This past weekend, a group of 12 int'l students (countries represented include Australia, Canada, US, Slovakia, Czech Republic, Scotland, Hungary, & Austria) headed east from Paris to the tiny, snow covered town of Epinal where they bundled up and snapped on the skis ...craziness ensued : )
Saturday morning I found myself, by a miracle, at the Gare de l'Est in Northern Paris by 6:30 am where half of us (group number 2 would be leaving a few hours later, lucky group number 2) stumbled on board a train and into our seats, which somehow woke us up, and we spent the next two hours chatting and laughing away, a bit to the displeasure of those seated around us. Finally arriving in Epinal, we literally stuffed all 6 of us and our baggage into one taxi-van, over the protests of the driver who was a little skeptical at our capability to fit everything, and drove through the countryside to Gerardmer. A little under an hour later, and with little circulation in our lower legs due to the aforementioned stuffing, we slipped our way down a snowy hillside and into our lovely cabin/apt. After putting things away and admiring our view of the icy lake and snowy hillsides we trudged up the mtn to get started.
Group 1 upon arrival : ) And one of the rooms in the apt
One of the joys of such a large group is the number of different experience levels. We had those who had learned to ski before they could tell their left from their right (aka Georg has been skiing since the tender age of 3), while others of us had never experienced the joy of sliding down a mountainside on small planks (myself, Jasmine, and Marissa). Those of us in the second category arranged for some lessons, unfortunately nothing was available until the next day... Therefore, the three 'debutantes' decided to simply give it a whirl, with patient coaching from the more experienced about 'pizza slices' and the manner in which to get back up, we slipped and fell around the bunny slope for the afternoon. A nice lift operator offered the best advice of all upon hearing we were new, 'restez debout', which basically means, stay up. After a bruising first day, I was a little worried about what I had gotten myself into... But after a night that included a fabulous meal (thanks Liz!), some wine, and exchanging of stories around the dinner table, the excitement was catching and I decided I might as well see it through.
The next morning dawned bright and cheery. After a breakfast of bread & cheese, we bundled up and headed up the mountain for day 2. The lessons would be in the afternoon, so Jasmine, Marissa and myself messed around the easier runs for the morning, before meeting Thiery, our ski instructor. We all expected to be yelled at in french for an hour, but were pleasantly surprised by our instructor's patience and decided he was probably from the countryside, since those from outside Paris seem to possess a bit more "long suffering". After giggling and falling (at one point I managed to fall down twice while simply standing, awaiting instruction, and Thiery, with a raised eyebrow, asked if we had been drinking, which made us laugh more) we came to a deeper understanding of how to properly curve our way down the mountainside.
After a group lunch (pictured above) the non-newbies decided they wanted to see how the amateurs had been progressing, and so it was onto the chair lift and high up the mountain for a long green run. During which some of the more experienced went down backwards snapping pictures of us struggling to stay upright. It felt a bit like a huge protective ski squad surrounding the beginners, offering advice, calming words of encouragement, and yes, occasionally laughing. The rest of the day was spent trying out the new green runs and even a blue! After a full day of snow, we headed back down for a lovely Curry dinner (thanks again to Liz) and whiled away the hours chatting, charading, and chuckling.
pre-protective ski squad run
The last day was rather bittersweet in that I was finally really enjoying skiing in a technically correct manner, exploring all the green runs and parts of a few blues (during which I managed to fall only once!), but we also had to leave...
So after a final farewell at lunchtime and cleaning up the apt, we climbed into another taxi-van (the company sent a HUGE one this time) and stumbled our way back to Paris. Upon exiting the Gare de l'Est in the evening light and being greeted by the clamor of the city (VERY different from the quiet, clean atmosphere of the mountains), we couldn't quite leave one another yet, so popped into a nearby kebab shop for dinner before finally parting ways.
Overall, an AMAZING weekend I will truly never forget. From 'fun facts with Arthur' (including the list of the oldest universities in Europe), to post-it note games after dinner, discussions about the construction of the European identity, to managing to gracefully reach the bottom of a run, I had a fabulous weekend skiiing! There is even talk of trying to put together another trip for next year : ) Its moments like these that make the year abroad so unique, and justifies the term 'exchange', in that we exchange not only our homes for another but we exchange pieces of ourselves, and I am so blessed to have been able to share an incredible weekend with such caring, fun, and fascinating individuals!
Our last day...
Thanks not only to everyone on the trip who made it amazing, but also to you who were praying for safety and security (I was a little worried about broken bones).
Much love from a rather tired and sore, but thouroughly content amateur skier xxoo
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