Tuesday, May 07, 2013

Sollocks

KA -CHING! The nine millimetre nickel-clad bullet ricocheted off the bar in front of me and vanished into the cow-bells hanging off the roof. I was getting used to them by now, this was day three of being under heavy sniper fire, I blame myself, I had committed an unpardonable sin (mea culpa), and bought myself a drink.

Several days previously I had been sitting on the toilet checking my texts (as you do) prior to advising Steve Clunes of my ETA at Gatwick to catch the 11.30 check-in. A text surfaced through my slightly foggy early a.m. consciousness, "Check-in 13.25" it said, "Bugger!" I said, tossing up between a re-pack or a trip back to the Land of Nod.

Later I met Steve at Gatwick, and marveled at his sang froid as his suitcase came in at exactly 20kg.
"What a shame you paid for that extra baggage allowance."
"*$£+!"
"You'll just have to buy something while you're there."
"*%@^!"

The flight was uneventful, so much so that I rather carelessly finished my first book, they let us into Austria, and we sought out the rep;

"Gatwick?"
"Yeah."
"OK, your luggage will be delivered outside the arrivals in the coach park."
"?"
"OK, your luggage will be delivered outside the arrivals in the coach park."
Pointing of fingers
"Yes, your luggage will be delivered outside the arrivals in the coach park."
It was, a big train of trucks full of luggage, there was a free-for-all, and we were finally reunited with our luggage..... outside the arrivals in the coach park.We felt the rep's greeting to Crystal Finest customer's should have been met with hoots of derision, but it wasn't, they were probably too exhausted after manhandling their own cases.

An hour later we arrived at Soll, and ten minutes after that at the Hotel Austria, we watched the party in front check-in and then struggle up the stairs with their cases, accompanied by much "Fecking", Steve and I, we took the lift.

In the restaurant we met with Caroline and John and a plate of beef, the beef we dispatched, and then descended to the bar, or the third circle of Hell, the one reserved for non-smokers. The stench coming off my clothes the next day taking me back to the heady fug of the upper deck of the bus on a wet December night. Caroline and I decamped for fresh air, and a look for Hettie, she of Hetty's Darkroom, according to the official map her lodgings were across the road, according to her lodgings they were next door to the hotel, she wasn't there yet, so after a few quick breaths we returned to the bar and found it full (by volume) of Scots. Nick we have already met in Finland, he was accompanied by Dave and Colin. Hettie arrives diverting Steve away from a pounding by the Scots, and moving him towards excommunication by the Pope.

Day 1. Caroline, despairing of "serious skiers" has gone to join the Rep's Tour, Steve and I (not "serious skiers") take Hettie and John off up the mountain, after only a few hours of ski-fitting. I have found a suitable blue for John to practice, sadly getting there involves a completely unsuitable red, but we co.... I was going to put cope, but we get down it; to lunch.
After lunch we go the other way and find a nice blue, I get in the chair with Steve,  and head off up, as we get off, I look at the rutted track for the right hand skier, and think, "Hmm, there goes John." Sadly John thinks that too, scrabbles off the chair and moves to the left, pinning Hettie's skis, then, and only then, does he fall. The chair carries on, the pisteur being more involved in the football on the tv than his job, and Hettie's ligaments ping like perished bungees before she is levered on top of John's now couchant corpus, there is much shouting, anger and pain in equal measure, with perhaps an hint of invective. Steve and I watch,
"Oh dear."
We ski back slowly and painfully, the descent in the cable car is relieved by giving a French PhD student an unsolicited education in the finer points of English etymology, and that is the end of Day 1. Well the end apart from listening to Caroline wax lyrical about where she's been, aka places only "good skiers" go to. Interrogating the reps about "Doctors" and "Insurance", meeting up with the Scots, and drinking beer and schnapps, and wine.

Day 2,3.. Hettie wasn't with us. We did skiing, we were going to do a tour with one of the reps., but the first descent took place in a whiteout so that those of us who didn't get lost immediately were allowed to get lost by ourselves - for insurance purposes. Then we did meeting the Scots in a bar (we did that quite a lot, sometimes by accident. In one bar there were people dancing (it's called continental Apres Ski), one of the people dancing was a girl in bright turquoise ski trousers, much was made of her terpsichory and callipygiosity, so much so, that we were forced to leave, by Caroline, who had deigned to accompany us.
On one of the nights we met Australians (Tosca and Pam, one of each sex, I'll leave you to decide which was which), they were nice too, but not in a callipygian way. They seemed very taken with Steve, deeming him a "character", the Scots deemed him a "headcase"

By this time my lack of fitness, and lack of ability were beginning to tell, I spent long periods of time on the toilet, not for any drastic gastric or prostatic reasons, but simply the fact that I'd run out of viable muscle fibres in my legs and therefore couldn't get back up again. In order to alleviate further damage, we booked a private lesson with Gerhardt, he would give advice to Steve and Caroline, but would give me a look of reproach and disappointment, then tell me to pull my socks up. Eventually I realised that he was actually telling me to mime pulling up my downhill sock and from that point on things went a lot better. Liz, on previous trips had told me to emulate a gorilla, meaning that the gorilla-like stance favoured the balance for skiing, now I didn't only stand like one, but my progression down the mountain looked like one bearing down on a hapless band of tourists, whose "Meet the Gentle Giants Experience" was about to have both "Meet" and "Gentle" redefined.

My last descent of the day was horrendous, I returned to the hotel and attempted to test the energizing effects of my Energizing Shampoo and Shower gel (available as part of the Nixco Acquired Hotel Products range), it didn't work. In the evening we ended up in a hotel full of Geordies where the presence of some pink shirts pinged loudly on Steve's Gaydar. I should point out that Steve's Gaydar works oppositely to normal Gaydar, think magnets, normal :- N to S, Steve's N to N. Hetty meanwhile had had a day of meditation, and was now picking up auras, we resolved to check her painkillers.

Day 4, I commit a Cardinal Sin, see Para 1

We skied over to the next valley, Scheffau, it takes so long that we have lunch and ski back.

Day 5, I am reminded that on Day 4 I committed a Cardinal Sin, I am not forgiven, sniping continues. We meet Dave and Nick in the bar, every time we return to the bar we will meet Dave and Nick. Dave and Nick stay in the bar all day. Sometimes Colin comes to see if they are still in the bar - they are. At one point Steve unwisely starts to imitate Colin, Nick's rejoinder of, "He's behind you" causes the best reaction most people can remember. Aye, you dinna mess with Colin.

Day 6, I am reminded that on Day 4 I committed a Cardinal Sin.We tour, I nearly die of exhaustion but decide not to. The sniper seems to have taken an evening off.

The next day we go home, Steve's luggage still weighs a perfect 20 kilos.