If you’d told me a few years ago I’d be raising my daughter in the French Alps, I’d have laughed (politely), finished my coffee in Bristol, and changed the subject.

I was a homebody through and through. Rooted, routine driven, and deeply content in my comfort zone. Apart from two months living in Bath (which, let’s be honest, barely counts), I’d never lived anywhere else. Bristol was home. Full stop.

And then life, as it does, started rewriting the script.

The Sliding Door Moment That Started It All

In 2019, I met Sion. I’d warned him a relationship between Bristol and London was a bit complicated. But he said yes to the date anyway. He was healing from a bike crash at the time, so maybe he was slightly concussed, or maybe it was fate. Either way, that “yes” was one of those small sliding door moments that changed everything.

Sion had lived a very different life to mine, his twenties were spent chasing snow seasons, ski lifts, and long days in the mountains. I was living my best Bristol life: trail runs on the Downs, coffee with friends, weekends that felt like home. But somehow, we met in the middle and we built something beautiful.

When Everything Changed

In 2021, I lost my dad. My anchor. My source of wisdom, love, and quiet encouragement.

Grief doesn’t just break your heart. It shifts your entire world. It stripped everything back to the bones and forced me to really look at what mattered.

In 2022, Sion and I got married.
In 2023, we welcomed our daughter Margot, our greatest adventure yet.

For both of us, becoming parents was a dream come true. While many people see having a child as the end of freedom, we saw it as the beginning of something deeper. She didn’t limit us, she expanded us. And we knew we wanted her to grow up with space, with mountains, with curiosity stitched into the everyday.

Van Life, Big Climbs, and One Very Pink Panther

In 2024, with Margot (and our cockapoo, Thatcher) in tow, we packed up our van; The Pink Panther and set off for a European summer.

We weren’t wandering aimlessly. We had a plan.

We chased iconic climbs for Sion to cycle, and I laced up for some of Europe’s most iconic ultra races. From the Dolomites to the Pyrenees, every stop added fuel to something we hadn’t quite said out loud yet:
What if we didn’t go back?

We weren’t running away from anything. We had a life in Bristol that we loved. But we were running toward something too: more movement, more nature, more room to grow as a family.

Finding Chamonix (And Something We Didn’t Know We Needed)

We planned a week there in August. Just a taste.

But that taste? It lingered.

There was something about Chamonix that felt alive, a town built around movement, resilience, and a shared love of the outdoors.

For Sion, it was heaven. Towering climbs, snowy summits, people who chat gear ratios over croissants. For me, it was magnetic. The energy of the trails, the thrum of race season, the kind of terrain that makes you feel small and strong at the same time.

But it wasn’t just about sport. There was something deeper. The rhythm of the town felt simple but expansive, where toddlers could grow up bilingual, barefoot in the garden, surrounded by nature and people who live outside.

It didn’t feel like a place we were visiting.
It felt like a place we could belong.

Visa Rejection & One Very Small Flat in Bristol

We returned to the UK, high on mountains and possibility, and made the bold move to let out our family home, assuming we’d be cheering in the New Year under alpine skies.

But reality had other plans. Our first visa application was rejected.

What followed was a blur of paperwork, panicked logistics, and life in a tiny one-room studio flat in Bristol, Margot in a travel cot beside the bed, Thatcher underfoot, and most of our life packed into storage.

It wasn’t glamorous. It wasn’t easy. And honestly, we were exhausted.

But we tried again, this time with more paperwork, more patience, and a little apartment lined up in Chamonix to prove we were serious.

And finally… we were in!!

Life Now: Mountains, Mealtimes & Messy Magic

We live in a small chalet at the foot of the mountains. Margot goes to a French nursery and waves “bonjour” to strangers on the street. I run the trails I once only saw on race maps. Sion cycles the same climbs he once watched on TV.

We make dinner (double, always! Vegetarian for him, meat for me), we play cards after bedtime, and we walk everywhere. Our life is still full of nappies and logistics and training blocks, but the pace feels different. Lighter. More intentional.

It’s not perfect, but it’s exactly where we’re meant to be.

And This Is What You’ll Find Here

This blog is for anyone who’s ever stood on the edge of change and wondered, Could we actually do it?

Here, you’ll find:

  • The real story of moving to France post-Brexit
  • What it’s like to raise a family in the Alps
  • The beauty and brutality of training for ultras with a toddler
  • The honest truth about expat life, French culture, therapy abroad, and why trail snacks are basically a love language

Whether you’re dreaming of moving abroad, figuring out how to chase your goals alongside raising a family, or just here for the stories.. I’m so glad you’ve found this space.

Come with me.