Ski
Trip 2002
School ski-trip Diary
20th
March
Got
up as usual, only to find weather still bad, and even less snow
outside. Ah well, I thought, Ehrwald was still great crack yesterday,
it should be today. We caught the bus as usual out to Ehrwald
Alm. There were a load of Austrian primary school children on
it, making one hell of a racket. You couldn't even have a conversation
cause all the little dwarves spoke English. Bloody Hell they are
all born linguists! However Damien O'Mahony, a.k.a. Jumbo solved
our problem. He acted like he had a severe mental problem and
scared all the little tykes into a traumatised silence. They all
got off at the next stop. Before you knew it, had ascended the
mountain and were on the slopes. Today we had been told that we
were not getting lessons, but instead were going in small groups.
Mr McCrohan was in a group with Robin and others and they asked
me if I would go with them. So I did. It was quite good, and I
was really enjoying the skiing again. I kept working on my para-turning
to complete para-skiing. We went down the red slope again, and
this time, with McCrohan making out a path ahead, it was way easier.
I finished off the day feeling that the red slope was now not
the terror that it had been the start of the day.
That evening we went into Ehrwald town. We were driven in shuttle
runs by insanely dangerous continental taxi-drivers into Ehrwald.
We were let off after being told where we were going to meet and
at what time. We were also told that we were not to go drinking
and Brian outlined some of the central locations in the towns
to us. We all cruised around and I phoned my parents again before
finding the rest of them down near a sports centre that was closed
at that time of night. Not long afterwards we were hanging around
not knowing what to do when a bunch of Austrian kids come up and
attempt to communicate to us through limited English. Guess who
was called in as translator. After a bought of their English and
my crap German we realised that they wanted us to go with them
to a pub. I was just trying to explain that we had been ordered
not to, when Pamela took the arm of the leader, and started chatting
away to her in English and not understanding the replies in German,
as the rest followed her, leaving me wondering what to do. I followed
them, ending up in the one place we had been told not to go. A
bar. I was beginning to wonder what Mr. Sutton would do if he
found us there, though no one had bought drink, the assumption
that we had was an easy one to make, when low and behold, who
do we find there but our teachers and ski instructors having a
laugh with some of the other lads.
I got a glass of lemonade and hung around for a while, watching
Mr. Sutton show the lads how to play this weird Austrian game.
It was where you had a nail and a big flat wooden trunk, and the
game was where you hit your nail into the trunk using the flat
side of the hammer. First you had to tap this central nail before
having one chance to hit your own. Whoever got their nail in first
was the winner. These Austrians must have been dropped on their
heads if you ask me. Anyway, after a while Stokes said that he
was getting bored of the place and that he was going off again.
I said I would accompany him in case he got stabbed. We set off
anyway and looked around. The town was quite nice, with beautiful
ornate houses and little shops. Unfortunately most were closed,
however we did find a restaurant in a hotel, which still served
drinks and dessert. Good, I thought, seeing as those are the best
parts anyway. I found some of the others who had already ordered,
looked at the menu and got the most gorgeous chocolate ice cream
I had ever tasted. You even got a small jug of hot chocolate sauce
to slowly spread on it. Oh yeah that was some ice cream. I sat
there trying to restrain Stokes from harassing the other guests
eating there, without much luck. We got the bill when we finished,
paid and left. Shortly afterwards we went pack to the "Kerplatz"
or church place to catch a taxi back. Attracting quite some attention,
Stokes started to hump an iron boar sculpture near the Kerplatz.
Unfortunately I didn't manage to get a picture or convince him
to do it again.
One lethal taxi drive later we were back at the hotel and tired
as hell. I talked and hung around a bit before going to bed. People
came into my room at 12:10 and sang happy birthday to me.
