Hey everyone! Welcome to the first real post on my shiny new website. I hope you’ve got a nice cup of coffee and are reading this from the comfort of an adequately squashy chair or a sun-drenched cafe. If you’re at your work desk or in a library having a sneaky read, I salute you and am sorry for your woes.
Sometime in January Jack invited me along on a ski trip to Lech, a little town in the Austrian Alps. “I can’t,” I said. “I’ll be broke and I’ll have my dissertations to write.” Needless to say shortly afterwards we were booking our flights to Zurich and it was all hands on deck re. trying to fish out matching ski socks.
Of the four days, two were blazing hot and resulted in that goggle-shaped red face best avoided unless planning on joining the circus. The other two were less so, and resulted in getting literally lost in the clouds and Gillie and Jack playing ski instructor to get the gang down the mountain and safely to somewhere that serves beer.
I will take this moment to admit that I’m not the best skier in the world. I’m not terrible – I’ll get down any slope eventually and on fresh snow I can be nifty enough. But give me a mogul and I’m done. All in all, the trip was emergency-free. Except when I dropped one of my gloves off a lift into No Man’s Land and on our Glove Rescuing Mission in blinding fog we found ourselves on what can only be described as an icy mogul-ridden hell-slide. There was a man walking down the side of the slope and had taken his skis off and left them at the top – that didn’t bear well for me. But I made it. Partly by sliding along on my butt. But that was fine. Thank God that Jack – the Off-Piste-Beast – is so patient.
I didn’t get any pictures of the town itself unfortunately, which was made up of one main street lined with buzzing Apres Ski bars and merry people knocking back Aperol’s like it was going out of fashion (which it was, I was sure. I can’t believe people like Aperol so much.) On our last day (mine and Jack’s last day – the rest of the team were staying another little while but going home early was my way of feeling studious and hopeful for my academic future) James came up with a brilliant plan: we would all have some of the famed Aperol, do some shots of the local liquor and then go tobogganing. Well. If you have ever tasted the delight that is ‘Milly’ (if that’s how it’s spelled) then you will know of the burning and the aftertaste that leaves you gasping for air with a contorted face reminiscent of the Joker. Still, made for a fun MarioKart race, which we roped some unassuming children into doing with us (not sure if they had had shots or not).
All in all, it was a dreamy few days. There’s nothing like some Alpine air to freshen you up and shake off the college blues.
And there you have it. My first post on here, and it feels so good to be writing for fun again 🙂
Sometime soon I’ll throw the pictures from my January Paris trip up here – there are some real good’uns in there so keep a look out. And as ever, thanks for having a read, I hope you liked hearing my ramblings.
Lots of love,