Would the real slim shady please sit down

Well here we are final day in this wonderland. As the gals head to the various slopes I decide to tackle the highest ski lift that leads to Red 6. Not sure I'd I am allowed without skis I use some parliamo glesga and enquire of a butch Austrian ski lift man 'gonnageesaburltaetopoyonhull'. He beckons me on...I think and despite the queue no one else appears keen to travel with Robbie the Madman. Travel 10 yards and the lift comes to a complete stop with Fritz running towards me gesticulating. Clearly being reared on Disney I am used to ride restrictions being applied automatically. It would appear that in this durst spurst tecnic world you have to manually apply the safety bar. Clearly wasn't flavour of the day but off we went and a lovely 10 minute travel up to 2700m. Got there and view good but heavy snow. No facilities for those not on planks of wood so start to panic how I get back to base camp. After a few Vision On hand gestures Fritzs brother at top allows me on to lift to descend mountain. Being an old pro at this I gracefully flip my safety bar on and sit back smugly..emergency stop again...can't be me...could be me. On way down you have to pull down the canopy which I now appreciate saved me from frostbite from he snowstorm. To keep me amused I decide to recite a few Proclaimers songs at full voice much to the alarm of those ascending. In my week here I have never seen anyone descending the lift and suddenly I became a tourist attraction as folk gazed and pointed at this rare sight. Halfway down I decided to give any onlookers the royal wave to bewilder them even more. Got down safely again to looks of amazement from the gathered skiers. Great way to end the holiday and am sure Robbie the Madman is probably the topic of conversation over the odd schnitzel plate this evening.



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Big boys don't cry

What a traumatic day. My wonderful 8 year old daughter Kiera had never put on skis until Sunday and despite a couple of teary days is now at the top of a slope in her first official race. Off she goes and heads at speed through the various slalom poles. Couldn't see her last 25 yards as I was bubbling like an overgrown bubbling monster. The roar of the crowd as she past the finish line set me off even more. I can well understand how the Austrians seem so hard as minus 17 is no place for tears and as I stumble towards the line I can hardly see with ice filled greetin eyes. When she got her silver medal later in the day I was slightly better but still filled up. Proudest dad in the world but I appreciate my greetin caused her great embarrassment. Remember dad big boys don't cry.


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Pissed on the Piste (Eurotrash)

Best day so far with unbelievable weather. Headed up the gondola to 2600m as the Moll advised there was deck chairs and also a bar. Got up and find there is 2 wooden benches and the bar is 500m away down a ski slope and unreachable to a mere mortal. I then proceed to take some stunning photos and also become most popular person to take group and single shots over the mountains. Headed down to red 6 and park myself on a deck chair with endless supplies of Heineken. The highlight of my 2 hours was the top 100 German yodelling songs of all time put to a techno beat, occasionally there was some old Abba and Village People classics. The Germans seem to use the phrase la, la, la, la in most of their classics and if I come back in another life I would like to be a German lyricist the money must be good for very little. My favourite was that German classic 'My shite cigar'. Anyway after a couple hours and many a beer I freestyles Robin Cousins style to my hotel. (having technical trouble with pictures and hope my visit to the heavens won't be wasted by a corrupt card) La, la , la I love to go a wandering.
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Ribtickler

Wednesday is the hotel staff day off and we have to fend for ourselves. Unfortunately the daily ritual of chef's soup of the day and various homemade cakes at 16.00 as we leave the slopes is broken. We decide to head en masse to Heinrich and Fritz Roma's rib joint. Keen to impress we are welcomed by the ribs of a herd of buffalo shown in the images, this is accompanied by 18 slices of full garlic bread and enough cabbagey stuff to choke a horse. I managed a couple of racks, but the lack of a decent sauce made it difficult. No BBQ sauce in these regions the choices of sweet chilli and garlic sauce were met with strange looks. Anyway not as good as Toni Romas or Macaronis and should cut down on the meat and serve better sauce. Couple of beers and obligatory couple of schnapps and then the walk home at minus 20. Fuelled by a day of beers, wine, ribs and schnapps I plucked up the courage to hit the slopes with an upturned bin lid and created purple run number 1. The unflattering footage will remain within the Longmuir vaults.

Crisis, what crisis

Even in the quietest moments you can hear the shriek of a banshee. Well the evening arrived and our party was picked up in a Rangerover which was driven by an eastern european Bond baddie. We head for the 2.5km track that I walked up the day before. This time we were in a vehicle driven by a maniac who was keen to impress with his slides round the corners and decent speed. He occasionally sounded his horn for any oncoming tobogonnars who would certainly have been gonners had we met at any corner. Reaching the summit it was silly numbers below, so we had a gluvine to heat us up and also give me the courage to descend on lumps of wood with the 6 year olds who had joined us. The hour struck and we headed to the top of the slope, I let the 6 year olds go to give them a head start. Initial few yards no problem but as soon as we reached first slope then begun a 6 minute adrenaline rush. The braver headed head first and the less brave sitting upright and then there was me uprights and heels firmly in snow. As I yelped like the gayest banshee others looked around to see what could be making such a noise. Was keen to video so I tried camera in top of my trousers, but feared a quick corner and a shift of camera and I could have created my first personal sex tape, so logically I decided to take off a glove and hold along with my reigns. Needless to say b time I got to bottom I my right hand was not of this world and took an hour to thaw out. Think I was the only one who came to a stop before end as the final straight was long and fast...you could smell the burning rubber from my heels. fantastic experience even if I was the equivalent of your elderly oap sunday driver. You got to give a little bit to get a lot.

Yellow Peril

The artistic side of me came out yesterday. Must have been my upbringing of Rolf Harris, Vision On and latterly Art Attack. During my morning snow stroll I felt the urgency to offload the excess water I had taken onboard. Having found a secluded drift in the woods, I thought it would be investing to see if I could sign my name with my personal marker. Despite my efforts it all ended up in a yellow mess and chipolata rather than bratwurst.


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What goes up ......

Post lunch decided to take the Moll's advice a head up the local toboggan track which is 2.5km long and starts high up in the mountains. Armed with iTunes, water and my fitbit I headed skyward. After a stunning 60 minute walk I find myself at the summit and a lodge Graf Ferdinand that supplied many local delicacies and fine beers and wine. The only downside to the plan was the fact that toboggans had to be rented at bottom of run rather than the top and to my disbelief I realised I would have to retrace my steps with no other form of transport available. Even looked for a friendly bin lid or cardboard box, but to no avail my great plan of exerting all my energy on way up to gently meander down on a wooden contraption had failed. Only upside was that I completed over 25000 steps but also had walked up the equivalent of 145 flights of stairs, my previous record had been 67. Tonight we head up as a large group in a Rangerover, couple of rounds of schnapps and then down we go. Hoping insurance paid up and that Kiera goes with her mum. I feel another potential story tomorrow, as long as its not from a hospital bed!




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