|
In small groups or alone, everyone flew over to England. It is a long trip to the near opposite side of the planet. It feels very confusing as the climate, time zone and surroundings jerk suddenly. On a Friday the individuals all merged into a group, a team, the Australian Under 24 Women’s frisbee team. On Saturday we put on national team uniforms and started a 2 day tournament in London. It was very hot and the opposition was strong. The tournament is called the London Invite and aspires to be a limited team, high quality event for elite level competition. Through jet lag and hemisphere drag the players pushed. We had flat moments and phases of charge. The Stingrays beat good teams and finished 3rd. They were also voted the most spirited team by their opponents. It was a genuinely challenging first two days of the tour. We had to push. We did. I think it was incredibly valuable preparation for the World Championships that begin in a few days time. Playing in front of a crowd, playing in a recorded game, playing, resting then playing again. Playing against determined teams striving to win. There were thoughts and feelings, people made choices in service to the group. These are the experiences, and lessons, of the first few days of the championships and the Stingrays have already had them. We’ve pushed and now we are ready.  
0 Comments
 Usually Frisbee Worlds is held in the northern hemisphere in summer, so we train at home in winter. Weekend training camps start with cold dewy mornings, the sun ascends and it gets warm and dry, hours later the camp ends with a subtle natural ceremony that somehow feels like home.
Around 4 o’clock on Sunday, day two of a winter training camp, it ends. Players take off their cleats, there is skin missing off a hip, a small stack of frisbees balances quietly to the side, people stand together in knots and they feel a pull and a glow. Some have to rush to the airport, some are exhausted and in pain. There is talk of what happened and talk of what is next. Bodies sag and, if it’s been good, spirits glow. The natural world delivers a mirrored reflection. The winter sun sinks early and then slips in sideways above the now shadowed ground. The trees glow. The field is suddenly dark and heavy while the contrast to the surrounding trees is marked. Light and colour rising from the dimming base. Jackets are pulled on and quiet voices say words of love and pride. Camp is over, the trees glow a little longer. Reblochon is a soft washed-rind and smear-ripened French cheese made in the Alpine region of Haute-Savoie from raw cow's milk. It has its own AOC designation. Reblochon was first produced in the Thônes and Arly valleys, in the Aravis massif. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Reblochon The house we stayed in had 2 levels, the family lived upstairs, friends of their brother from Canberra were allowed to stay downstairs in the rental apartment cut into the hill. It was a wonderful house; small, timber and alpiney, perfectly nestled into it’s ski slope location in the French alps. We were very happy visiting this house. One day we walked out the back, up a step green field with fat bees and delicate flowers, through a wood and onto a mountain top. It was amazing. The English/Australian family had two young children, primary school aged, and only just young enough to be a part of the hyper elite ‘flying blue’ ski team that didn’t allow you to join unless you started skiing before you turned 6. They lived in a postcard, an hour’s drive from Mont Blanc, spoke French at school, watched The Tour roll through town in summer and were very welcoming to Dani and me 9 years ago.  One day we decided to drive over the mighty Col Des Aravis mountain ridge, past ‘milk carton perfect’ cows, along a valley, gently through a lovely village, delicately up a relentlessly steep, switch back climb with our tiny rental car hogging 48% of the tiny 2 lane road and into the village of Chamonix. Chamonix rests in the shadow of Mont Blanc, an epic ice packed mountain that caps Europe.  We took the cable car up to the fortress like visitors centre, marvelled at the stone cold heroes who ice-picked their way up there, had a hot chocolate and walked the lower half of the way down. There is a cute train that takes holiday trippers to see a glacier. Our plan was to walk down to the train and take it back to the village. We missed the last train, just. People waved at us from the departing carriage as we jogged towards the station. We looked at the glacier then trotted down to Chamonix as the sun moved towards the peaks.   To celebrate the lack of rolled ankles we ordered a huge pizza and Dani went to buy cheese from a deluxe cheese shop. The lesson from this arrangement for me was that if you send Dani into the shop, you get good stuff, but you also get home in the dark. The drive back down the tiny, dark, mountain road was super scary. But we had these delightful macarons from the macaron shop next to the deluxe cheese shop, so that was good. Back at the little alpine house with the family and the wood. We handed over a beautiful wheel of cheese to the ski team school kid, it was his birthday. “Reblochon, my favourite!” he exclaimed and scurried away to get a head start on the smear-ripened goodness.  |
AuthorHigh school teacher 
Archives
September 2023
CategoriesThemes |
RSS Feed
