When I was growing up I was jealous of my cousins for two reasons. Firstly, my uncle was a sales rep for Cadbury so visiting their home felt like popping in to Willy Wonkas - there was confectionary everywhere. Secondly, they went to the snow every year.See, in Australia, snow is an almost mythical beast. It seems foreign because for most of us it's soooo far away, so expensive and, seemingly, for the affluent few.
So when we decided to go to the snow a few years ago I was thrilled that my daughter would get a chance to see the pretty white stuff close up.
On the two occasions I did visit the snow as a youth I didn't get a chance to ski, but went on a toboggan, in a pair of tracksuit pants sprayed with waterproofing spray - imagine how well that worked...
We went down for a magical week in 2006 and were on the snow for my birthday - which happily coincided with the friday night ride and a fireworks display. Woo hoo! I also snowboarded which was a damned fine activity. Our gal was six and had the time of her life. Every day she went to the Milo Kids Club and would do activities interspersed with skiing and eating. I wasn't sure how she'd react, but she adored it. The first time I looked up and saw her sitting on the chair lift, little skis on her feet, beside two total strangers, my heart welled up. Next thing I knew I heard "Hi Mama" and watched her weave her way down the slope looking like a seasoned skiier. I, of course, spent half the time on my butt, the other half flat on my face. But a schnapps at the end of the day cured all ills.
We haven't been back again, since my husband had a knee reconstruction, but next winter I'd love to sneak back down again. Snow angels, snow men, the first sight of falling snow, all of these make for some pretty spesh memories.
I love a good family holiday - and every single one of ours has spawned some glorious memories. I'll never forget the way my breath caught when I first spied the Eiffel Tower and the sheer joy I experienced just being in Paris. A trip to Italy with my sister- and brother-in-law and our two nieces was unforgettable. Venice, was, as expected, utterly magical, Rome, bellisimo, but it was on the trip to Tuscany where I experienced pure joy. We'd been out to dinner at a glorious restaurant where I tasted my first black truffle {mmmm} and the meal was concluded with a frosty glass of limoncello {double mmmmmmm}. As we left the restaurant and walked down the slope to our Fiat, I noticed dancing, flickering lights that I realised were fireflies. Fireflies!! I'd spent my childhood enchanted by the notion of fireflies, and to actually see them in real life was a life-enhancing moment.
Staying in a Chateaux complete with turrets and centuries worth of family heirlooms in the Dordogne in South West France was beyond divine. Tasting teeny strawberries the size of a pinky fingernail at the moments will never be forgotten. My heart always remains in France.
But I don't need grandeur to make a holiday memorable. Each year we take my husband's parents away for a few days: to the Blue Mountains, or the Southern Highlands. We'll stay in a house together and just potter around and it's just lovely. I love how our daughter gets to spend this one-on-one time with her grandparents and I like sharing the holiday experience with them. We're headed off to Mudgee with them next month for four days and I know we'll have a fabulous time there too {and we'll get to load up the boot with wine and gourmet goodies}
i have never seen the snow - i moved to orange for a year - as it snows there and nope. the year i was there nada.
ReplyDeletenice post xx
It's amazing - particularly up close, as it's falling - each snowdrop is actually different and a unique snowdrop shape. Highly recommended.
ReplyDeleteBut at least you were in good wine country with Orange {see, I can turn everything back to alcohol...}
I assume that snow is probably a hell of a lot more awesome for people who don't deal with it for nearly 6 months a year. For those of us that do, it's nothing short of disgusting. There are some who love it (hell, people DO live in Alaska) and think its magical to live in a place like this, but I just always think of my cold, wet feet, my chapped lips, my frozen solid block of ice car, and the fact that I am the most deathly shade of white imaginable. My husband was one of those snow "lovers" once, but a las, I've brought him over to the sunny sie of life!
ReplyDeleteI saw snow when I lived in England, but it was a pretty pathetic dusting that had always melted by 9am and not enough to anything fun in. Typical that the year we moved was the year they had record falls and all got snowed in! One day I'd love to take my kids up to the mountains for a ski holiday, it sounds like so much fun.
ReplyDeletegreat post! I love how it is written with such passion and I feel like I was there!
ReplyDeleteDon't you just hate how kids pick up skiing etc so much easier than us?!
ReplyDeleteI was such a sad 24 year old seeing my first snow at a truck stop on my way from Bologna to Vienna (have no idea where exactly!).
After that I was dying to ski and went to New Zealand a few years ago.
I hope to take my kids skiing when they're young, like you I was always so jealous of school friends who had experienced it!
Great post. I feel the same: I want my kiddos to see snow and have a go at skiing, partly because I didn't. Vicarious is ok, right?!
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