We live on the coast in Portugal, where winter is mostly a rumor. It rains. That's the season.
So when we wanted Sami to see real snow, we had to drive him to it. First up Serra da Estrela, the highest mountain in mainland Portugal, where there wasn't that much of it. Then Livigno, a ski town in the Italian Alps, where there was.
In Livigno he stepped into it slowly, like he was testing whether it would hold. Then he did the thing he does at the beach. Face down, full commitment, rubbing his whole head in it the way he does in the sand.
You could see the exact second the information arrived.
Snow is wet.
Sami does not do wet. He stood up, looked at us like we had arranged this personally, and from then on treated the snow as a surface to walk on, not an experience to have.
The next morning there was a fox outside our cabin. Sami completely lost his mind. He cried, loudly, at a fox that was already gone. Miruna had the leash, thankfully. Half an hour later he was still scanning for it.
So, for the record. Snow: wet, overrated. Fox: the single most important event of the trip.
Bobby (and Sami)
P.S. He wore boots. With socks underneath. Miruna's doing. His winter wardrobe is better than mine.