Getting up there

I've had some really great chats with random fellow schlozzers in these bubble lifts. We pretty much just talk about snow, as is the case with every new person I meet out here. I have about seven minutes from take-off to nail a new friendship. It usually takes me about 30 seconds to weigh up whether I think they'll talk to me or not, and more often than not, I take the plunge. "Wow, there's a lot of snow out there" I'll splurge out from behind my steamed up bargain goggles, and thankfully so, I've chosen a safe subject to launch my approach and I'm greeted with warm enthusiasm + a whole six remaining minutes of cheery chatter before landing + subsequently launching off our chosen platforms of varying gradients. I'm kicking myself for not getting the number of an awesome Swedish girl I really hit home with, but just an excuse to scour + scrounge that mountain for more epic encounters..

Soon after this egotistical self-timed photo was taken however I was soon joined by a much more familiar face, none other than a D A N, who within the space of one day progressed with storming success from the realms of the Greens, to the Reds . He is an absolute n a t u r a l, storming turns with styled confidence. It was the best thing in the world skiing at the top of the mountain with the boy of my dreams! We both managed to have daft falls though + twist a knee each; temporary bad news : being surrounded by mountains + recognising that there is no way, with my bullish personality, that I'll be able to rest up + resist the promise that each peak holds.

That was a long l o n g day + I very much felt my eyes closing a little bit at service that evening, I wonder if anyone noticed.