Peep peeps

H in front of an avalanche from the day before

Barn

EBW in front of avalanche training center contemplating the joys of tennis

The perfect ready position

My ready position 

Here is what we learned yesterday: if your Japanese ski guide suggests, quietly, that you take the bus home from the next town instead of skiing home; take the bus. We brushed off her suggestion and found ourselves in a national geographic penguin movie.  We got to the top of a miserable lift (that is so cold, they used to provide blankets), waited for Harumi to get off and then watched her basically take the hell off. Thomas thinks he heard her say Sayonara.
It was horrible: howling wind and tiny pellets of icy snow in the face. I could not see H or Thomas (at that point it is each man for himself...but only for a brief while). Then a bit of a reprieve as we got lower. Harumi was mumbling, as she always does, about the brutal effects of this on her skin (she is a Japanese girl after all).
With the sub optimal conditions around here, we are spending a lot of time at the avalanche training center (see above photo) where one can practice looking for avalanche peeps. That way when one's friend or ski guide is buried in an avalanche, one can calmly and efficiently search for him. I cannot tell you the anxiety this exercise provokes in me. You are timed at how long it takes to find the peeps...with the gentle reminder from the very polite Japanese ski guide, that after about 15 minutes the person under the snow has "problems". After she saw my performance the first day, she looked kind of alarmed and we have been there every day since. Today was a bit faster, but really this is just not my strength.
Adding to my anxiety is this terrible story of a ski guide who witnessed two fatalities last year: both were excellent skiers, one hit his head, one broke neck. We ran into him today, and he looks exactly like the actor you would hire if you happened to want to make a nazi ski propaganda movie. Master race-ish and stoic. He is fairly difficult to look at without saying something stupid. And now that I know he had this terrible year last year, I can really make a fool of myself (am constantly thinking do not mention head injuries!!)

Above is Harumi San with some much deserved cake.

Merry Christmas!

Greetings from balmy Austria! it is like spring here, which is bad for people who like to ski in the wilderness. Thomas had a hell of a time. They went with "skins" (device on the bottom of their skis which enable them to walk up hill) and then when it was time to go down, had to contend with horrible icy, crusty snow through the trees. He said his skis were faster than the guides and he kept almost over taking him on this narrow way down with a genuine fear that this time, he would not be able to stop and end up in Innsbruck.
Harumi and I spent two hours dissecting my ready position. Seems to have helped-she is happy.

Best part of the day was when I was sitting with the S family at lunch. They joke that I am in charge of the ski race this year and I said that I thought it would be more fun if we challenged the rival five star hotel-the Gasthof Post. So we are laughing..batting around an America's cup type thing: where the two hotels compete for glory and the winner gets to make the rules (as in the sailing race)...and the hotel with the top 20 race times wins. All guests and staff welcome. Well Mrs. S listens to this, and in a move that made me love her even more than I loved her before...an act of such decisive action, of supreme Austrian bad ass backbone, she says, simply: Gerold, pass me the (goddamn- my words not hers, but they were in the air) phone. And with one arm on her seat cushion, and an exasperated look on her face asks for the Post's owner. Sigh. Yes I will wait. Yes tell her I called.
I turned to her son and said: Now that is what a hotel owner looks like!
Also when someone suggested another five star hotel (that shall remain nameless) She snorted and said "I don't think those (pansies- again my word but it was in the air...) even ski. " I mean she is so beyond....
So it looks like game on people. The owner called back and said she thinks she could get a group together. Who knows where this will go? uniforms? pranks over the years stealing the cup from its place in the window? steroids? One  well-born Arab friend heard the proposal and said he was all in, but immediately accused them of cheating. I mean it-we told him the idea and he said: TRUST BUT VERIFY! We said verify what? doping? checking bode miller in as a guest? That is the point..there are no rules. (One understand why there is so little hope for harmony in the Middle East).
As usual Christmas eve (they call it holy evening) was a romantic night. We assemble in our room for champagne and presents, then go downstairs for Christmas singing and dinner.

It is very pretty and kind of sentimental and always the same. Plus everyone looks good in the semi darkness.
I told G to make an announcement that for the next few days no alcohol would be served to any potential racer. He did not. Mrs. S (exactly as I thought) is now scouting for the very best talent in the kitchen. She seems to think we have some real ski bums hiding under those chefs hats.....and who knows? maybe my ready position will enable me to somehow, someway help the cause.

thomas lighting the candles on the tree. In an entirely wooden hotel. 

S singing for us

E listening to Gangnam style on new ipod. Pronounced it very catchy

dinner...me in the long white number from the 70s. 

Cousins

First Days

Tree in our room

F and L 

Harumi-san 

view from hotel

A few photos of the first days. All is well. Snow was great one day but now it rained and there is very little to do but go on the groomed runs or practice finding avalanche beepers. H looked mildly alarmed when she saw how inept I was at finding her backpack in the snow and suggested we practice again tomorrow. If an avalanche falls on her with me as her only rescuer, she is a goner-san.
F had his first day of ski school today, but he and L came with me and Harumi yesterday when the snow was deep and fluffy and the sun came out. Lovely. The picture above is when she gave us chocolate mid way. Luis showed up with tiny little narrow skis his things dropping all over the place poles everywhere helmet half way on..glasses askew, and then proceeded to shred the powder like he was on proper skis. He reminds me so much of Charlie.....looks disorganized but get down to business. F can keep up, but it requires every ounce of mental concentration, and he is far from relaxed. Kept mumbling that he would like to go to the race course...a place he enjoys greatly with all that hard snow and order. In fact he beat thomas for the first time! Unfortunately Thomas proceeded to wake up and the next time really skimmed those gates...got his boot caught on one of them, spun around and banged his head quite hard. The rest of us were watching in total confusion- we could not understand who this person was who was in a crumple on the slope. It seems he will not go down without a fight...it might kill him but he will not hand over the reigns.
I have Harumi until the 28th and then she has someone else for me named, alarmingly, Lukas. meaning male and Austrian which are two characteristics I avoid when picking a ski partner....the only thing scarier is if his name were Schneider.

The Winter Blog rides again!

Hello to all, meaning: my mother, aunt, cousin, Amy R, and some guy in Latvia. (We may be a small group, but we are hearty and loyal and that is something).
There was a special request that I start the Blog earlier, i.e. upon travel day, and I say what the hell.
I have nothing to report other than I almost killed myself just now reaching from a stool way above my head to try to find a bag, and fell so hard, the boys came rushing in like this was finally the end. I did not even swear. That is how bad it was.
Anyway I appear to be in one piece...all I could think of was this would really really suck to be on a ski vacation with a neck brace.
All bags are packed, many fine dresses, little dancing shoes, ski clothes, avalanche peeps, presents for the family, christmas cds we cannot live without
Here is a word from Frederick: Sugar does not make kids hyper. Also waking a sleep walker is fine for the sleeper; but maybe not for you.
(He is reading an article called "The whole truth" which is filled with facts like these. Obviously this blog is the place to come for the truth.)
Driver is here...next blog from the warm embrace of the Almhof Schneider.

Behind the Scenes

Today and yesterday have been the best I have ever had on this ship. At present it is incredibly warm with calm seas; and I, along with other global warming enthusiasts, are lounging around on deck chairs watching-I kid you not-dolphins and whales frolic about us. It is surreal.

But first I must tell you about the tour of the ship. Thomas signed us up for a special behind the scenes tour (I wanted to bong the children, but am glad I didn’t)…We are followed by two security guards and told not to touch any red buttons. Right off the bat, it is bloody great stuff. After winding through pale green panted hallways (painted to promote calm feelings) with concrete floors and up steep metal staircases, we are met by the Polish deputy captain. We are in the far bow, in a huge hold where the lines are kept (the ones that tie up the ship). Needless to say they are enormous. But more impressive is how loud the sea sounds up here: boom boom. He is adorable. He tells us that the ship looks pointed at the front, but under water it is blunt…like whales are..and when we started copying whales, ships got better. Then we go to look at the anchor. He says that when it is let down, it is really loud and dirty. Best of all, we can peer down into the water far, far below through the hole. During rough seas the water can come crashing up (many floors) into the ship and it is so loud-like a gun-that it “can be quite frightening” I fall immediately in love…an almost-captain who gets scared by loud sea noises.

On and on it goes for three and one half hours. We see where the crew lives and eats and their bar. (officers have another bar so the crew does not have to drink in front of the bosses).

We meet the doctor in the hospital. He shows us the “morgue” a closet really, but with refrigeration. Says no in-patients this trip; usually it is heart attacks, and no surgery. They only would do that in dire emergency.

We meet the rather beautiful Spanish trash woman with a rather high position, and see how everything is recycled. A person goes through the trash, separates yucky stuff (diapers, etc.) from bottles and cans. Yucky stuff is burned, and cans and bottles smashed together; food is the only thing that is allowed to be chopped up into tiny pieces and thrown over. We meet the luggage man who has been at sea for 48 years and says one family (it think the one with the body guard) brings 200 pieces of luggage; he explains they leave for Europe in June and come back in August. We bring 10 pieces.  

Then we get to the engine control room and Frederick and Thomas start to hyperventilate while they clap. This guy seemed stressed. He also did not let us get very near him. They are having to slow down due to gas prices, and will try out an 8 night crossing next year (when I first did this, it was 6).

The safety guy was the scariest. There is a fire department on board. And the worst part (or best I suppose) is they really use it. There are fires with some regularity…even a rather serious engine fire during a big storm last October. I asked if they has all been firemen on land before and he said my god no. We don’t let land firemen near us-they do nothing but pour massive amounts of water (no finesse) and this is something we cannot do on a ship. In fact, land firemen have sunk ships because of this.

The kitchen is such a mind bender; to feed 1000 people three meals a day is simply incomprehensible. We meet the head chef who is so nice and fat and friendly. Now we have been walking around for 2 hours, and this is the QM2, so we get a break with food- and champagne.

We go the theater and see them practice and the children get to play with the lights while the actors are on stage. They look particularly ridiculous because we have just received actual chef’s hats and they are wearing them as they turn the stage from dark to light while some poor guys tries to sing.

Finally we go to the bridge and get to actually go in! This is mecca to QM2 fans. An officer tells us he is on watch 12-4. And this means middle of the night, and then again mid day. He seems tired. But then up walks the captain who is just beyond. First of all, he is casual, and second of all he is a stand up comedian. I mean funny, people. Also he loves droning on with fun facts and Thomas and I have loved him from afar for days already. We are told to ask any questions we like and no one does so it is up to me to ask (obviously) about the two most important: man overboard and rogue waves.

He explains the system for man overboard . First the crew throws in a floating device with smoke that comes out when it touches water. Then the ship slows down, because when it turns back, it must be going slowly or the ship will tilt too far, and old ladies will be upset. Then out comes a life boat thingie to get you.

Rogue waves he says aren’t that rogue because they come during storms-not out of the blue. (Except tsunamis, but unless you are on the beach, who cares). I ask about the 90 foot wave that hit the Queen Elizabeth a while back and he said yes it was during a storm and yes unpleasant in terms of noise etc, but splosh it hits the deck and then it is over and no big deal really.

Thomas asks him if he was on board and he says “gosh no!! I hate bad weather!”

Really I might have to run off with him.

The boys are busy, busy from morning to night in tournaments. They do not miss one. Their nicknames are Louie the fly and Fred Astaire. When they win they get stamps in a passport looking book, and Luis is so enthusiastic about the program, that I felt compelled to remind him that he would not get an actual Swiss passport out of this.

He gets so exhausted at night: the sea air, the English, the rocking, the sports, that he cannot make it through the making of the crepes Suzette. I am not kidding; Out comes the trolley, no matter how early we start dinner, and his eyes start to droop and he actually falls asleep briefly. In front of the flames and everything. The head waiter actually asks: do we think he will make it this time? So we now have them eat a quick dinner in their room. But tonight, handsome wanted us to have soufflé and the kids heard this and so he is sending two chocolate soufflés to their cabin which they will enjoy as they watch their movie.

Do not ask me how I will get them off this ship.

Rogue Wave!

Just kidding…no waves, rogue or otherwise. It is almost balmy out here. We are now half way (sniff): 1000 miles from land. Here are a few fun facts: North America and Europe are moving farther apart; in the 173 years that Cunard has been crossing the Atlantic, the two continents have moved 8 meters away from each other. And here is my favorite: a fathom is 6 feet and comes from a word describing the approximate length of a man’s reach around his beloved.

There is a man in our corridor who sits in a windowless dark place reading all day long. He must be a body guard and I intend to find out whom he is protecting.

I am, as always a bit schizophrenic about where to park myself….once I am in one place I remember another and feel the need to go there. I am in constant motion, and alone. For example, I love the bar at the bow, but then I think I should be outside, so I go for a walk, then I want to find the children, so I go to one of the many athletic venues to track them down. I also love the idea of sitting very low down next to big windows where one can really get a sense of how huge the ocean is, and celebrate this by playing scrabble. But I never do. I like to wander the shops, get a fro yo, sit on my own deck (where I am now) flirt with my new best friend the Turk in the dining room, go to movies, get my hair done, go the gym, and my new thing: yoga. I love it all. There are some places I do not like however; and I marvel that anyone goes there. One is the winter garden…a low ceilinged place with fake waterfall and plants where people play bridge or hear the less attended lectures.

So handsome Turk is now so nice to us…gives us inside stories all the time, tells me I am a beauty of Hellenic proportions (I am paraphrasing) and then pushes the surf and turf on us. Handsome Turk, I say, do we look like people who eat something called surf and turf? It is so unromantic. And frankly I do not see the connection. Why lobster with beef? He suggested it to us so many times that it was clear that they have been told to unload the lobster pronto. Thomas tried to order tofu but Handsome Turk basically bonged that. He had put us at a really good table (children were at a movie and not with us) for two by the window. I guess one must order properly if one wants the table. …all food is included, it is just for style points.

He is a really good cook and for special moments he makes things by your table…we have had crepes suzette, bananas foster, and pasta. All excellent. Tomorrow we have coughed up a small fortune to take all of us on a behind the scenes tour. Thomas is beyond excited. I wonder if he will be able to sleep. But if that were not exciting enough, handsome wants to make us Turkish pasta at our table. I might even drink at lunch, something I am really terrible at, and actively loathe. But Turkish pasta whatever it is, sounds too good to drink with an Arnold palmer.

But best of all, handsome Turk indulges me my fascination with shipwreck stories. At breakfast I told him, in a friendly spirit of helpfulness that there were not enough life boats. “I counted” I said. He said, but 150 x 17…that is enough, no? 150? You mean 150 of us are to fit in each?! Yes. These boats have roofs on them and we will be required to sit on an X to mark our spot…and pray we are not next to a really fat person. Then, like sardines we will float with five members of the crew until someone rescues us. But as he pointed out, if the ship lists hard one way, then very few of the elderly will be able to get up to the top to fling themselves in.

Thank god.

(kidding! God, I am not a monster….)

QM2 at last

Greetings land lovers!

We are firmly aboard our beloved QM2 after the first ever delay (!) due to “small technical difficulties”. Leaving from England is, unquestionably, less dramatic than leaving from New York. It is not just the skyline (stodgy South Hampton’s vs. the greatest in the world); but the general English-ness of it all. They are so resistant to drama-everything so ho hum and disorganized. In New York they have a reggae band and are madly trying to sell you champagne (I appreciate this) ; in England they had (no joke) the sounds of Handel’s Messiah (HALLELUJAH) while we watched another cruise ship leave first. But it was totally incongruous: I mean we were excited, but not that excited to see another group leave for Bermuda. And it was especially weird when it switched to organ music.

When the captain announced the delay, I retreated to my deck chair, and the boys started playing what has become their constant occupation: paddle tennis. There is not a lot of paddle tennis played in Lech where our heroic traveling companion Luis S lives, so they are getting him up to speed before tomorrow’s tournament.

Luis is wonderful traveler…gung ho for anything; especially if it involves a ball…so he and F are having a, well, ball.

Thomas is as ever, such a reliable safety czar. During the life jacket, don’t jump over-board too early demonstration, he was explaining to Luis that even though an electric socket has fewer volts than a Taser, and a Taser does not kill you, that is because the relevant number is volts times amps….and that is why it will kill you if you put your finger in a socket.

Apparently Luis has tried this before …thankfully without success.

Same Turkish maître d’, and this year he really seemed to remember us…..he  seems a little confused on the array of children we have, but offers no judgment.

What else? No planetarium shows at all this year!, don’t ask me why. Still frozen yoghurt, still same paddle tennis director, same butlers, only change is Thomas is now into vodka….ordered it as part of the free booze in our room….and was caught in a hot tub drinking one on his own (!) wonders never cease.

He is now valiantly defending the family honor in the golf competition. I don’t have much hope however: there are a lot of Scots of this cruise. Also a lot of Germans (we just came from Hamburg), so our sneaky secret language is not a lot of use.

our bed..more comfy than at Claridge's!

Waving to fellow cruisers to sounds of Messiah

Ok it is now day three....internet is so slow, getting the blog out requires a great deal of time and luck. But the big news is we have, for the first time ever: gale force winds! very exciting. I am waiting for our guest to wake up...poor kid: between paddle tennis, ping pong, long discussion in English with waiters, and this constant rocking, we cannot keep his eyes open.  Pictures will come today, along with storm report! Seas are "rough" and up to 12.5 feet.

Sausage addendum

I will try to get some pictures from the picnic; it was as beautiful as ever...a much much smaller group than usual, and this somehow seems to be inversely correlated to the amount of wine consumed.  On and On it went with all kinds of bizarre and unnatural occurrences like Ellie jumping into very very cold mountain water and daintily swimming to the waterfall like it was Hawaii. Thomas thought I had gone mad, or been poisoned by alcohol. Finally someone realized that the bus (the only way to get to the spot, no cars allowed) would stop running soon. So we somehow got all the things together and ran with them to the stop and the friend with the wonderful house did the only sensible thing and invited everyone back for a drink. In the meantime, K took it upon herself to set up a very small bar at the bus stop like a good Schneider, just in case. They are sort of like the boy scouts.

We bowed out before some other party...but I am relieved to report that even the locals were affected by this..one claims she went to bed at nine and when she woke in the middle of the night she was no longer entirely sure of a just and merciful creator. (I am paraphrasing) K said, oh that is just them, they are not used to picnics like we are.

But here is of course the obvious coda to the whole story. The next night was the pre-aranged movie night where we watch something I gave K (I send her movies for her b day, no theater in Lech), and this time twenty people came (!) . That's right: me in charge of feeding 20 other human beings simultaneously. K said just make sandwiches! nothing big...I of course wrote to one Amy R of San Francisco Ca, my food psychologist who said, yes go with what she said, but make aioli and four salads. Ok....done. It went alright, but frankly I am out of my pay grade buying food for twenty. I have no idea.
So....few more hours here, then bonanza in London where all bloggers will be, so no blog til the ship sails with us and little Luis.
Pictures as soon as I can get them from the new atheist..(ie the woman described above) she showed them to me at movie night and at least half were taken upside down. She kept flipping her Iphone around as if it was the phone's mistake.
She is my new fav.

Latvian clown school

Below a few photos....nothing to report other than lots of guests in town, some of them ours, some the Schneiders': Italian artists from Rome, someone from India who might be studying to be a monk, sisters, parents in law, friends from Monaco, hotel guests, random people from a clown school in Latvia (I am making that up, but you never know in Lech ) So I suggested that we do one of the famous picnics like we had last year with wine cooling in the river and sausages over the fire. K said fine. Then she paused: would you like to get the sausages? well this is a first...she lets us do nothing. I used to think it was because we are hotel guests and she wants to be nice; but now I wonder if it is because she thinks we will somehow fold under the pressure and she will find us babbling on the street dropping sausages while crying and she will have to clean up after us. (not out of the question really)
Thomas made me ask her three times how many people were coming (about  30); then we went to the butcher and said THIS IS FOR MRS SCHNEIDER!!!!! and asked him calmly what he thinks she would do. So we ordered them, and went a little rogue, a little out of our pay grade, and even though she said she was not going to do side dishes, we are having him make potato salad and sliced tomato salad as well. Then we will also bring watermelon and....F and I have somehow, sort of managed to get smore ingredients here in Lech. (Show these people how to do dessert).
Then all we have to do is drop all things off this afternoon so the hotel guy can bring it all out tomorrow...blankets, firewood, wine, beer, bread, strolling minstrels, everything.
Pray for me bloggers! pray sausages are delivered in good order!
 I promise a short update afterwards.

L and F

a mountain restaurant we like in winter and summer

View from the restaurant of the town

T at lunch