Christmas, New Year and Conclusion

The 08/09 holiday account Part 3

Christmas is one of three annual events that get a countdown, with our girls. This one was just as eagerly anticipated as you can imagine, even though there are no cousins, or other playmates about.

Given the payload of presents we took with us, it was a wonder the kids didn’t spot the contraband in the car, or the hiding places in our various accommodations. As it happened, more luggage space was devoted to pressies than clothes.

It was agreed that Christmas day was going to be spent at home, unwrapping, playing and NOT skiing. The kids love skiing, but they love presents more. Count-down days are also the days that start the earliest – I don’t know how it happens, but if there’s an AM on the clock and one of the kids wakes up, the rest of us don’t get a minute more sleep, especially when “Santa’s been here… Santa’s been here…” rings out at 100Db.

Their bedroom was well stocked with gifts, which Mr and Mrs Claus wrapped in the room down the hall until midnight o’clock and half past 2… one thing you can’t do is transport gifts wrapped, the risk of discovery is too high and they’ll look like nothing on earth by the time they’ve been shuffled between suitcases for a week.

Amber is the present police… Sarah gets to unwrap her presents, then Amber takes them away, examines them, if she likes it more than her version, or better than something she has, then “We can share this toy etc” if not, then its Sarah’s. Amber is always done unwrapping all her stuff by the time Saz is half way through, then she wants to “help” with the remainder of the unwrapping!

Two girls with their silk dresses, Amber likes them, just wishes that hers was that pink…

 

Santa also left some smaller gifts in the kitchen – lucky packet style

Make-up! We are happy.

Application of make-up, now we are REALLY happy

Of course, we couldn’t spend the entire day indoors, so, after adequate playing time had been allowed, and all the signs of cooped-up kids began showing up, we headed outside for some sport. Didn’t have to go far either, the empty field next door was a fertile spot for fun. Not particularly elegant though – we couldn’t fit the sleighs etc into the car, so sliding down slopes was done on bums or shopping bags.

If you were Amber or Sarah, then you got to ride a parent down the hill – way more comfy than any sleigh.

The soft snow needed to be compacted before anything like a decent surface for sliding appears - good thing the kids have heavy parents - I am speaking for myself of course!

Across the valley from our regular ski haunt in the Stubai Glacier, there is a decent set of slopes for skiers and... tobogganers... the hotel we stayed at had a whole pile of really nice sleighs free to borrow - we thought we'd need to buy or rent, but got hold of some beauties courtesy of the establishment and set off for some serious runs. The toboggan trails were popular with dozens of families and other enthusiasts queuing to get into the gondolas. Poor skiers were a bit overwhelmed I think.

Anyway, once at the top, we emerged from the lift station to survey the prospects for the first time. It looked great... if you had ski's on. We'd taken the executive decision not to allow the kids on their own vehicles, because, if they get out of control, then there's nothing to stop them plummeting off the edge of the trail, and these trails are steep, well wooded and busy.

No matter, off we go! Those thin sleighs are fast, and the feeling of speed is amplified by being so close to the ground. The obvious culmination of all of this, is the continuous string of control commands coming from the girls (sitting in front of each of us on the sleighs). They'd have their heels dug in too, unevenly mostly causing a steering nightmare for the pilots. Not to mention the high-pressure snow shower you get when there are brakes (dug-in heels) being applied ahead of you, throwing up an absolute blizzard of snow for you to speed through.

The first run went by with a mixture of elation and screams of fear and loathing. Hayley and I had a crash-course in cross-country sleigh management, steering and braking are not so difficult as they are imprecise and lacking a sense of response. A sleigh, moving at speed does not slow down anywhere close to fast enough, and steers in what can only be described as a leisurely and somewhat general trend. Once I learned how to broadside the thing, then I could at least manage the hair-pin turns of which there were many. Because there were so many people out on the trails, there were these long patches of ice where the snow is almost completely absent unless it is compacted into the ground. Now, if braking and steering on snow can be described as ineffective, you should try braking on ice. Let’s just say, it can get a little more exciting than you want it to, and way more excitement than your child signed up for, man, they let you know about it!

When the trails are not treacherous turning or braking, when you’re not dodging traffic, then you’re having great fun, until you hit the potholes… I’m making it sound like hell on a sleigh, but it wasn’t really… when you do a pothole in the car, or on skis, you generally know that you’ve been over a depression, sometimes the bump is a bit of a jolt, but you always have some kind of suspension beneath you, springs, legs etc, coping with the diverse forces at work. Things are different on a sleigh. You have a direct, and very solid connection to the ground, the most giving parts of which are the solid shafts of the wooden frame. Of course, then there is your bum, which you’d think would be able to absorb at least some of the shock, which, to be fair, it does, it just does it very poorly. After all the calculations have been done, gravity, inertia and speed have all placed their bets, what remains is a single and pronounced excess of energy that needs to be dispelled into the universe. The sleigh, following all the laws of physics to which it is bound, releases the energy directly upward, the overall experience of which is not unlike falling though the canvas of a deck chair onto a hard floor, or a hard kick up the bum. It’s funny when it’s not happening to you – we’d be zooming down a straight watching the people ahead of us popping up off their sleigh like popcorn trying to jump out of a pot, legs flying about, shrieks, and sometimes derailment.

The second run was a bit more eventful. Amber, having disembarked from the lift station, dragged her sleigh out onto the top of the slope, pulled it forward and dropped the reigns. I watched it. It wasn’t moving fast at all, very close to a dead stop actually, but… just not slow enough. It began gaining speed and heading directly down the skiers slope. I was busy taking a video at the time, and, seeing the sleigh making a run for it, I gave chase… in hiking boots on the snow… remarkably I did get to the sleigh, sliding in to grab it before I became a statistical irrelevance to the gravity that was about to take over the entire situation. I grabbed at it, but couldn’t get a grip and off it went, following the most direct line down-hill that was available. Soon, it was going so fast I could barely believe it. I could see it for a while as it streaked for the bottom, then it was gone, beyond the curve of the mountain. It must have hit some uneven ground, or else it was required to change direction too quickly, but the next thing I saw was the sleigh catapulting high into the air, spinning and rolling like an overkill Hollywood car crash.

I had called down the slope to warn any skiers that there was a huge wood and steel missile coming, but anyone more than 50m away would have heard nothing, and the sleigh was going so fast, that, they probably would have felt nothing too, if they’d taken a direct hit. It was a chilling time.

When I tried to stand up, I found the slope was too steep, any any attempt to get up had me skidding before my hands were off the ground, so down I went on my bum, at least I had some braking ability. I couldn’t see the sleigh anywhere, and thank heavens, I couldn’t see any dead bodies either. After about a Km of hill, I was able to get up and walk, could see no sign of the sleigh. The base of the slope, and its sides were lined with scrub and woods, a few places had fences that might have snagged the thing, but it wasn’t anywhere to be found. I gave up looking and began my way back toward the trail to see if I would meet up the the wife and girls. On my way, I saw someone approaching me on foot. It’s a rare enough thing, on a ski slope, and lo… she had the sleigh! Turned out, it had either hit, or had narrowly passed a small hut on one of the training slopes way down the hill. No one had been hurt.

Eventually the girls rounded the bend and came into sight – Hayley was driving so, it was about as exciting as driving Miss Daisy, but, given that we’d just endangered the lives of strangers, and that there were three people on a single sleigh, propriety was probably well in order.

New years came about a bit subdued. There was a great amount excitement in the camp, the hotel pulled out all the stops with dinner, decoration etc, and were right into the spirit of the occasion.

How lucky can one man get?

Saz looking resplendent in her new dress

Amber with the indomitable cow

Roll on the festivities, Europeans love fireworks, they are freely available, and everybody buys them, tons of them. Add to this, the stuff that is bought by establishments for their shows, and new-years is like Guy-Fawkes for as far as the eye can see for hours.

Outside, our hotel had also put on a show, horrible music – mostly German folk-style covers of 80’s numbers, but with well enough local content to make it less than meaningless to me. Fortunately, the locals, or at least those sharing the requisite cultural sensitivities to appreciate the fare were having an absolute ball. Some very… very interesting moves on the dance floor (a cleared space in the restaurant – quite adequate mind you), I’ll leave this one at that, lets just say that there were some innovations on display that… well, lets just leave it at that…

The glühwein flowed freely – that stuff could thaw anything – and there was loads of merriment, we watched the displays for a while, and when it had died down to the hectic partying that was going to be the tempo until 3 or 4 in the morning, we went off to bed.

Stubai is a quaint little town, in a valley completely surrounded by skiing resorts. This makes it a busy place when it’s busy, the traffic is terrible – those single-lane roads just can’t cope.

This is the church in the town centre.

Of course, there was still lots of skiing to be done, new years day was good and quiet on the slopes, as you can imagine, with all those hangovers to deal with.

It’s hard to get enough of something like this. Just the scenery is infinite.

Deciding against more trail tobogganing, we found a small field nearby and took the kids out for a spin on the sleighs to wind up the holiday. No traffic, no ice, and no danger… no lifts either

Which means, you gotta pull that thing up the hill girls! But once you’re up, then the getting down is all good!

 

And, that’s where we have to leave it I’m afraid… till the next time!