After Christmas, the tourists just poured in and we were running around everyday like headless chickens, bringing soup to this table, trying to find the €89 bottle of champagne or getting into rather heated (excuse the pun) arguments with the kitchen. Having caught Raph's cold, I was particularly merry and even gave into Raph's battle plan to beating a cold: 'I have about 5 different pills here. Take one of each and it's bound to work.' An antibiotics course later and I was as fit as a fiddle again. Well, sort of.
New Years was up next. We'd prepped the tables with 9 pieces of cutlery per seat and the champagne was on ice
. (One bottle of which I accidentally gave to a table for free, oops) things ran surprisingly smoothly, except for the surplus of dirty glasses that began to build up behind the bar. A good 100 or so. Happy polishing! At 12 we were also allowed to join the hotel guests outside at the snow-bar. A glass of champagne was shared while we marveled at the fireworks. Then the Africans were let loose on the fireworks. Our boss elaborately explained how to light the firework, while Raph and I listened attentively, not wanting to set our new home alight. Turns out, easier said than done. Of course, we managed to angle the firework exactly at the wrong angle, so that it flew off horizontally into the opposite field. Much to the amusement of the hotelguests and co-workers, who were all watching. After this, we were ushered back inside to finish the clean up. At 2, we stumbled into our room, where another bottle of champagne was shared and New Year's resolutions were pondered on.
Today was my first free day in 2 weeks! After skype sessions, which sparked first bouts of real homesickness, we decided to conquer our next skislope. Halfway up the lift, we both started swearing. This was a lot steeper than remembered! Practically vertical to our untrained eye. Thus, all thoughts about technique and grace were forgotten. We had one aim and one aim only: to get to the bottom. Preferably with all limbs attached. 2 falls and a lot of 'pfluging' later, we had made it!
In a mission to get out of the hotel, we then took a gondola up a mountain and in true r&c style splurged on a good lunch
. Tonight I wandered even further away from home turf and watched a snow freestyling show. Needless to say, the snowboarders, skiiers and mountainbikers flinging themselves 20m through the air made me feel quite embarrased about my level of skiing and mountainbiking. Awestruck, I walked back to the busstop to find.....nothing. No bus. While running through the options (of which jogging 2km through the rain was the favourite), Raphaela's dine-and-dash Russians turned up and said I could hop into their taxi (a very generous offer, considering European taxi tariffs). I was ready to hug them. However, I don't think these slightly awkward Russians would've appreciated that.
Feet. What are those again? We can't feel ours anymore, thanks to the last 2 weeks (well, that's when they're not throbbing in pain):