“A chance connection, a hike to Le Grand Rocher, and a conversation about motherhood, winter sport, identity and who gets to belong in the mountains.” I knew immediately which one was Josephine. We had never met before, but as I arrived at our meeting point in Crolles that Saturday morning, there she was wearing a bright green T-shirt with KENYA written boldly across the front. I laughed to myself as i drove towards her. She had certainly made identification easy. Although, truthfully, I probably would have recognised her anyway. When you spend enough time hiking in the French Alps as a Black African woman, you become accustomed to being one…