TRAVEL WRITING CHALLENGE
A Winter Wonderland at the Base of the Alps
The A to Z of my favorite travel destinations

It almost isn’t a top travel destination of mine but rather a second home. It’s where I learned to walk in the snow, where I learned how to ski and how to build a snowman or an igloo.
Yes, I’ve got more than one second home. I’m home in many places of the world but there is just one favorite travel destination with the letter “B”.
Balderschwang.
The valley it is located in opens towards Austria even though it is part of Germany. You can enter it from the German side but only over a high mountain pass. Often closed during winter.


Childhood memories
In times before GPS and cell phones, I was taught how to navigate by map directing my parents to Balderschwang. A route they’d find if the Germans would remove all street signs.
Yes, the first time we drove to this tiny ski resort I wasn’t even 3 years old. And we returned for more than 25 years. To the same mountain village. We stayed for almost 20 years in the exact same holiday flat.
It’s where I went to skiing school when I was 3, 4, and 5. After that, I only went to the skiing school of my dad. Following him down the big mountain.
Every year in February we’d come here. One week of vacationing in a winter wonderland.
Being located at the northern base of the Alps, this region gets a lot of snow despite not being incredibly high in elevation. “Schneeloch,” they say in German.
We simply call it home.
Both of my grandparents have accompanied us here. My granddad used to walk with me to the skiing school. It was a little downhill path from where we stayed. I say today. For a three-year-old, it was a marathon. I had to walk to the beginning of the skiing school with my ski shoes on. Back then they were even more uncomfortable than today.
It’s probably part of why I am so resilient today. I wasn’t driven in a heated SUV. I was walking through the deep snow. My grandpa carried the skis for me. Anyhow, back then I didn’t know any better. I loved winter. The snow. And skiing. And those family holidays.
And I slept well every single night.



Changing over to the competition
I was a skier by heart. I loved skiing more than anything else and still went on this family holiday at the age of 16. But, and there comes to but. I got bored.
Balderschwang, after all, was a tiny skiing resort for a 16-year-old racing skiing girl. I knew every slope, every skiing lift, and definitely every corner in the area. I had skied where it was legal to go down and I had skied every other corner in the forest too.
And I hated snowboarders. It was just a new sport coming up and I just hated seeing them on the slopes. It’s why I decided to take a snowboarding class. I wanted to know what I hated so much about them. And why I hated snowboarding.
One day later I was taking my first class. Two hours later I was bored in class. 4 hours later I boarded down the slopes by myself.
10 years later — I never looked back.
I’m a snowboarder now.




The fastest grandma on the slopes
Yip, that's my grandma. She’s amazing. She rides the skiing slopes on her wooden sled. And she’s fast. Like really fast. And she walks back up. Every single time. By foot.
Of course, she’s careful. She rides on the edges of the slopes and only when there are no people in her way or no skiers she could hurt.
The backstory of her passion is actually quite sad. Her youngest sister, back in Romania, was six years old when she was sledding down a mountain. Some village boy had thrown a stick onto the slope. She fell off, got thrown into the air, and was badly hurt. And even though her mom was a doctor, she couldn’t save my grandma’s sister.
And I guess she’s doing it for the little girl who never got the chance to grow older. My grandma rides those slopes with so much joy.
And passion.

She’s been with us many years. In the beginning together with my grandpa. Then alone. She never slowed down. Not in winter at least.


The photography side of things
I'm not so sure about other skiing resorts but this mountain village is one of the most photogenic places I know. It's just such a winter wonderland. When it snows, it transforms into a fairytale.
The street lights go on, horse carriages run through town as the church bell rings and all sounds appear dampened. Softened by the snow.

And that is when I took out my camera and tried to capture the beauty of the moment. Even though I know, nothing can capture this moment. It is only experienced when lived.
Still, it’s my passion. The snow. And photography.

The coldest winter
2012 was the coldest winter I ever experienced. It got down to -30°C (-22°F). I was studying back then and not dependent on the school holidays. I got my grandparents from my mom’s side in January down for a week.
It was a dream for me. I was the first one on the slopes. Every morning. It was off-season, we had loads of snow and it was cold. No melting, no sweating in skiing suits, and no crowds on the slopes.
I only realized how cold it really was when my dad called from home asking if I was still feeling my toes. I didn’t get his question. He told me his colleague was in Balderschwang for a few days and came back with frostbites. Then I understood the concern.
Skiing at -30°C can certainly be dangerous.
But I was able to embrace it thanks to good clothing and countless warm-up stops in the skiing cabins.

Loads of snow in the valley
2013 was another year with a lot of snow. See below with your own eyes. It is just a tower of snow at the side of the road. I mean, where should you push all that snow from the roads? It needs to go somewhere.


More perfect photography opportunities for this passionate winter lover.


Snow-covered branches for the real winter experience.


Returning from Africa
Then something happened. In my life. I traveled to Africa and somehow never came back. At least not fully. One part of me stayed down there. In 2016 I returned. Not just to Germany but to my winter home in Balderschwang.

And I came back with a friend of mine. From Namibia. We had snow fights like little children until my mom decided it was getting too serious and we should stop fighting.
We were both in our mid-20s. It just tells you much we were in the game. And how much we loved and had missed the snow.


I didn’t just embrace another winter but got to spend some quality time with my grandma as well. On the slopes. On the sled.
Shredding down together.

Because she was still the same.
Racing down the slopes.



Me too. I was still the same as well. Not following the mainstream, turning off into the bushes.
I always loved off piste more than cruising down prepared slopes.


And by now, I also had my dream equipment together.
In my colors.
Shining across the winter wonderland.



The church bells
When I think of church bells, I think of the sound of these bells in Balderschwang.
Every 15 minutes they’d ring. From 6 am until 10 pm. I’d hear them on the slopes, depending on where on the mountain I was. And in times before cell phones, they were the reason I’d know the time.
Our holiday flat was located right next to the church. It could get loud. Like really loud. At 6 pm, when all the bells would be ringing for several minutes, you couldn’t speak through the open balcony door. But who has the door open? It’s winter.

Building countless igloo
Our holiday flat was right at the edge of town. Behind our room was the bottom of the mountain. Lots of snow for us to play in once the skiing lifts closed at 4 pm.
Then it was igloo building time.

I’ve built many igloos over the years and still love doing it.

Introducing snow to my husband
In 2017 I introduced my husband to my winter paradise. He got to see snow for the first time, and tried out snowboarding, cross country skiing, and snowshoe hiking.



We also did night skiing and went to the après ski bar. Drinking Glühwein and singing German songs. He got the full cultural experience of winter in Germany.

We did snow angels and built an igloo together.



Balderschwang remains my winter home
And even though I have missed a few winters in the last few years, now I do keep returning to Balderschwang again. I don’t need the bigger skiing areas I wanted to visit in my younger years.
I love the feeling of knowing every rock, every tree, and every turn in this place.



It feels like home.
My winter home.

This is a writing prompt response started by Sam Millichap and continued by Adrienne Beaumont. Read their stories with “B”.
“Bucharest Is Best for Buildings and Bee” and “B is for Bletchley Park”.
Here is my first response to the prompt:
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