First, there is the all the stuff. Clothes for eight days, and toys (from iPad to Kindle to books and Barbies) and the ski gear. Times 4. Then there are the expectations we take with us and the ones we leave behind. We’re going to a new place, where we don’t speak the language and fumble with foreign coins. And then, there is how we carry ourselves, through the car rides, checkpoints and airports, as we fall asleep in strange rooms, and eventually, as we take a lift to stand on the side of a new mountain.
We packed light. One checked bag and one carry-on each. We took our ski boots, and left the sticks and poles behind. You can rent skis just about anywhere and the fit is easy. Boots are harder. Having a pair that fit is worth carrying their weight.
We were going to Europe, to ski in the Alps. As fancy as that sounds, we were going to Slovenia – there would be no movie stars in the lift lines, G6s parked on the tarmac or stores selling cashmere socks. St. Moritz? How hard is that? But Kranjska Gora? Whoa! Now you’re talking adventure – skiing with the locals. So we carried ourselves, two moms and their two kids, like explorers.