The Games were full of contrasts. From a sporting perspective, the gentle gracefulness that I observed at the figure skating was offset by the full-on brutality of ice hockey brawls, while the delicate precision of curling was juxtaposed by the frantic chaos of short-track speed skating. From a geographical and cultural perspective, Livigno, which is perched high up in the Alps close to Switzerland, seemed like a giant playground for modern snow sports – geared towards those who like to twist and twirl high in the sky – while Cortina, in the Dolomites, was far more old-fashioned and populated by the traditional skiing establishment. Milan, meanwhile, featured a cluster of modernist, edge-of-town arenas, with international fans happily catching the metro to and from the events. But, in my experience, transportation wasn’t always so convenient. The huge amount of travelling between venues – I went to all but one – was exhausting and getting a late night bus over the mountains between Livigno and Bormio in a blizzard felt a bit hairy.
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I love being a parent. The thing I find most fascinating about the experience is how it throws a mirror not just on one’s own childhood, but on all of human nature. It’s an obvious point, but one that I never thought about before having kids: all newborn babies are always the same, everywhere. And then, slowly but surely, they become not the same. As cultural and family influences accumulate like sedimentary layers in these tiny personalities, you can see nurture reshaping nature in a deeply embodied, physical way.
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