Engelbert sat down on another stool. 'It's amazing. The Italian way of skiing follows their quiet lifestyle closely,' He smiled broadly, the first proper beaming smile since I had laid eyes on him - all straight, white, and green. This man is a God. 'I got up late, found a big mountain, ran up the slopes until my legs gave out, slept late, ate late and started again the next day.' He addressed us all but stared at me.

His passion for the slopes is reflected in his wide smile.

I couldn't help but return his beam. 'You're good?' I asked because this was the only thing that came to...