I watched them disappear across the A13, over the pedestrian barriers and into their estate. From the shadows of the Alps to the shadows of the more familiar skyline of Canary Wharf. The lads had returned. The outrageously large rucksacks disappeared throught the early morning half light and they were back on their estate.
For a week we had shared a youth hostel in La Clusaz and we learnt to ski, we learnt to appreciate the top of the world. We shared food together, laughs together, frustrations together, fear together.
It was good to be there when one by one they got it. This wasn't about ski-ing, this was about sharing an experience of a life-time together.
Thanks to them all for letting me be part of it.