In February, Gav and yourself down tools and fly to Switzerland, for a weekend's skiing in Leysin. For Gav, it is the first taste of Val and Brian's hospitality, for you, the 704th. Before you arrive, it snows and snows and snows. For a while at least, somebody up there likes you. It is a perfect few days, a beautiful chalet in a quiet resort, and you rub along together like two friends of over twenty years should. Gav is happily bemused by the empty well-covered slopes, bombing gleefully down them while you follow behind almost with your eyes closed, able to navigate from familiarity alone. Often, as you zip along, it is as though you have the resort to yourself, a glorious, almost meditative stillness broken only by the muted whirr of a lift overhead. At one point in the weekend, at the Solepraz station, you have to queue, that is, wait twenty seconds for four people in front of you. You look at each other and pretend it's a disgrace, not on, both grinning from ear to ear. Later you sit in the Top Pub, lazily decide where to have dinner, feel at peace while working your way through ruinously expensive Hoegaarden.
You had ummed and arrhed about coming, in particular because the Swiss Franc is so strong, and even with use of the chalet, it's a costly weekend. But in the end, like all the best decisions, you think - screw it, let's have some fun. Wracking your brains now, you can't think of a single time in your life when that attitude hasn't been the right one. Credit card bills are quickly paid off, while opportunities for photos like the one above are few and far between.
Meanwhile, you recover from chemotherapy. The week expires and you are yourself again. Standing in the bank queue, while H is next door ram-raiding Fat Face, from nowhere you experience a moment of absolute peace and tranquility. Depeche Mode's "Enjoy the Silence" fills the air, the chill bought about by the changing seasons makes you think of Leysin, Courchevel, Val Thorens, and you wonder if you'll ever see these places again. The cashier calls you forward, and the spell is broken, save for a daft dreamy smile on your lips.
