In the disco for another evening of drinking and
dancing. Will we all be present and correct on Monday morning.
Monday and ski school starts and after the usual
sorting out I had enough people to get the senior instructor for a class just
from our group plus an American called Don. Don and his lady, Debbie hale
from Florida and we had seen them many times arriving on the Saturday we
were leaving. Last year we changed the week to go a week later and Don and
Debbie begged us to come back the same week this year. With his dry sense of
humour and his 20 years out of date furry
après ski boots , Don was a good addition to our class.
Off we went to do a few exercises designed to
help us ski off piste. There had been a little fresh snow and on top of the
firm base it meant that off piste was never going to be easier to try than
then. Now I have skied off piste for many years and never felt really
comfortable. Richard our president said he felt the same. We loved it when it
worked but all too often we would finish going too fast and skiing out or
falling. Well with the guidance of our instructor, Gottfried, we
spent most of the day making fresh tracks and by the end of the day most of
us felt we had achieved a lot. For Richard and I it was a day with no falls
and the day we lost a lot of our fear of off piste.
Monday evening and it’s karaoke time but not
before the avalanche dance now renamed the musical chairs dance. When
the music stops the men sit on a chair and their partner must sit on their
lap. There's always one chair less than the number of coupes dancing. The
last two couples have to compete in a weird ritual involving wrapping a
toilet roll around the man. Anyway yours truly has years of experience as
well as the bulk to knock other men off of their seat. So with an American
lady, who was with Don and Debbie from Florida, I won. After that ,Karaoke.
After that the limbo competition after which some people’s backs will never
be the same again. Then on to the nail driving competition and then, YMCA
lots of schnapps, beer and dancing to round off the evening. Another late
night for the club officials!!
Tuesday more sun , more fun and another late
evening. Tonight it’s the cow milking competition. Lots of egos on display
here with Big Richard and Richard Johnson having past successes to spur them
on. Out from the Americans steps a man mountain with hands to match and the
rest as they say, is history. Just have to drown our sorrows I guess.
Oh dear how boring Wednesday and it’s sunny
again and the skiing is perfect. Curling in the evening where Michael and
Kirsten are serving hot Ghluwein to keep out the cold. Don and I act
as curl catchers behind the scoring line firing the curls back for the next
thrower. I think Rosie Brimelow won the ladies competition for us. But enough
of standing outside it’s time to get in to the disco where once again club
officials carried out the onerous duties of chaperoning our members in
the bar /disco. By now the Americans that were in the village that week had
warmed to the somewhat more energetic approach we Brits displayed in the
disco compared to their wimpish 9 o’clock finishes. YMCA, Hey Baby etc.etc
Finally the club officials were able to retire sometime after midnight.
Now by Thursday I had noticed that our instructor
and my friend Gottfried was not a happy bunny. We had asked to go a
particular restaurant for lunch and he seemed put out by that. During lunch
he was very quiet, eat nothing and seemed very restless. I was later to
discover he had had a big row with the boss of the ski school. Oh the joys of
being a ski instructor.
In the afternoon we went back across to
a permanent giant slalom course to practice for the race the next
day. Here came the event of the week. Now I have won the race a few times and
decided last season to quit the racing in deference to my advancing
years. Something had told me that I shouldn’t do the practice run.
However with everyone else doing it I decided to give it a go. Waiting below
were the lower groups waiting to see how it should be done! I followed
Richard and had a pretty good run. Later Richard said “you were really
motoring as you crossed the line.” Indeed I felt I was until I crossed the
line turned right, turned left and then disappeared over the front of my skis
in a pile of snow. Hat 20 yards behind, glasses somewhere else, one ski
off and my face in the snow. Richard was so shocked that his first reaction
was to ask if I was OK rather than get his camera out and take a picture. By
the time he had recovered from the shock I had got myself
together. Only one ski came off and the other leg was under me. I hoped I
hadn’t done anything nasty and as I got up I felt OK.
I skied on for the rest of the day and partied in
to
