I was 27 years old and my project had ended in October with a year's pay off and I had a new job due to start in April so I decided to do two things. Firstly to become an ace skier and secondly to become fluent in German - I already spoke it to schoolboy standards - meaning extremely badly.
I changed my car for a small Japanese 4WD, put my skis on the roof and set off to Austria. I had already worked out the best resort and I booked into a cheap hotel and the next day got a three months' ski pass and asked about a cheap room. Ironically, the owner of the hotel introduced me to a retired couple who let me have the top floor of their place for not very much money.
From 8am until 11pm I worked on both of my goals with grim determination. After three months I was fast. Not stylish but fast - very fast. My next goal was to keep
my feet together so that they move as one. I did not take instruction but by now people all knew me and people would make useful observations
"Lean forwards!"
One day at the top of the ski lift complex I happened to follow one of the Austrian instructors off the lift. He grinned
"Now Englisher" he said "You follow me. OK?"
I nodded and off he went like a bat out of Hell - in his youth he had represented Austria. I had made a late start but gradually I was closing the gap and we both stopped right
at the bottom in a huge plume of snow. He looked up the mountain for me.
"Behind you Hans!" I said in German
"Shit" he said "what are you doing there?"
"Just waiting for you to let me past" I said
Of course he fell about laughing and several people who had seen this mini-race came over nodding in a mixture of approval and disapproval. Racing
was frowned on but on the other hand ...
"My God" they all said "You are so fast. You look like shit but extremely fast - sehr schnell"
I had earned my spurs and I could now chat to them all in passable German and drink with them too. I knew all the lift attendants and never needed to show my pass so I cashed it in and skied for free in return for being very generous with drinks.
One night the gondola was making it's last trip up the mountain and nobody was allowed on. The whole point being that the balancing gondola was bringing down the last dozen people on top of the mountain - the sunbathers and poseurs who did not actually ski. But I grinned at the attendant and made a drinking motion with my hand. He laughed and let me on.
At that instant an achingly beautiful girl skied up and the lift attendant held up his hand to stop her but then let her on, much to my amazement. She was clearly a competent skier but nothing special. She was classically beautiful - slim, long natural fair hair and a face like an angel.
"How did you get on?" I asked
"How do you mean?" she replied
"Well" I said "this is the last trip up and he only let me on because I know him and he knows I can get down and buy him a drink in the bar later"
"Oh" she said "Right"
She then brought down the shutters and further conversation was off the menu so I just took out my book and carried on reading.
We were maybe 200 yards from the top when it suddenly stopped and the gondola swayed alarmingly. This was nothing new and I ignored it
and carried on reading but the girl looked scared.
"Um ... why has it stopped?"
"Probably an overheated motor or a breaker gone. It usually starts after ten minutes or so. Mind you, the record is 17 hours. They all needed therapy - and a toilet"
I was punishing her for being so distant - childish, I know. I heard her gasp
"Oh shit!"
"Yes probably" I said and carried on reading
She looked both annoyed and frightened.
"Look" I said "in the worst case they can usually wind it by hand but it is very slow, you can hardly tell it is moving when they do that"
After a while she was clearly losing it
"I ... um ... suffer from claustrophobia" she said
"So why are you on the gondola?" I asked
"Well" I just love skiing, I am just obsessed with it and this seemed to be the last lift - all the other have stopped"
"Yes" I said "that makes sense. I will open the door if that helps"
The doors were locked but if you knew how you could by-pass the lock and I showed her. We were maybe twenty feet above the snow at this point
"We can jump if we have to"
There was no way you would want to do that but in an extreme case they could bring a ladder, I suppose.
She calmed down and now she deigned to talk to me
"Are you here on holiday?" she asked
I explained what I was doing
"Wow! That is so cool. Are you a good skier?"
"I am fast" I said "but lacking in style"
We chatted some more. It seemed she was a receptionist at a bank in the City - London's equivalent of Wall Street.
"So endless guys hitting on you as they say in America?"
She nodded.
"That explains it then" I said
"Explains what?"
"Why you are so distant"
She blushed
Finally the lift started up and we got to the top to be greeted by the caretaker. It was now dark and there was not the slightest chance
we would try and ski down the mountain. He showed us round
"Here is the kitchen, just help yourself to food and wine - there is no charge. You are our honoured guests."
Really?
Then he showed us the emergency accommodation - a bunk room for men and another for women. He was about to go but then added
"For you, you can use the manager's suite"
It was luxurious with a double bed and two bathrooms.
"This will suit me just fine!" she said
The caretaker disappeared off to his flat and Marie, as she was called, cooked a very competent meal which we ate with a bottle of wine - or two.
At about 10pm she stood up
"Well" she said "I now need to go to bed. Goodnight"
Well, yes. What did you expect to happen? An orgy?
The next morning I woke early and got up and dressed and walked to the main area. To my surprise Marie was there chatting to the
caretaker whose English was rudimentary. She spoke no German
"She is waiting for you" he said with a huge grin
I shook hands with Marie - quite why I am not sure, nerves probably.
"Will you ski down with me?" she asked "I think he is saying you are very fast ..."
Normally my iron rule was that I ski alone. Parties are much more companionable but much slower - endless stops for those who cannot keep up. Annoying.
"You set off and I will catch you"
She set off and I waited maybe twenty seconds and then hurtled after her and stopped maybe a hundred yards futher on. Yes, I was showing off.
"Wow!" she said "You are like a racer, that was amazing"
She had talent and by lunch time she was noticeably quicker. Yes, we stayed together for some reason.
"Do you want to stop for lunch?"
"No" she said "I want to ski"
When we got down the mountain just after the lifts had closed there was a big crowd of people waiting for us and suddenly people were taking photos.
Finally somebody showed me the local paper (in German)
MISS WORLD MAROONED ON MOUNTAIN
Yes, that was why the guy had let her on the gondola. She had won Miss World two years previously and I had spent a solid day skiing with her
without realising. She looked embarrassed
"I am sorry" she said "I thought maybe you knew and how could I tell you?"
Good point
"Oh, by the way, I'm Miss World"
After the fuss had died down we went and sat in the corner of a bar but even there people kept coming asking for her autograph.
"Do you have a car?"
I nodded
"Can we escape from this and just talk? They won't realise who I am, or was, if we go down the valley"
We drove a few miles and sat down to eat in a bistro I knew was good value for money.
"Michael" she said "can I be very candid with you?"
"Just as long as you don't friend zone me" I said
She giggled
"Do you have a girlfriend?"
"No"
"Why not?"
"Because I am not that attractive to women" I said
She recoiled
"Your turn now, Michael"
"Marie" I said "do you have a boyfriend?"
"No" she said
"Why not?" I asked
She laughed "Because I am too attractive to men"
We both laughed and she took my hand
"The only offers I get are from trophy hunters - 'I shagged Miss World'. Middle aged guys with private jets who invite me to Paris for the weekend.
Single guys are intimidated by me. And I put up a shield"
"Yes" I said "Deflector shields in place and phasers set to stun. In fact I am still stunned"
We both giggled like children
"I last slept with a man two years ago"
I was tempted to ask about women but managed to keep my mouth shut, just about.
"I have never slept with a man" I said "is it good?"
She hit me at that point and we both sat there giggling
"So what are you saying Marie?"
"Well, I like you and you are good company and I wondered if you would consider being my sort of boyfriend - you know, hang out together?"
I was trembling and feeling sick at this point
"Marie" I said "are you serious - we hardly know each other. As soon as we become a couple there will be hundreds of guys thinking if she
goes around with him she will go out with me"
We became inseperable and slept together but it turned out as I expected - I had been here before. Suddenly guys were approaching her in droves. If we
were in a restaurant and I went to the lavatory I would come back to find her talking to some handsome guy who was quite blatantly asking for her phone
number - even when I was there sometimes - like I was her brother or something.
And meanwhile, I was an expert skier going out with Miss World. Suddenly, beautiful girls were flocking round me making it clear they were available. Nothing succeeds like success. And suddenly Marie and I were no longer a couple. She met a guy who had inherited a fortune from his father and I shacked up with an Austrian girl whose family owned a hotel. Unfortunately we had begun to quarrel over petty things and I eventually moved out. Tricky but we stayed friends and she then met a local guy so there was no big problem.
Then one day I was out on the slope and my phone rang. It was Marie and I felt my insides turn to jelly
"Are you happy?" she asked
"Happier than I was" I said "thanks to you I have a ... more successful lovelife and I spend every spare minute skiing. How about you?"
The "lovelife" was an exageration but I had a nice girl lined up - the cockier I got, the easier it became. Being a shit-hot skier was a huge
asset in a ski resort full of hopeless English skiers. As was speaking fluent German, knowing everybody and having gone around with Miss World.
"Depressed" she said "This guy is an arsehole"
"That's the trouble with arseholes" I said "they tend to be arseholes. Where are you?"
"Behind you - in green"
And suddenly she hurtled past me going like a bat out of Hell - compact with her feet together in a fluorescent green suit and helmet that made her look like
some kind of exotic insect. I was in fluorescent orange and I caught her and we swept down the mountain inches apart with people videoing us we looked so cool.
"You both looked so fucking awesome - I almost wet my knickers - feel how wet I am - was she really Miss World?"
At the bottom we took the mogul field in a straight line and then stopped in a huge spray of snow about ten feet from an open air bar packed with people. Showing off again but what the fuck. We took off our skis and sauntered in.
A couple of instructors started to tell us off but when we removed our helmets they just grinned and shrugged. I bought them both a drink and all was well. We sat there and whenever anybody approached us Marie just handed them a signed photo and eventually they left us alone.
"What are you doing here?" I asked
"Looking for you" she said
"Why?"
"To tell you to fuck off, of course. Why else would I be looking for you? Arrogant bastard."
She looked angry but then we both started laughing and we sat there holding hands
"Sorry" I said "It is so nice to see you again. I have missed you desperately"
"Me too" she said
The years have passed and we live on a ski slope in Colorado - our twin daughters are both ski champions and look like angels. When we climb off the lift people whisper and take out their cameras.
We ski in an arrow formation inches apart - we are so fucking fast
Bob Cory
Modified on 25/08/2023 at 12:30:06 by ℗ Bob Cory