She was from Cape Town – a beautiful blonde with blue eyes and hair that swept down her back in tangled golden folds.

A Boer, from tBlonde Girl in the Snowhe old ones too. A girl that knew about the bush and Africa and whispered silken thoughts to me in Afrikaans.

I had a two week break from my job in Saudi Arabia for rest and recreation so I put a pin the world map of Europe by chance and decided that is where I will go.

I flew direct from Dhahran to Geneva. All I took with me was a little backpack with a couple of T-shirts and my washroom stuff in it, and I was wearing jeans and a tropical khaki shirt.

When I arrived in Switzerland it was so cold that I went to the first shop I could find to buy ski gear and all the clothes I needed to stay warm. Paid for the lot and then changed into my new kit. What a wonderful feeling.

I caught the train up through beautiful mountains in the snow to Davos and booked into an hotel; those ones that Heidi would stayed at in her day, that in the Spring had views of deep green valleys and cows grazing with large bells around their necks.

I met her early on the slopes one morning. We were doing a skiing course together.

We both fell many times going down the mountain and we picked each other up from our spills. We laughed together in the snow, and somehow we realised that we that we had fallen in love. And then we kissed to say “I am happy”.

Well, you could say infatuation but I don’t believe in that. You love or don’t at all.

That same day and night we made love in my hotel room. She had to leave the next day to go back to South Africa. I took her out for dinner that night to a wonderful restaurant near to the hotel and we ate beef fondue from a bubbling cauldron, chased down with French red wine and local shnaptz.

I said goodbye to her early the following morning outside the hotel. She was glowing, her face a beautiful smile.

We kissed for a long time on the pavement as snow-flakes fell on us; and then she had to go.

She didn’t walk away; she skipped, just like a five year old child. When I remember that moment my heart fills with joy.

I wish I could meet that Boer girl again but it is too late now. She had so much spirit; and loved all animals in the way that I do too.

We were a perfect match, and I will always think of her running wild among the leopards and the elephants on her long bronzed legs; the smell of Africa, and dawns beyond my dreams.

They loved her too.

I can’t forget.

. . . .