Everyone talks about a work life balance, apparently it’s really important to keep in check, but I disagree! I want my life to be play first and work second. That being said sometimes work does have it’s perks. While living in London I was working for a Swiss Bank. Aside from sounding cool and feeling like I could one day rise to become a very evil Bond villain, working for a Swiss Bank meant getting to visit Switzerland for meetings.
The company I worked for had their headquarters in a small village two hours outside Geneva high in the Swiss Alps. This village is also home to the world’s second most expensive boarding school, clocking in at $115,000 per year!
I was visiting in early Spring at the very end of the ski season, my flight arrived in the late afternoon, and I took the train all the way around Lake Geneva enjoying watching the sunset behind the mountains and their shadows grow until they reached from one side of the lake to the other. By the time I got off the train it was dark, and I just managed to catch the very last bus which began a slow and winding journey from the valley floor up into the mountains.
When we reached the village I gathered my bags and stepped out in the cold nights air, being so high in the Alps it was well below freezing and the altitude left the air thin and unrewarding. I was promptly collected by the companies CEO an incredibly charismatic and jolly individual, he had a thick pair of classes that would have seemed almost comical if it were not for the intensely intelligent eyes that glinted behind them.
I was staying in a beautiful traditional chalet, the instant I entered I was stuck by the delicious smell of the wood, far from overpowering it was a faint lingering odor that left me feeling warm and at home. The accommodation exceeded my expectations, in the living room there was a tremendous grand piano framed by floor to ceiling glass windows.
When I awoke the next day I discovered the reason for so much glass, the view was beyond breath taking, the sun shone on the frosted mountain tops and glinted enchantingly against their peaks, it was as if I had awoken to a dream. Now here was a place where I could picture myself living.
The following two days consisted of meeting lots of new colleagues, eating delicious and wildly overpriced food and having in-depth conversations about business, life and religion. Finally the weekend arrived! I was supposed to have been flying back on Friday but after some flirtatious emails to the CEO’s secretary I managed to wrangle a return flight on Sunday evening meaning I could fit in a whole weekend on the slopes!
I rarely admit to the world how much of a lazy person I can be, but it’s my slothful side that loves skiing. In my opinion it’s the world’s most lazy sport. Hitch a lift to the top of a hill and then let gravity do all the work, throw in beautiful sunshine, breath taking backdrops and then ask yourself could life be any better?
It had been a few years since I had last been on a pair of skis, so I started cautiously, taking the first few runs slowly and seeing if my knees could handle the extra weight that an office job brings. Just like riding a bicycle skiing is a skill that you don’t forget and in no time at all my confidence had returned and I was ready to push myself. By this point the sun was high in the sky and the initially icy slopes has started to become a little slushy in the heat. I paused for a moment at the top of the run to take in the view, sometimes our planet’s natural beauty overwhelms me, five minutes of daydreaming and wonderment later I was ready to go. I pointed my ski tips town hill and took off.
Hurtling past some beginners I smiled, enjoying the thrill of my acceleration and the feeling of the wind against my face. I turned off from the main piste and took an advanced root winding around the hillside and through the forest. I crouched low speeding across the snow. It was at this point that the run became incredibly steep, nearing vertical. I felt the tendons in my legs strain under the pressure of the turns. I’d got to my personal “terminal velocity” the speed at which I am barely able to control the skis and I turn myself over to the mercy of the mountain.
Ahead is a sharp bend, I whizz around, only to be ambushed by a ski instructor and a large group of kids, ambitiously snowploughing their way down the precipice. Multiple emotions assault me simultaneously. What the hell are these kids doing on such a hard run? Is there instructor sane? Then my thoughts move to the practicality of the situation… I’m going waaaaay too fast, a split second decision is required here. Do I plough into this group of toddlers, potentially killing more than one, or do I take the emergency exit and divert off piste into the trees?
Not wishing to make the news headlines for killing the children of some Indian Prince or Middle Eastern Sheikh I take evasive action and swerve left. My body feels weightless and I soar majestically into the air like the first pig that has ever learned to fly. I lean right trying to avoid the low hanging branches, but to no avail. From behind I hear the chuckling amusement of the trust fund totting midgets as I crash through the trees and land in a large pile of stones. One ski is sticking upright while the other, with a mind of its own, races for freedom and escapes down hill.
I emerged embarrassed but luckily unscathed, picking up one ski and limping downhill to catch the other rogue one. The rest of the day was spent at a much more leisurely pace. Instead of craving speed I gave my legs a break and took in the sights revealing in the natural beauty of the Alps.
Heading down the mountain I was weary but immensely satisfied. I could feel the kiss of the days sun on my cheeks and I wistfully thought about how lucky I was to ski and how nice it would be if everyone could try this lazy sport.