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by Inky
Rated: E · Draft · Action/Adventure · #1512761
Coming down after a brilliant ski trip
Marry in haste, repent at leisure they say. The same could be true of ski-ing. I phoned a friend of mine shortly before Christmas inquiring about ski trips in February and by the end of the call agreed to give up Christmas with the folks and head off last minute with her and another friend to St Anton in Austria. We boarded the plane on December 27th blissfully unaware of what lay ahead, full of excitement and trepidation. The arrival at Friedrichshafen was delightful - I was greeted by a dashing young man holding my nametag and I marvelled to myself how filling a bus shuttle form on the internet the night before had turned into a personal pickup - good things must lay in store I decided. We met an Irish girl and guy in the shuttle bus/taxi who filled us in on their experiences to date - the girl had met her fiancee in St Anton 2 years before and the guy was seeing her brother - they met under different circumstances. The 2-hour journey was pleasant (in no small part due to our ever smiling, broad-shouldered chaffeur) and our excitement and fear grew as we neared the snow-capped mountains - we were told they were a bit steep and icy for beginners but we threw caution to the wind and placed our lives in the many hands that lay open to catch us. Accommodation was scarce but we had secured a room for 2 nights, which thankfully turned into 6 nights on our arrival - we must have looked trustworthy! Without further ado, we headed into Naserheim for a meal laughing at the similarity to Nazereth, finding a room at the Inn etc. Food in bellies we proceeded to throw hundred Euro bills at various establishments - the ski and boot hire shop, the ski school and a few pubs along the way, the Picadilly to name but a few. We got to bed reasonably early as ski school began the next day at 9.30. We turned up ready, willing and eager (if not all that able). In minutes we were segregated into the "I absolutely never skied before in my life class" and the "I skied in Switzerland for a week 2 years ago" class. I was in the latter so had to put my own skis on, penguin up to the button lift and remind myself how to stay upright on icy slopes before doing a remarkably good downhill ski - I was impressed I remembered how to get from the top to bottom. Within a few more minutes I was trundling back down to the high street to buy the skipass I forgot to purchase - no worries, meet us at the top of the Gondola my instructor exclaimed - we will wait for you. Well the queue was an hour long at that point and I had never got a Gondola in my life but not being one to shy away from new experiences I joined the queue, bought my pass and made my way to the Gondola, got on and decided it was best not to look down and to keep looking straight ahead and talking to strangers to put me at ease. It worked and I exited the lift slipslided down the hill a bit and looked around expectantly for my group, they were no where to be seen! Well it was an hour later, what did I expect? I went in search of blue suited people from the skischool and came across one who pointed me in the direction of the ski school office, where I was eventually rejoined with my group. I was told I missed a briefing but I could catch up it at the end of class - little did I know that the first hour of ski school is the most crucial. I fell coming down my first slope but managed to get up and carry on with a little help from a guy in the group. "Right, lets have lunch" proclaimed the instructor - sounded good to me I ate and drank my fill safe in my new found group excited about the prospects for the afternoon. "To the chairlift" was the next announcement - I had been on once before so wasn't too enthused but thought I can do this, someone will help me, and so I skied up, looked back, fell back and away we went, thankfully someone else remembered to put down the bar before we took off and lifted it up as we skied off.



And suddenly I found myself in a group of people but all alone in my beginner skier head on top of a very, very steep, icy mountain. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit I thought to myself followed by the instructor will be nice to me, I'll be fine. Little did I know that the instructor didn't give a fuck and had put me with a much too advanced class and I spent the whole afternoon falling headfirst, backwards, knees first, sideways, crying in a heap, sliding in a heap and basically traumatised out of my wits, slope after slope, icy mogul after icy mogul, all the way down the mountain. I was a quivering wreck by the end of it and was met with nasty glares from many of my group for holding them back - like it was my fault they could ski and I couldn't - I was told the reason I fell was that I hugged the mountain too much, didn't lean forward and kept sitting backwards with my weight on the uphill instead of downhill ski. Well I indeed learnt the hard way and the following day joined a group who were at my own level. I have to say what a difference it felt to be top of the class - I didn't fall once and dared not lean back for fear of another dreaded fall - I was battered and bruised from the day before but I muscled through and made it through the whole day without a knock. It was exhilarating, what was even more exhilarating was the fact that a guy in my new class fell all day like I had the previous one and I could coach him on what not to do- he still fell though.. Later that night I was introduced to the Mooserwirt...........to be continued
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