Just arrived home from Arabba, Italy. One week with splendid weather, great skiing, shit tonnes of food, a lot of red wine, family and extended family.
I’ve shared a room with my siblings and it’s been a treat to reconnect a little. Because even though we’ve grown up together and know each other on a deep level, we seldom spend more than a couple of hours in a row together when we meet. Now we’ve caught up on our differences, our similarities, our new learnings and our changes!
Some negatives from this trip – I have blisters all around my mouth. My lens fell and crashed into million of pieces… Such an unneccessary expense.
Some snippets from our hotel:
I asked dad to go all Don Corleone on me, success!
How beautiful is mama in this photo?! 
Planning the skiing-routes.
The hotels piano-man. Felt like as if he was taken directly out of Piano Man the song. 
The Cutest of Ladies. 
Gold and wood… Gah!
One night we went on a wine-tasting in this amazing vinoteche, or Wine-Library as I’d like to call it, because every bottle of wine holds a story.
The last night Sella Ronda ski-marathon happened. Felt a bit surreal when we looked out of our hotel-window and saw these little night-fairies running up a hill with the mountains as a canvas in the background. 
Last but not least: Fabrizio, who tended to my gluten-free needs as if I were a princess and we somehow became friends without many words uttered between us. He made us laugh and hopefully I managed to give him some laughs in return…. I think this is the 7th time in my life that I get a special connection with a waiter. One time in Egypt I cried because I did not want to leave my newly-found friend.
To touch upon that, I find hotels exilhirating and sad at the same time. All these humans working there and their stories I so desperately want to find out about, knowing that I’ll only be there for a week, I feel rushed to get to know them more. I may be sentimental and overly-attached but I can’t help but get a sting in my heart knowing I might not ever get to see the people, Fabrizio for example, I connect with again. So many stories untold, at least to my ears.
Josie Mattsson 