Today was a ski day. With a brand new mountain to explore I
expected everyone to up and buzzing, ready to go first thing in the morning.
Apparently I didn’t communicate my expectations very well though. We were awoken
by a message over the lodge’s intercom (didn’t even know it existed) that
breakfast and coffee for those who had booked it. Given we hadn’t booked breakfast
it was mostly just an annoyance. It was enough to get me roused and thinking
about getting out and hitting the snow, injured or not.
Movement from the rest of the family wasn’t forthcoming so
easily. As we hadn’t booked breakfast, that was something that we were going to
have to organise, as well as collecting the skis we’d hired for the boys which
were a good 15 minute walk away. In my mind, everyone would have been up and
gunning to get on the slopes as close to the first lift opening as possible.
Boy was I wrong! It meant that I was frustrated and angry by the time we were
actually out the door and on our way (something akin to herding deranged and
troublesome cats). One positive that came of it was discovering a little Swiss
bakery not far from where we’re staying (close enough that carrying my skis
there was a bit over the top).
I think we finally made it to the line for the Gondola some
time well around 10am. Given how I was feeling post-crash, I wasn’t that keen
on getting anywhere near the top of the mountain, especially without knowing what
my options for getting down were. But there are things you do so that someone
can get a photo from the top, so that’s where we went.
Being a grouchy old shit for the morning wasn’t the best
start I’ve had to the day, but then we started skiing down. I was being cautious
and skiing well within my limits. The family had stopped and waited for me and
so I went to pull up with them. Now with six of us stopping on a run, there’s a
fairly sizeable group to see. Apparently we weren’t big enough for one young
snow boarder to see though. Even though I was practically stationary, he
crashed straight into me, knocking me off my skis. It hurt like a bitch. It
wasn’t like he hit me particularly hard, but given the extent of how I was
feeling from my crash from several days before, I was done. I appreciate the irony
between me clipping a snowboarder and being hit by one. By I only clipped the
guys board. This little bugger cleaned me up. Even Thomas who witnessed the
whole thing couldn’t understand how he’d managed to plough straight into me. I
was done.
Emily and I proceeded down the mountain where we skied a
nice easy green run for awhile before breaking for lunch. I managed a little
more skiing in the afternoon, but was struggling to lift my left foot enough to
turn properly so we called it a day.
Surprisingly the rest of the tribe weren’t far behind us and
so Caroline, Thomas and I decided to explore the village a little in pursuit of
happy hour supplies ahead of dinner which I’d booked at a Japanese BBQ
restaurant.
One of the delights we discovered were steamed apple buns at
Haus St. Anton. Warm, tasty, delicious and perfect for a nice cold afternoon.
As we were leaving for dinner, someone suggested that we
might like to take an umbrella because a bit of light rain was falling. We opted
not to take umbrellas because the rain was minimal, but any rain when you’re in
the snow isn’t a good thing.
Having enjoyed our Japanese BBQ, we stepped back outside to see
that the light rain had become heavy snow. It was pumping. The apple buns we’d
tried earlier in the day were good enough that we decided it was worth a walk
up the street to give them another taste, then we just had to walk all the way
back to the hotel in the pumping snow, slowly turning to snowmen along the way.
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