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... Grandma for that kind of luck: thanks Grandma.
The lift took me to Bad Gastein. I then had a race against time to taxi back to Angertal to return my gear. 10 minutes to spare, tight but a success none-the-less.
We attempted après ski at the umbrella bar, capacity 100, currently 200 people inside, one of whom was behind the bar. This was not the place for the thirsty. Patience was not optional. Waiting there though was. We went across the road to ...
... my thighs hurt.
Very very rewarding day, best day ever, again. I waited for the lads for apres ski for all of 5 minutes, then decided to disco nap. I got on the bus home, fell asleep and took that sleep straight to bed for a solid 5 hour disco nap.
I donned my pimp suit for a couple of hours out with the boys, nothing too strenuous. For the one-for-the-road Mark and I went into the Irish bar, they were kicking out so we did a shot and ...
... protect my noggin. Maybe kneepads too.
I had earmarked today as the day I will return to Bad Gastein for old-time’s sake, to dance on the tables at the Swedish bar and watch the guy singing and playing guitar while downing shots and if I’m really lucky: vomit into the guitar. The route over the mountain started with the T-bar (no sexual partner this time) across some blues (freestyle jumping), getting a bit lost at spaghetti junction followed ...
... I think you are going to like it, it goes like this…" oh man, it was all difficult, and so much fun. “Listen guys, you are freestylers now, this is where it starts getting fun, you can’t just do the turns anymore”. My thighs are going to hurt tomorrow. These jumps and tricks completely transform how I see the mountain. Blue runs: these used to be pain in the ****, trying and failing to keep up with my ski ...
... Afterwards we got dinner at the hotel. The table across from us had a 12 people strong bowling team aged 50 to 90. These guys were doing a presentation by a flipchart and smiling all the time, we’ll have to make friends.
We decided to try out the ever so quiet seeming Irish bar. You go in, it’s visibly empty from the outside, not even a bar, then you go through the next door, it’s still pretty empty, ...