly realised that my eagerness to cook was actually hiding some of his great weaknesses as a chef. Much to my disappointment and amazement, the chef had no idea how to cook cakes or desserts, nor the imagination to come up with enjoyable vegetarian meals, let alone some other very basic elements of cooking. Of course I found this quite worrying and at night, after cleaning all day and spending many many hours awake, I would somehow stay awake until sometimes 3am in the morning trawling through recipe pages on the internet. I could see that we needed a back-up plan, in case of the eventuality that I could foresee becoming a reality. I knew I had to be ready to jump into the role, because finding a chef at this late stage, with guests literally arriving in a matter of days was not an option. I knew I would have to be the one to put my hand up for the job.
So it was no real surprise to me when I learnt that the chef had been fired. And it was in that moment that I knew what I had to do. I chatted with the other chef employed to run the kitchen in our other chalet. I talked to her about the possibility of taking on the role. Thankfully she was full of encouragement and knew that I would be perfect for the position. She had seen my cooking over the last week and had been impressed. She urged me to speak to Darren, our director and owner of the company. But first I wanted to talk it over with the rest of the team to gauge their confidence in my ability. Thankfully, they were also very supportive, so with their backing I went to Darren and said “If you are willing to give me a go, ill do it! Ill step up and become Chef!” I couldn’t believe the words coming out of my mouth. What on earth was I getting myself into? I was supposed to be having an enjoyable season working on the slopes with little to no stress involved. I wanted a job with no responsibility for once, yet here I was completely changing my season forever and beginning a new career path! I knew the amount of work involved and how it would affect my season, but it was a challenge I was willing to accept. I simply couldn’t let the opportunity slip me by. It had only been weeks earlier while I was in Devon that I had looked into becoming a chef. I had decided it was something that I wanted to pursue as a way of continuing to travel around the world. So when the opportunity arose I knew it was meant to be.
So I strapped on an apron and got into ‘MY’ kitchen! I had two days to familiarise myself in my new surroundings and set it up the way I wanted to before the first guests arrived. I didn’t get much time to develop a menu plan that I could feel somewhat confident with, so I was running by the seat of my pants!
I have always loved cooking, it has always come very naturally to me. Being brought up in an Italian family, I had developed a deep love and passion for food. I feel comfortable within a kitchen and I find cooking very relaxing and somehow therapeutic and even now after cooking for five months straight I am lucky enough to still feel like that when I am cooking. I love finding new recipes and playing around with their flavours and ingredients, making them into my own or learning a new skill in the kitchen and mastering a new dish.
So there I was, newly appointed CHEFETTE!! Promoted after only 8 days! My new role meant I had to be responsible for the smooth running of my kitchen, making sure all the staff were fed well and abided by strict food safety and hygiene requirements. My kitchen, storeroom and food stocks were all my responsibility. As was feeding the guests of the 28 person chalet, whom were counting on me to provide beautiful meals for their much anticipated once a year skiing holiday! I had to drive to Grenoble (an hour away) each week to do the weekly shop and menu plan within a strict budget.
On the cooking front, each day I had to provide a hot option as well as the usual continental breakfast spread between 8-9am, have afternoon tea, cakes and biscuits laid out in the dining room ready for the guests arrival off the slopes in the afternoon, before preparing and cooking a 2 course meal for children at 5:30pm and a 6 course evening meal for the adults at 7:30pm. And all of this was done day in day out, 6 days a week! On top of this of course, I had to provide a vegetarian option for each course each night and cater for any dietary requirements for the guests and staff. Consequently I didn’t leave the kitchen for most of December while I was finding my feet; and by my birthday on the 5th of January I had only been able to get up onto the mountain a total of 5 days! It wasn’t turning into the season I had expected, but I was loving it.
I was thoroughly enjoying the experience of cooking and being chef and although I was incredibly stressed and under intense pressure most of the time, it was only because I wanted to be the best that I could be at my new found career. I set myself high standards and wouldn’t allow myself to feel confident until I had perfected a dish. I became very focussed within the kitchen. Often going into my own little zone, trying to orchestrate and time manage the smooth running of 6 courses without a hiccup during the nightly service. At any given time I might have had 3 things going on the stove, 4 trays in the oven to worry about all while I was finalising the last of the canapés ready to go out for guests with their pre-dinner drinks. My head was constantly on overload in the kitchen, I couldn’t for a second let my mind rest. But eventually with time and practice it did calm down and I found a rhythm within the kitchen as I began to understand the ebbs and flows of how to orchestrate such a mammoth task each evening.
At the dinner service the staff and I were expected to sit and eat at the table with the guests throughout the 3 main courses, invariably this meant that I would be sitting with the guests answering their badgering questions of where I had learnt to cook or how I had landed up working in the French Alps all the way from little old town of Melbourne in Australia? All the while all I could think about were the beans boiling on the hob, hoping they were boiling by now, or the leg of lamb roasting in the oven and hoping that it wasn’t overcooking. It’s lucky that I have always been a fast eater because I found myself sitting down; eating the meal very quickly, excusing myself from the table and racing back to the kitchen to start serving the next course. It became an art I eventually landed up perfecting. Each night the menu had to be planned so that I didn’t have to be in the kitchen every minute and I could sit down at the table without having huge pauses between courses while I cooked the next course.
As Chef I had to take full responsibility for everything that came out of the kitchen and with each course I had to introduce the meal to the guests. I would stand at the top of the table once all plates had been laid in front of each and every guest and proudly introduce the dish they were about to tuck into. I always found this incredibly nerve racking. I felt like a fraud! I wasn’t a Chef but here I was pretending to be one. But as the weeks passed, my confidence grew and I was soon receiving standing ovations and wonderful praise from the guests. I would walk back into the kitchen and pinch myself, thinking, this can’t be real! This cant be my life! How did I land up here? This is just crazy! But it was real and I was doing it….somehow!
As I had just spent 7 months living in Italy in the heart of the beautiful Chianti region of Tuscany, and being of Italian/English/Australian heritage, my menu was a mixture of Asian inspired fresh Australian flavours blended with many Italian dishes with hints of English touches also. I cooked my favourite Tuscan pasta, traditional Tuscan chicken liver pate, my Nonna’s tiramisu and tomato bruschetta recipe. My pannacotta with a stunning mixed berry sauce became a common favourite as did the prosciutto with herbs wrapped pork fillet. I blended these dishes with Asian inspired Australian dishes such as 5-spice roasted duck breast with a tangy peach salsa, soy and mirin glazed salmon, or sage and butter pan-seared scallops and exotic fruit jellies with lychee puree. And as I was mostly serving to English guests I added English touches such as mustard mash, apple and rhubarb pie and of course the good old humble crumble!
Luckily I was able to source great produce. I did the weekly shop at a huge cash and carry warehouse called Metro each week. Metro had everything from a great fish mongers, a huge selection of cheeses as you would expect from being in France, as well as great dairy and meat sections. They sourced produce from all over the world, I could even get frozen New Zealand lamb, kangaroo, and any kind of sorbet you could imagine. I tried out some of the more unusual flavours such as violet, cinnamon and basil sorbets as palate cleansers as well as making my own. The fresh produce was brought in from all over the world. Fresh figs from brazil, plums, nectarines and peaches from South America, avocados and melons from Costa Rica and pomegranates and pink grapefruits from Egypt. The selection was fantastic which meant I was free to experiment as much as I liked with my menu whenever I wanted. It was such a contrast from being in Italy where ONLY seasonal produce is available.
So my confidence grew and the staff’s boredom with the same meals week in week out became apparent I began experimenting with new recipes. Researching new recipes and trying new things became a new found past time that I enjoyed and a way for me to continue to push myself. By the end of the season, having cooked for 5 months straight, 6 days a week, you could say my cooking repertoire has somewhat improved!
And with 5 months cooking experience under my belt, I am ready to take on new challenges within the kitchen. Allowing this new found career path to carve a route around the world for me for a while. Who knows, I may become a creature of the winter season, following the snow capped mountains from the northern to southern hemispheres for many years to come! Cooking my way around the world! Bring it on!!
6.05.2009
The Vaujany Experience Part 8……Creatures of the Mountain
There were many times during the season when life in resort would become too much, when you would be feeling quite down, fed up or upset by something. It’s hard to explain but within the bubble we were living in, it became very hard to get any perspective on issues, which meant that even the littlest things could get to you easily. And skiing became the only release we had. It was our escape. Once on the mountain, to me, the rest of the world didn’t exist. It was my refuge, where I could allow myself to become consumed in the grandeur of the scenery and the happiness I felt while skiing. I became a creature of the mountain, wanting to spend every waking moment on the slopes.
I remember thinking to myself, day after beautiful day on the slopes that “this is the life!” Skiing everyday and living within a ski resort almost felt like a defiance that a real world actually existed. I found myself feeling guilty that I was able to have so much fun and enjoyment from such a simple thing as skiing. The guilt as I strapped on my boots each day and made my way down the escalator to the cable car about to begin yet another day of wonderful skiing always got to me. At the back of my mind I would think about all the people all over the world working 9-5 office jobs, staring at a computer screen all day while I was spending my days on the slopes skiing with friends and having an absolute ball, resisting the clutches of the real world. What a life!.....
The Vaujany Experience Part 7…...The Great Escape
I could drive to the chalet for work in the morning and look out the window towards the mountain and only see a white blanket of cloud. Literally only being able to see the roof tops in front of me. I would stand at the window in the morning during breakfast service hoping it would clear or break at some point to give me a glimmer of hope that it was only valley cloud and that above it all, a new world existed! So as soon as I got into the cable car and started the ascent, the anticipation and hope quickly building with each meter that we climbed, hoping at any moment to break through the cloud and find a new world above it all. That moment as the cloud started to thin and the blue of the sky began to open up to us was one of the best feelings I experienced each day I went up onto the slopes. Breaking through to sunshine and clear blue skies and finding a new world above it all, was one of the most amazing experiences of the season. And once you are standing on the slopes, feeling as if you are on top of the world, you are instantly transported to a different place. I would stand on top of the mountain looking down towards where I knew our village should be and only see a blanket of fluffy white clouds, simply leaving any work hassles and life in resort behind. I was free to enjoy the beautiful sunshine reflecting off the snow and the joy of skiing.
The Vaujany Experience Part 6…….What are these two planks attached to my legs?
Undoubtedly the greatest thing about working a ski season is the skiing. If it weren’t for the skiing I don’t think any of us mad seasonaires would continue to put ourselves through the torture of the long hours, sleep deprivation and put up with the lousy pay. But the shear exhilaration, THAT thrill and joy as you glide down a piste, feeling the cold wind on your face quickly becomes utterly addictive.
As some of you know, when I arrived in Vaujany at the start of the season I had the huge pressure of having to learn how to ski within a few weeks. As part of my job I had to be able to ski host guests on the slopes 3 days a week, which meant that I had to learn quick!
I had taken some dry ski slope lessons back in Plymouth, but nothing could have prepared me for the actual event of skiing. On our 8th day since arriving in the Alps, after we had spent the previous week working ourselves into the ground, opening up the chalets, we set off to the larger resort, Alpe D’Heuz for our first day out skiing. We were all obviously excited and as we began the windy ascent up to the mammoth resort, I began to feel sick with anticipation. What was I getting myself into? I could feel the pressure of having to master a new skill building within me. I had no choice but to have to learn, and although I wanted to, I still felt that nervous anxiety at the possibility of not being any good at it, or not liking it. My mind was buzzing with thoughts of “What if I can’t do it?” What is I hurt myself, or freeze up with fear?.....my season will be over before it has even begun!”
But despite all of my thoughts and fears, I went into focussed, determined, ‘capable of doing anything Kim mode’, ready to take on the challenge and to apply myself to learn quickly. Darren, the director, had assured me that I would pick it up quickly, although I had no idea how he had qualified that statement! So there I was kitted out in my snow gear with these two planks attached to my boots, about to get onto my first chairlift. The snow was perfect; the conditions perfect, I only hoped that my day would land up being just as perfect.
Watching other skiers, glide and turn effortlessly down the piste, I was instantly transfixed and jealous of how it must feel to be able to ski so beautifully. In that very instant, I was determined to become as good as those skiers, I was going to make it my mission for the season. So off I went, full of determination and a belly full of butterflies! I glided off the chairlift in perfect snow plough formation. Bringing myself to a complete stop at the top of the piste, looking down at what was about to be my first ever run! Of course none of us knew the resort well at that point, so I went in blindly and decided to take my first run on a blue slope (one up from the green beginner runs).
I quickly found out that snow was much more slippery than the plastic on a dry ski slope and that stopping or turning on snow was a lot harder than I had anticipated. As I began my first descent, I built up too much speed and crashed spectacularly about 50 meters later. I landed in the meter deep powder off piste and lost both my skis! I was buried deep in the snow. Eventually I trudged my way out of the powder and made my way back to the piste to try again. Much to my relief my first fear had been conquered; it didn’t hurt to fall over in snow!! And so I clipped back into my skis and tried again and again and again. I eventually made it to the bottom of my first run about 30 minutes later and after about 10-15 more spectacular falls I decided to take myself off to the nursery slope! But I persevered, I wasn’t going to be beaten, giving up was not an option, and besides I was having too much fun to give up!
My day hadn’t been quite the perfect day that I had envisaged but I had learnt a lot. I had quickly developed the beginnings of a burning desire to excel at this new found sport. I learnt that the trick to skiing was to trust your skis; to use your edges and weight correctly.
Soon after that first day skiing in Alpe D’Heuz, my circumstances changed and my role within the team changed, meaning I wouldn’t need to ski host guests any longer. The initial challenge and pressure of having to learn to ski at such a rapid pace was lifted from my shoulders and I was free to learn in my own time. I was able to let my confidence build slowly without having to push myself or bluff my way through ski hosting! I now had an even bigger challenge to master, the kitchen! But more about that later….
On my second day skiing I attempted my first red run, I would have made about 100 snow plough turns on the run but I made it to the bottom and felt the sense of achievement at being able to ski into Alpe D’Heuz from Vaujany. I could now ski anywhere! Even if it was still at a snail speed pace!!
Thankfully, for my 25th Birthday, the kick ski team all pitched in and bought me a private ski lesson with an ESF instructor. I was wrapped! I had got myself to a standard where I was able to easily go down blue runs and was attempting more and more red runs each time I skied. I was still snow ploughing but I was beginning to feel out the technique of parallel turns more and more. I just needed someone to perfect them with me. So along came Pascal, my wonderful instructor, who in 2 hours turned me into a natural skier on snow! It was brilliant; I all of a sudden felt THE feeling of skiing and from that moment on, no one could stop me. I had my weight and stance corrected, I felt natural in my skis and I had discovered edges! From then on, each day out on the mountain, I explored new places and built up confidence on slopes that had become favourites. My speed was slowly picking up and I was learning at a very rapid pace. I simply couldn’t get enough of skiing.
I still remember ‘the moment’ (after I had begun skiing more confidently) of simply facing my skis straight down the piste and letting go! Allowing myself to go as fast as my skis would take me. Allowing the adrenaline to consume my fear and letting the crazy, playfulness of skiing overwhelm me. I threw my arms and poles into the air and simply looked up to the blue sky and in that moment….I was hooked! I had a smile plastered broad across my face and instantly knew that I had found something that I was going to enjoy for the rest of my life. I fell in love with the sense of freedom, the joy of being on the mountain, surrounded by endless beautiful mountain peaks. I loved the playfulness of skiing and being able to share it with like minded people who had all become friends because we all loved skiing.
To me, skiing is reckless, extreme and playful all in one. The extreme conditions and scenery, mixed with the adrenaline rush, speed and recklessness of throwing yourself head first down a mountain on snow is an incredible mixture. It brought out a playfulness in me that I hadn’t felt since I was a child. I loved the sense of freedom from the fluidity and rhythmic feel of gliding endlessly on the snow. Every day was different, the conditions, snow and visibility changed every day, every hour, and of course that only added to the excitement of it for me.
And now my new found passion for skiing seems to be creating a path for me around the world. I simply can’t wait to hit the slopes again, to continue to perfect and learn the never ending amount of techniques and types of skiing. But mostly, of course to continue to have fun existing in a world of endless days spent on the slopes.
5.29.2009
The Vaujany Experience. Part 5……”Ill Sleep In May!”
The familiar catch cry sung by all seasonaires, “Ill sleep in May!” became somewhat of a motto we all seemed to live by. The wicked tiredness that seemed to constantly lap at our feet, ready to consume us at any point if we didn’t fight it became a constant struggle. It was something to get used to, as there was no point in complaining about it, as everyone was fighting the same battle, you just got on with it and kept the image of your warm, cosy bed in May at the end of the tunnel alight. Burning the candle at both ends of the stick is inevitable during a ski season, its part of the experience and without it your season would be a fraud.
And now that May is here…thankfully. I am finally able to rest. To sleep until my heart is content with the memories of all the fun times lived, constantly with me. Bliss!
The Vaujany Experience Part 4.......Work, Ski and PARTY!!!!
When it came to night spots within Vaujany, there wasn’t much choice. We had Steif’s bar, Arsen’s café, and Ski Peaks’ the Rissou Hotel for après ski or quiet drinks after work. But our beloved Swallow Bar was the place we all marched off to every Tuesday night. We all filed through its saloon style doors to the university type bar, complete with sticky floors, toilets without locks, pool tables and arcade games! Every Tuesday night there was a band, of varying quality. And nothing would stop us from getting up on the picnic style wooden tables and have a good old boogie to shake out the cobwebs of the previous weeks work. It became our outlet and thankfully all Kick Ski staff had Wednesdays off, which meant that Tuesday nights landed up being rather messy and we were all thankful for the cold yet, sobering walk back down the hill to our staff accommodation in the wee hours of the morning.
The rival English Company in resort was Ski Peak and despite the undercurrent of the rivalry between the two companies, we formed a strong social network and became the ‘English Group’ amongst the Danish, French and Belgium groups within the Village. Part of the fun of Tuesday nights in the Swallow Bar was the guarantee that the Kick Ski crew would meet up with the ‘Ski Peakers ‘and we would all forget what company we worked for and have an awesome night together. We truly made some great friends amongst the ‘Ski Peakers’ and our season would not have been the same without their friendships.
The Vaujany Experience Part 3.......Home for 5 Months
My home away from home for 5 months was the small village of Vaujany. It is situated at the top of a beautiful valley, right next door to the much larger resort, Alpe D’Heuz. It sits at 1250 metres and has some of the best views and landscapes of the Alps, you could ever wish for. I was certainly blown away by the shear grandeur of the mountain ranges which surrounded the village and the quaint, picturesque village, complete with its original old farm buildings still intact, some dating back hundreds of years.
The resort itself is still very French. Retaining that authentic historic feel and small village essence with a true sense of community. You soon get to know the locals and become apart of the background as a seasonaire. I have made some great French friends as well as English friends whom were also working in Vaujany for the season. The rival English Company, called Ski Peak, employed loads of Australians as well, so I never felt alone amongst all the French and English!
The village, had everything you needed, complete with its own escalator system, claiming to be the longest covered escalator in Europe!! There was a great gym and pool too which was a welcome leisurely change from all the skiing and partying. I frequently used the sauna and spa for my aching legs. Or simply went to the gym or pool for a change from skiing.
To reach the slopes, we took the cable car, which could hold 160 people at full capacity. It took us straight up to the slopes in a swift few minutes, travelling from 1250 metres right up to 2800 metres at the second stage of the lift. The skiing in the Alpe D’Heuz/Vaujany area was exceptional. It hosts the longest black run in Europe, ‘Le Sarenne’, and has great open wide pistes. At its highest point, 3330 metres, we could see the tip of Mont Blanc and ski the glacier.
The chalet I worked in was called Franrick Lodge and it had prime position within the resort. Being only a 1 minute walk to the cable car and with spectacular views, facing out to the waterfall, named La Fare, which was obviously frozen during the winter and spectacularly lit up at night time. But as Spring came in, the waterfall started to flow again. Its noisy flow of water, a constant reminder of the changing seasons and the impending doom of the end of the ski season.
Our staff accommodation and other Kick Ski chalet, La Maitreya, were situated 5 minutes drive down the valley, in a small town called Le Perrier. Despite our accommodation being outside of Vaujany, we were thankful to be able to escape the village and hibernate in our very own staff chalet at times. I can honestly say that it is the best staff accommodation I have ever seen. We were well looked after. We had a lovely 3 level chalet, complete with our own balcony with views down the valley towards Allemont, as well as our own kitchen, lounge and spacious bedrooms. I shared the upstairs mezzanine area with Sophie, a lovely, if not messy English girl.
5.24.2009
The Vaujany Experience. Part 2……Living within a bubble
Having been back in Tuscany for only 3 weeks, and with the recent ski season feeling so, what’s the word, recent I guess, I am finding the task of writing about it a true struggle. It’s hard to write about such an amazing period of my life so retrospectively already. How do I begin to capture all of the many adventures, phases, ups and downs of the last 5 months? I simply can’t. I am scared I won’t do it justice. The intensity of the lifestyle which I have discovered and fallen in love with cannot be put into words. The limiting use of language cannot begin to help the reader visualise and experience what it is truly like. Only those, whom have experienced the seasonaire lifestyle and lived this intensity through their own eyes, will understand the world which I have found within a ski resort.
Maybe it has something to do with the grandeur that you are surrounded by in the Alps or the extreme alpine conditions which we are subjected to live in which make the experience of a ski season so intense. Maybe you could blame it on the sleep deprivation from partying too hard, the exhaustion of skiing everyday or the long hours spent cooking, cleaning, and pleasing the guests. I think the truth lies in all of the above, mixed in with the strong friendships and bonds which are formed by all seasonaires alike and the knowledge that time doesn’t wait for anyone. Spring will arrive and that these too short 5 months are here to be lived and not simply passed by. You quickly learn to never waste a day. When the fresh powder has fallen, we all drag our weary heads up to the slopes and find a new world above it all.
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