Photo by David Galjaard
WALTER
[ENGLISH TRANSLATION]
Hello, my name is Walter. I’m 31 years old and have been living here in Geldrop for a year and a half now. It’s a small wooden house; the site used to be a gas station.
And this right here was the service window. So yeah, it’s a really unique little house on the street. It’s great—my own place, nice and detached.
There’s some maintenance I could probably do on it. But I actually love how the weeds keep producing new flowers—ones I’ve never even seen before. I chose my skis for this.
Because I’m a huge fan of ski holidays. I love skiing; it’s an amazing feeling.
It’s my favorite place to go every year. I could easily skip other types of holidays, but I’m not giving up winter sports anytime soon.
I usually go to Austria to ski—to seek out the mountains and the snow.
It’s fun. I actually have just about the oldest skis you’ll see on the slopes. They’re Atomics—almost 25 years old now.
These are actually only the second real pair of skis I’ve ever owned. It’s a story I tell often—mostly because it adds a bit of thrill.
It goes back to the time I got caught in an avalanche. That was 15 years ago. After that, I decided to get a GoPro for the slopes, like everyone else was doing back then.
Anyway, we were at the Marmolada Glacier—a beautiful run. At the end, it’s a proper glacier, and we were doing some really nice off-piste skiing.
So, I was happily skiing off-piste. At one point, I got tired, so I lay down. My cousin, who was skiing above me, started shouting as if something was wrong.
I looked to the left. You notice how the snow rises up, and then you look down and... well, you see it. Oh, I’m the one heading down, and I can see the snow starting to fracture. So, I’m not actually stuck—though it’s very difficult to anchor yourself securely in that situation.
But fortunately, it stopped in time. That’s a relief, of course, but you’re absolutely pumped with adrenaline. You realize, "I’m not going to call in a helicopter rescue for this."
We just have to ski down. So, I crest one rise, and then I trigger an avalanche myself. It’s a truly unique experience to describe.
You find yourself in a fracture line twenty meters wide and two meters deep—a mass of snow that isn't sliding away at all. And it makes a sound—a unique sound that’s impossible to replicate.
