After almost three decades of living in London I’ve developed a brilliant habit that subverts the cold greyness: planning holidays! Sounds silly but as long as I know I can get out of the city for a bit that’s enough to keep me sane. Oh and Netflix, but that’s another story. So every few months, once I’ve saved up my days off, I go online with my boyfriend and we browse the special offers. Our last trip was to Ibiza, which was insane fun minus the brutal sunburn, so this year we thought we would try something different.
We usually spend Christmas with our families but this year a bunch of our mates, many of whom are also in long term relationships, were looking to break tradition. With our powers combined, we booked two chalets in Val D’isere and tickets to RISE festival. This guy, Bob, sorted our ski passes, gear rental, flights and transfers within a few clicks. All we had to do was get the appropriate snow attire and enough Euros to see us through til the New Year.
I think the best part about going away with your partner is if you go with other couples, especially one’s you’ve known for so long. We all get along at the best of times so we could mix things up and hang out whenever with whomever it suited. We planned an ugly sweater party for our first weekend in the snow. There was this sweet, little restaurant that looked like a proper cabin in the snow, complete with a real fireplace. A few mulled wines and a beautifully roasted meal set the tone perfectly.
Since we were going to spend most of December on the slopes I made sure to pace myself. I’ve had injuries in the past so I didn’t want to ruin our trip by getting airlifted to hospital. To be fair, the avid skiers were happy to work the slopes until, and long after, the sun went down. There was still so much to explore though so I didn’t feel guilty. An après-ski soak in the hot tub was my daily ritual, which proved crucial once RISE came around. It was madness, we partied all day and night to some heavy drum and bass. If anything, a week’s worth of skiing had somewhat prepped me for the hours dancing we did everyday. The atmosphere was electric, and we were carried along by it well into 2016.
There’s something so special about the snow that I never noticed before. You hardly notice the cold because you’re always doing something about it; whether you’re on skis, drinking mulled wine or dancing the night away. I remember how bright everything was; during the day the sun glared right back at you off the purest snow, and at night the lasers danced playfully across the mountainside. Christmas and New Year’s Eve are probably my favourite holidays of all time, but this will be a hard one to top next year.
Fancy falling in love this winter? Ask Bob where to go and tell him I sent you ;)
