Skiing! A whole week of it. Man... that was great. Wow. Perfect weather, decent snow conditions, not too many people, and basically a great time. It really was the idyllic ski-week in Switzerland.
We left on 27/12 and got back this evening. There were six of us all told, sharing two rooms in a hotel in the ski villa of Belalp. Generally we rose around eight, had breakfast, skied, ate lunch around midday, skied some more until mid-afternoon, slept until six-thirty, showered, had dinner, drank and were merry until whenever we felt like sleeping, then repeated it all over again. Somehow the week went quite fast.
I had a play with Windows Movie Maker and threw together some highlights. I am pleased with the result. :)
The first morning I took some shots of the sunrise from our bedroom window. It looks like the whole sky is changing, but actually it's just me fiddling with the light settings on the camera. Nonetheless they look quite cool.
Ski conditions were pretty good. There was enough snow to keep us above rock
most of the time, though some of the higher runs degraded in the last days of our trip. The weather was fantastic. There was only one day of snow and fog, but if you went to the higher slopes you could get out of it.
Although it is not so well known, one of the favourite national Swiss past times is making a great fool of one's self. Or, as we would put it back home, playing silly-buggers. Jannick, Claudia and I brought costumes along for a laugh, and a laugh we had. I borrowed a Samiclause costume from Jannick (who had two), and Claudia donned her angel accessories. Santa's gotta have holidays too.
For New Years' day Jannick and I were hippies once again. It had, I realised, been a year-and-a-day since I'd previously worn it for Sonja's birthday on the 31/12/2006. Fun times.
The evenings were generally festive. Jannick, being Janick, was swiftly on a first-name basis with
all the waitresses and barmaids across Belalp. This meant that after dinner we'd sit down in the restaurant, down some beers, perhaps play cards, and casually waste time until the bar closed. Then as the staff left Jannick and I would invite ourselves to wherever-they-were-going and we'd be set for the evening.
The greatest highlight of my trip started in such a fashion. I followed Chregga, Sabrina (waitresses) and Axel (cook) down to the 'Ski Lift' bar. There we met Sonja (a different Sonja, who owns the 'Gifthütte' bar), and two young guys Dave and Marc. Well we were having a great time, and then out of the blue the bar closed. Sabrina, Axel and Marc took off. The rest of us dejectedly plodded up the track towards our hotel, the night still young and calling. We met Jannick and Fabienne (another waitress) coming the other way, and informed them of the catastrophe that had befallen us.
And then, a miracle happened. Sonja, bless her soul, decided the night was indeed far from over, and invited us into her bar. Chregga lent me her classical guitar and I started to play.
In my experience, Swiss live music is generally loud, repetitive and simple enough that no matter you drunk you get you can still holler along with it. People like to stamp their feet, clap and sing along. Unfortunately most of the songs I love and learn are quiet, melodic and slow. Considering that my songs are also only English, you have the extreme opposite of what could be played at a bar. In fact, on New Years' eve I was handed a guitar in the same bar full of drunken locals. Well I managed to get through 500 Miles and Knocking on Heaven's door, and there was plenty of clapping, but few people were actually able to sing along. I couldn't think of anything else that could be possibly recognised so I quit while I was ahead.
And so, I picked up a nylon strung classical guitar and started to softly play something like Cat Steven's Father and Son. You can imagine my pleasant surprise when the group not only recognised what I was playing, but knew the lyrics, knew how it was supposed to sound, and even more astonishingly, actually
liked it.
Sonja heated some vegetable soup, brought out bread and cheese, and even put on some beers.
It was all on the house. We all holed up in that Gifthütte eating soup, drinking beer, and singing songs until 3am rolled around. For me it was something I can only explain as food for the soul, and takes me back to the times that inspired me to learn guitar; the student parties we used to have when Jason and Pedy played old folk Canadian and French songs while the rest of us danced and sang our hearts out. At the end of the evening Sonja brought out a marker pen wrote a thank you note to 'Marco from New Zealand' on the Stammtisch. Words cannot express.
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| Grinning like an idiot | Marking the profile
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Immortalized
I still have this week free, and will return to work on Monday. I have eaten much, exercised little, and will need to train long and hard to undo the past weeks' festivities, however I am hardly regretful. The next two months of work will be hectic at best, after which I will be in NZ for six weeks. That will be something.
Making necessary repairs to Plucky. It's good to have access to a joinery. I glued up five cracks, cleaned, sanded and oiled it, and changed the strings. Ready for the next adventure.
