Courchevel, Day Eight: Coming Home

There wasn't much time to do much this morning. I was the first to get up (it's a teeth brushing thing) and I spent a few minutes on the chalet balcony, alone, watching Courchevel wake up while thinking back on the events of the past seven days. The whole thing was pretty emotional and poignant; no doubt partly due to the physically intense activity I had participated in for the past week - for a few days at least life had quite simply only been about skiing and not much else. I also realised that I would miss the chalet and people I had spent my time in Courchevel with. I was actually sad to be leaving.

The journey home was pretty uneventful as I took the opportunity to catch up on some rest. The whole week had me dreaming about the slopes, physically twitching in my sleep as unconsciously I traversed blues and greens. It was going to be difficult switching off and getting over skiing, but that's okay since I think a part of me wants the feeling to continue in whatever form it can anyway.

And as I write this I'm a still a bit sad.