I put my book down and look out the window. Normally all I could see would be the blue sky delineated by the wing of the plane, but now, below us, I see the Alps. A vast range of mountains stretching off in all directions, stark grey tops covered in pristine snow that make me wish I could be there right now, riding my snowboard. Moments later a valley appears, starting somewhere under me and stretching out in a quarter circle towards the tip of the wing. The sides of the valley are a deep forest green, with lighter shades lower down, and a thin strip of grey marking the valley floor, and even a turquoise lake in the distance. As I’ve been writing this, jotting words down in a crooked style on the back page of my book, we’ve been moving further south. The snow has given way to warmer climes with the mountain shifting in various shades of green, and blue lakes, their shores lined with brick red rooftops, spreading out between the tops. The landscape gradually flattens out into a patchwork of fields and the outskirts of a big city as we come in for landing.