Snow, Ski's and Shingles - Part 2 ...

I awoke the next morning with no pain whatsoever apart from a mild back ache. In light of what I had put my entire body through the day before I figured I had done quite well. My legs moved, my hips were positively loose after the stretches and angles they had been asked to perform the previous day. 

If anything I put the stiff back down to the firm bed which was similar to some of those I have slept on in India. I did my usual yoga, the back ache eased, the knees and hips were flexed and I was ready to hit the slopes yet again.

Snow had fallen during the night covering the entire valley with a rich layer of crisp white frosting.

Standing on our beautiful little balcony we were able to gaze down the valley at a scenic winter wonderland so often referred to in books.

Snow covered the roofs, snow covered the streets and yet the snow machines were still pumping out man made snow with a vengeance.

Just before we had arrived in Slovakia the family, en-mass, had headed down to the Mountain Warehouse clothing store in Aberystwyth to investe in the most wonderful array of winter snow clothing. Pre Christmas the shop had been selling their snow jackets for £79.99, ski trousers for £69.99, gloves for £19.99, hats and socks for £9.99 a piece. Our last minute decision to go skiing after the January Sales had begun, turned out to be the making of the holiday.

“Special Offer”, read the sign, “Buy all 5 for £80!!” Jackets, Ski trousers, hats, gloves and socks were piled into the centre of the room, thermal underwear joined the pile as did the half price snow boots and hand warmers. £400 lighter (for all four of us) we were ready for the slopes!

As I am sure I have mentioned before, I do NOT DO COLD!!! During my first day on the slopes despite all my wonderful new thermal equipment, I had froze. I had stamped my feet, shaken my hands, slapped my sides and jumped up and down in a bid to keep warm while the boys had been taking off their jackets to reveal sweat coated T-shirts.

As I gazed at the new crisp snow, I was not fooled by its beauty. Frost hung in the air as I breathed, minus temperatures were registered on the balcony thermometer. For warned they say is for armed, and having experienced the bitter cold of the day before, I was determined not to suffer!!!

TWO pairs of thermal socks were put on that morning, along with my Mountain Warehouse full body thermal underwear, an extra T-shirt AND a thick polo neck jumper. Peters Buff was placed on my head, my thermal hat was pulled over the top before the Buff was pulled back over to make a three layer covering over my head and a second scarf was wrapped around my neck. All this was then encased inside my padded Ski trousers and Jacket (with the hood pulled up) and finished with my thermal snow gloves.

I was not cold but then again I was not warm! We skied the slopes going over what we had learnt the day before but it was with grateful relief that I returned to our rooms that evening and stood in a boiling hot shower for over an hour!!!!

As I dried myself Peter noticed a rash across my back. It didn't hurt and looked a bit like a nettle rash. We put it down to the fact I had got snow into my waist band during one of my many falls. This had probably dampened the fabric and rubbed me as I had skied. We said no more about it and headed back down the hill-side for a well deserved game of Ten Pin Bowling and lots of Pizza!!

We had discovered that if you ordered over 30 Euros of Pizza you got Free Bowling, at 5 Euros a Pizza this called for 7 pizzas … there were 5 of us and we were hungry!! Needless to say we got our free bowling!!

The heating in the club was on serious over-drive, drinks were ordered, my boots plus one pair of socks were removed and for the first time that day I was WARM!!!

We played pool for an hour, slammed our knuckles in air-hockey, blistered fingers and strained knees in the bowling alley and had an amazing time!

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Sun shine returned to the slopes the next morning and our walk to the Ski Shop was picturesque.

Snow shone in the morning rays,

Icicles clung and dripped off rooftop edges,

Beautifully designed houses glistened in the still air.

Down in the valley the château looked magical as for our final day we hit the slopes.

The day before, as we had returned our boots and ski things to the shop, Kris had been offered a board of his own for the same price as one weeks hire. As he planned to return to Slovakia in February for a month this seemed like a great deal and he was eager to try out this new board. Romana had her own skis and while Peter and I happily handed our equipment over to the drying room, Cian had asked to take his home for the night (*??*)

In the the past two days both Kris and Cian has mastered the basics of their boards and were ready for a bigger challenge.

That morning as the sun beat down and already armed with their boards, they had headed for the HUGE cliff like mountain beside our apartment.

Peter and I lounged around on the balcony for an hour enjoying the warmth seeping over the hillside before joining them on our usual slope.

We had now spent two days on our smaller slope, Kris venturing once or twice onto the big one. We gazed up at the thick snow. We looked on as children as young as four hurtled their way down the enormous slope parents following oblivious of any danger.

If they could do it, we decided, so could we!!!!

The top of the big mountain was reached not by a pole clasped between the thighs but by a chair lift that gracefully lifted us high above the trees and snow. 

The views were amazing, the air crisp and clear ….. until we got hit by the billowing snow being thrown forcefully into the sky by the enormous Snow maker!!! We emerged from the cloud covered in a thin layer of snow that we quickly shook off just in time for our gracefully tumble off the lift and onto the utmost top of the GIANT HILL!!!

From our new view point the valley looked very very far away. Houses were pin pricks in the distance, trees mere sticks in the snow. The hill also looked incredibly steep!! Snow billowed out of the machine at the first ridge obscuring the actual slope. Little children had done this we told ourselves, little children, without sticks, without fear, without falling ….. the boys strapped their boards to their feet and one by one we began.

In those first few moments I was vaguely aware of other people as they passed by, I was vaguely aware of Kris and Cian behind me. As I passed the snow machine I became totally aware to the drop off in front of me, I was also totally aware of the speed I was gaining the further down the hill I went.

By the time I passed the half way marker I was positively hurtling down, totally out of control yet somehow still gracefully upright, no longer being overtaken, no longer looking like a beginner.

I streaked past Peter filming at the bottom of the hill, unable to look, unable to stop, definitely unable to wave!!

I raced level with the other speed skiers as they headed towards the gates of the ski lift, marvelling at the way, one by one they spun to a stop. Gradually the ground rose up before me slowing my momentum, slowly I eased to a nonchalant stop, time standing still as my heart calmed its irregular thumping.

Kris slide to a stop beside me. I was upright, I was alive, I was smiling. We beamed at each other and headed through the gate to do it again!!

By now the slope was getting busy, the sun had brought people out in droves. School parties skied in relays down the hillside and despite our growing confidence that we could actually miss the other people on the slope, it was getting uncomfortably close!!

On our fourth trip up the mountain Kris noticed that on the right hand side of the Big Hill was another slope, one bereft of people. As he strapped his boots to his snow board a wicked grin spread across his face.

“You want to try it?” he queried. It should be noted at this point that under the influence of my son 90% of my better judgement goes out the window. I have drunk blue plastic buckets of rum and coke on Cambodian beaches until 4am, I have raced motor scooters across main roads full of trucks wearing shorts and flip flops in Vietnam, I have driven cars at speed through the forestry while my children stuck their heads out of the sun roof in Wales and a lot worse, all because Kris was there to do it with me!!

We eased ourselves over to the new ridge. Half way down another snow machine obscured the view with its thick cloud of snow. We slid a little closer, wondering what lay beyond. There was only one way to find out ….... Kris went first!!

If anything this slope was actually easier that the first. Although narrow in the middle, the sides rose up to quite a height allowing you to ski upwards and therefore slow down. The snow was also soft and loose allowing the skis to dig in a little, again slowing my decent.

As we slid down the final rise, the hill opened up into the most amazing straight lined smooth decent imaginable. We glided down the last 100m, slowing perfectly at the gates of the Ski-lift.

We had found our new play ground and there we remained for the rest of the day!!!

With Kris getting cleverer by the hour!!

That evening we packed our bags. 

If the truth be told three days was enough for me in minus temperatures, three days of sliding, falling, dragging, lifting, laughing and smiling. It had been amazing, it had been fun but I was ready to go home.

We caught the bus and then trains back to Bravakslavia.....

.... drinking champagne as we went.

Kris was staying for another week to allow him more time with Romana and as we climbed aboard the bus to the airport Kris and Romana said their goodbyes to us.

In the airport we met some amazing guys from the Christmas Decorators Company who were playing a fantastic game of 'Suitcase bowls' until the security officer stopped them. They tried to reason, they even tried to make him join in, but the guard was adamant, they would have to leave the airport if they continued to play. One of the boys lamented to the guards departing back “If you cant play suitcase bowls in an airport, where can you play it???” but it was no use, the game was over ….... so they played 'Shove a penny' on the restaurant table instead!!

(this actually spread to about 5 other tables as random strangers briefly watched and then pulled coins out of their pockets, so the guard gave up!!)

The flight was short and subdued. The drive back to Wales long and winding. Peters mother had died that morning while in hospital for some tests. While we had been travelling it had seemed far away. Now we were home it became reality.

Over the next week Peter was busy with the arrangements for the funeral. The rash on my back didn't seem to be healing so I called the Doctor describing the nettle style lumps over the phone. “It sounds like an allergy” he concluded, “try antihistamines and call me Monday if it hasn't gone.”

I worked the weekend, the rash a minor inconvenience but it didn't go so on Monday morning I called the Doctor for an appointment. Tuesday morning I showed the line of red lumps that were beginning to scab to the Doctor. “You have Shingles!” he proclaimed, “How do you feel??”

I felt fine, no pain, no aches, no fever, just a rash. We worked out the date the rash had appeared, he asked me how I had felt at the time. “I was skiing” I replied, “I felt cold!!”

He shook his head, scratched his chin, “Well,” he concluded, “You are the healthiest Shingle sufferer I have ever met, you may as well go home and carry on, the rash should clear in a few more days, call me if you start to feel unwell.”

It was another week before the rash completely went, I had one day of backache similar to the ones I had had in Slovakia. I did yoga, I did Tai Chi. I ate salad and healthy soups, I lost the weight I had gained from a diet of pizza and amazing dumplings and I booked a 10 day trip to Morocco for my Birthday in March!!!

Life is good!!! But I need a suntan!! xxx