Breakfast this morning was bliss: birchir muesli, berries and yoghurt, followed by masses of bread and cheese, glorious cheese. After I’d narrowly escaped death by cheese, I put on my ski gear again and went to face death by skis.
The manager of the hotel, Klaus, gave me a lift up to the first cable car of Glacier 3000, a massively impressive affair: stations designed by Botta (famous architect apparently), take you from 1,600 to 3,000 metres in 15 minutes flat, huge cars with a capacity to carry 1000 people an hour. Peter, the sales rep for glacier 3000 (dishy, with blue green eyes, but a rather cautious smile) told me he’s never had to stand in a queue.
I was a little nervous when we got to the top, as I’d expected to be able to do only blue runs again, but there was a short red that was inescapable. To my delight, it turned out to be dead easy. So we decided to do another red run instead of the blues, because it was more sheltered from the wind, which was so harsh that my eyes were freezing. (Ray, those goggles aren’t WARM enough 🙂
I’ll not bore you by describing the skiing, which was enlivened by crossing into Bern (so the cafe on the bottom end of the run served drinks in German and the restaurant at the top served lunch in French). I did fall again, quite spectacularly, but not at all painfully. The only bummer was having to plod up 30 metres of slope to retrieve a ski. Not as much fun as it sounds at that altitude.
For lunch, I had – cheese! Raclette, which is yummy, crispy melted cheese served over baked potatoes. The fancy restaurant on the 4th floor of the top cable car station was empty but for us. Apparently locals don’t like skiiing when it’s cold. Wussies.
After lunch, there was only time for us to do three more short runs. I got Peter to video me doing one of them, so I could see how dumb I looked. I remember last time I skied I was utterly graceless (our instructor videoed us at the end of the week), but I thought perhaps if I knew what I was doing wrong I could work on it.
To my amazement, when I watched it later, I looked okay. Perhaps it is possible to get better at something by not doing it at all? Think I will attempt to apply this to other areas of life.
At the bottom cable car, Peter handed me the obligatory irritating envelope of tourism industry bumf (the kind where everything falls out if you don’t hold just right) then left me to catch the free shuttle back to the village in time for sledding with Klaus. This was when disaster struck: boiled on the bus with all my ski gear on, I removed as much as possible – including my favourite Freak beanie that I wore for Kili.Then I had to get off the bus (in a bit of a hurry as the driver was an impatient old rat). I had too much to carry: two skis, two poles, four gloves, goggles and that highly irritating envelope, so it was only when I had removed my boots in the ski-room that I realised the awful truth: I’d left my Freak on the bus!
I’ve asked the ladies at reception to try to get it back for me, but judging by their reactions, it’s a bit of a long shot. I’m gutted, because I really hoped I’d wear that hat everywhere for many years. Anyone who’s seen it knows how much it suits me…
Klaus, Eric and a Russian journalist called Roman (v. confusing) and I met in the lobby with old-fashioned looking wooden sleds, but which are apparently the Ferraris of sleds. The seven km run was over much too fast (I crashed twice, which means that sledding is officially more dangerous for me than skiing). Then we drank Gluwein, I went for another swim, and now I”m going to have supper. Perhaps I can have cheese fondue.
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