Cue the weirdest week of my life. Daisy and I were supposed to be road tripping from Surrey to Biarritz on the French/Spanish border, which is exactly what we did. Although it didn’t quite go how we expected. Flexibility and a willingness to say “yes” were both invaluable qualities required on this trip!
Well it’s been a hectic two weeks and I don’t know quite where to start but I guess the beginning is as good a place as any. So slightly over two weeks ago my younger brother and I set off to Chamonix. Chamonix, the mountain mecca of Europe, the town below Mont Blanc, with views you’d never get bored of and a pollution problem bigger than the town. But for me Chamonix houses something slightly more important, Georgina! She’s there for the summer and invited me to visit with pals. And as i’ve learnt it’s best never to pass up these invites! So Tom, Rosie and I headed to Chamonix for the week.
This weekend my mother is racing in the European Middle Distance Triathalon Championships. Try saying that 10 times fast! And I couldn’t be more impressed. For the first time in her life she has listened to a coach and actually done what they say, with only a couple of minor blips. It seems to have paid off, she’s got to 3 days before race day uninjured and without being completely exhausted. Some people would might even suggest she’s peaking in fitness just at the right time… MADNESS I KNOW!
It’s coming up to that time of year again, birthday time! Another lap round the sun, during which a full 365 days have passed. At this point I often stop to ask myself, what have I done this year? Was it a year wasted? I’m coming up 22 now, and as my mother kindly told me “22 is kind of the age where you start thinking you have to have your shit together”. My shit still isn’t together.
Once again I find myself in the UK, more specifically the Lake District, until September. After three years of high octane excitement and constant socialising and independence, I always land with a bit of a bump and a very low budget. It’s incredibly easy to fall into the trap of becoming downtrodden and bored, however I am now a seasoned pro at avoiding this trap. So let me share with you my everyday cost free adventure guide to North West England…
Raison d’etre. Literally meaning the reason for being. What’s yours? What’s mine? I’m not sure. In one of many chair lift chats, my friend suggested that our only reason for being is to find a partner and pop out a few sprogs. His words, not mine. On a primal level yes, that is our very reason for being. But since we began surely we’re slightly more complex than that. So I asked myself the question, what is MY reason for being?
So I’m officially on my third round of “mid-season” blues and these ones are hitting harder than the previous two. I haven’t really wanted to go out, I’ve not wanted to ski (which let me tell you is highly out of character) and I’ve been spontaneously bursting into tears in the kitchen. At the moment all I want to do is go home, go to yoga and eat a salad. However, I’m not going to dwell on that. I’m going to tell you about my best days of the season. And hopefully that will help me get out of this downwards spiral! In no particular order my favourite days are:
It’s hit. The mid-season blues. Only it’s not even nearly mid-season. Although this time there is some rhyme and reason to this feeling. I’m ill, like coughing-so-bad-I-vomit ill. Our most fun guests of the season, so far, left on Sunday and now the Chalet feels super empty and a little bit lonely. Added to by the fact we have no guests this week so the Chalet is actually really quiet and I have no purpose here, apart from being ill and sneaking in a cheeky ski.
And so I’m back to my very favourite mountains. The French Alps. I’ve been here for about 3 weeks now, but I’ve been so very busy that I haven’t had time to write, or process very much for that matter. But I’ll tell you this for free, the mountains and the oceans are my favourite places to be.
So this may come off as a rant and very ungrateful of the opportunities I have been presented with, but there’s a few home truths I think should be shared. These “truths” are sometimes overlooked, with only photos telling the story. I feel qualified to dis-spell them having road tripped for nearly 3 months in the past year.