Winter Dreams

Winter Dreams

Winter dreams

At this time of the year, my heart starts beating a little faster at the thought that I might again be able to schuss down one of the Alps’ glittering slopes.

My brain is immune to the fact that I have a 24h nettbutikk and just opened a shop, its Alpine Skiing alarm clock is on desperate buzz mode. For some people it’s the Sea, its infinite horizons, the big Blue, maybe even the sound of some captain barking orders at them in naval jargon, the empowering feeling of defying Nature and the frightening, but electrifying, knowledge that Death is a possibility.

Addicted to the Alps

For me it’s the Alps, their impossibly high peaks piercing the clouds, the smell of snow, the immaculate whiteness, and the millions of crystals sparkling like diamonds. It’s the absurdly enjoyable relationship between the horridness of the freezing and exhausting climb and the adrenaline-filled pleasure during the descent. It’s being on the top of the World eating cheese fondue one minute and down through kilometres of virgin snow the next, then through fragrant pine trees to a small stone village in the valley for a glass of home-made Genepy. All that without the bossy sailing Captain and very much with a silent, too handsome-to-look-at Ski Guide. And yes, with that empowering feeling of defying Nature and the frightening, but electrifying, knowledge that Death is a possibility.

The odds of weather disasters pumping blood through our hearts

My mind wanders as I reflect on how amazing it is that we can measure the rhythm of ancient ice blizzards on Mars and still not predict more accurately when we’re about to be reduced to the pathetic sportiness of new-born kittens by a sea or a mountain storm. On earth. Still, would Nature be so sexy up-close if it weren’t for the thrill of possible danger?

Tell me how you sleep and I’ll tell you who you are

Also, funny that the more grandiose the natural settings, the more ridiculously uncomfortable our sleeping area. Ever thought of that? Almost as if there were something rude or insulting to Nature about having an inviting bed awaiting in your tent, on your boat or at a mountain cabin.

What’s that all about?

So, you’ve just spent eight agonizing hours in a conference room in Frankfurt and sleeping in a five-star hotel bed with the softest white sheets is going to make that trip unforgettable? Je ne crois pas.

I have skied in the Alps for over fourty years. I have had days of fun I don’t think any party in Paradise, or in Hell actually, can ever match but, dear oh dear, were the nights uncomfortable. I’m not sure what was worse, the thinness of the foam mattresses, the narrowness of the bunk beds, the sheets falling and the blanket scratching or just the lack of love put into the whole bedroom concept.

Norwegian Comfort in the Alps: does it get sexier?

That was until I stayed with a Norwegian family in Verbier. That was until I was introduced to Nordic comfort and pragmatism: Why feel guilty about the whole beautiful Nature thing and punish yourself at night pretending you’re a US Marine, when you should actually give your body the best reloading experience possible so that you can take yourself a little further the next day?

This was the first time in the Alps that I slept on an obviously high quality mattress, under quality Norwegian duvet and French luxury white bed linen.

alabaster comtesse de bragelonne

Alabaster Comtesse de Bragelonne - 300TC Egyptian Cotton

Matching a perfect day with a perfect night

I haven’t quite recovered from the deliciousness of that mountain stay: Perfect days in divinely gorgeous Nature matched with Perfect nights in an exquisitely made bed.

If life is a collection of experiences, those that stick with me, are the sensorial ones and, I find that reassuring because it’s often about the small details and they’re fun to fix

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