What a treat. Our time in Davos was fantastic. A perfectly sporty Sport Holiday.
Before departing today I got in one final XC-ski. There are miles and miles of perfectly groomed trails here with ample room for classic, skaters and walkers with or without pups. All three xc-ski days I explored different beautiful trails but today was by far the best trail discovery.
The funny thing about XC-skiing in Europe is the exact same phenomenon that struck me while biking – you are always close to a town or village. I guess that’s why Canada appeals to so many Europeans, the vastness of our wide open spaces.
But coming from the perspective of a solo adventurer, I quite appreciate knowing that the risk of getting terribly lost is greatly diminished here. One wrong turn back home and you could find yourself in a world of trouble.
I don’t as much appreciate how often you have to remove your skis to cross a road though. Just as you get into your stride, oh, another road to another town. Stop start, stop start. A little different than back home.
Venturing on skis into a gorgeous valley this morning it became evident fairly quickly that I was not alone. A pair of skiers passed me which was to be expected. One can’t keep a very good pace when stopping to take pictures around every bend. But as these spandex clad skiers swished by me I immediately realized that this was no reflection on my Nordic fitness level, which has taken a hit since moving here. The two skiers were sporting Team Canada gear from head to toe. “Looking good gentlemen, looking good!”
Turned out, all the cool kids were here to play. Group after group of Team Canada skiers passed me. My ego had no time to feel bruised by being lapped so frequently, I was bursting with pride being surrounded by what appeared to be the entire Canadian Nordic team on such a spectacular Swiss stage. It was like I was one of them, only slower, frumpier, squishier and much more out of breath. But I was out there baby!
This trip seems to have solidified the the friendship between the young cousins. The awkwardness of not being able to talk to each other has melted away now that D & H are speaking German so well. Now it’s just Manolo and I holding the awkward cards as we stammer out a few poorly constructed German sentences in hopes of communicating with the younger generation, completely mortifying our two in the process.
Our bodies couldn’t take much more of the Sport holiday. As Helena so aptly put it on the ski hill yesterday “My heart wants to keep skiing but my body wants to quit.”
I hear that! What will I do when I can no longer use the youngest child as my excuse to wimp out?
The cool thing about Davos (and perhaps other clever Swiss hills) is that you pay per run. You get a plastic card which you can load and reload with “points”. It reads at a gate each time you take the chair up. The best part is that any runs you don’t use simply carry over to another day. So great. Perfect for Helena and I.
The boys put in another full day with the Gabathuler’s while H and I practiced the art of ski-bunny lounging.
We had one non-ski day where we explored Davos a little more and did some skating. Even the dads got into the action. The photos don’t do justice to the constant litany of swears being muttered by Manolo who officially, after that afternoon, hates skating.
At the end of each day while we were unwinding back at the sanatorium, I was astounded by the view from the window. Ever promising the perfect piste, you could watch the groomers hard at work in preparation for the next day’s skiers.
We were sure sad to say goodbye to Davos today. Such a neat place. We’re sure lucky to have the opportunity to experience it.