Men’s Downhill Ski Championships: Day Trippers continued

The St Moritz sun was blazing on the mountain side as the crowd waited for the start of the Men’s Downhill Ski World Championships yesterday. There was an endless stream of ski fans walking up from the mountain railway to the race village area in the form of another snake but this time much more colourful than the pale form of the Maloja Snake and definitely predominantly red with white crosses on all the hats, faces and flags since Switzerland were at the top of the medal table clearly. 

There were almost as many helpers to check tickets and give information as there were fans at first but that changed gradually as the whole mountain side filled up with enthusiasts waiting to see the race; which we would be able to see from most of the village area and included huge screens with all the information and start order displayed. There were bars, cafes and restaurants, to make sure that the party atmosphere was facilitated and a variety of food that could be held by hand as people milled about.

Some groups seemed to concentrate of the drinking side of things and we noticed that larger groups from clubs were operating a relay of who went to get the next tray or crate of beer. There were wine bottles and glasses on mini bars and some folk had there own supply of something stronger in flasks and as I mentioned yesterday, Caffée Latte was free for all. Another free gift that was on offer at entry points was a little box to use as an ash tray, how very green.

The highlight of the pre championship waiting time was a breathtaking air display featuring a Swiss Air passenger plane and the Swiss Military equivalent of our own Red Arrows display team who made numerous passes over the ever growing mass of spectators in a dozen different formations including spectacular flares and daring close formation feats. The air display must have gone on for over half and hour keeping the crowd fully entertained.

The Maloja Snake, seemed to get curious as to what all the excitement was higher up on the mountain way above the valley where is quietly slithered. To the race organisers dismay, the famous snake employed mother nature to intervene and change the wind direction to enable the snake to change course and make it way up the mountain and right across the upper section to the Championships course to cause mayhem to the skiers who had to wait as the referee delayed the start to allow the snake to pass. The race was delayed by thirty minutes at a time until the 12 noon start had been moved and moved and moved again and finally the event was postponed until Sunday because it was too dangerous for the race to go ahead on so steep a course without good visibility.

Of course it was disappointing to so many people and that caused another problem that I felt was slightly worrying in that everybody started to leave together. There was well planned shuttle bus service but I think there were many more people that were planned for and there was an serious crush to get on the buses. There were and endless stream of buses and only that was reassuring. We had started to move over to the shuttle stop before the announcement was made since the cloud was looking more determined every moment. Whilst we were in the throng waiting and as I said we were close to the front it still took twelve buses before we got in one of them.

When we got back to the town the party had moved on and everybody had had enough wine or beer to still be happy. There were lots of bars in the street in the centre of the town and the band still playing and moving around as they did so. With so many people partying we did not see our new friends Tamara and Katrin again but that was hardly surprising. Steve and I went into one of our favourite restaurants and had a meal since we had hours to spare before the train that were booked on.

 We were seated at one end of a table for eight people, the table was quickly filled starting with a mother and daughter who were shown to the two seats opposite us and they sat and chatted quietly with each other as they ordered and ate their meal. The other end of the table was then taken but a small family group of three. It was quite worrying and is certainly a sign of the times that they were hardly aware of each other since they were all glued to their phones neither of the parents engaged with the little girl of about eight years old and she was not concerned with them either in fact the father had two phones that never left his ear. We have a ‘phones off for meal times’ rule and think that is a good idea if you want to keep any sort of relationship with your loved ones.

After our meal we soaked up a little more of the fantastic atmosphere in the town and followed the band about for a while again until we started to wander down to the station again taking a last look at the magically beautiful resort.

The train was jam packed on the way back to Chur and some were still drinking on the train. We walked from the station in Chur much slower than we had marched to the station that morning.

We took a last stroll through the most interestingly quaint old town that was hardly off our route back to the hotel we had booked. To get to the hotel we passed, in the same street, The Pin-Up Club, the Volcano Club, the Octopussey Club and a couple of contact bars. My feed back to Bookings.com will not be quite as good as usual, but hey, we had a marvellous day out. When we got back to the hotel we still did not see a soul in the way of staff or guests and still nobody there when we departed this morning.

Men’s Downhill Ski World Championships: Day Trippers

The Maloja Snake

Our alarm went off at 5 am this morning and we managed to make a rapid exit from our very un-Swiss hotel even though it is called the SchweizerHaus. One of the contributing factors to the speedy getaway was that we had carefully laid everything we needed out in order, almost as if it was a race we were going to for ourselves. Another helpful thing was that I decided to give my face a rest today and went out without make up apart from lip balm. What helped that decision was that we were going to St Moritz for the day and in approaching forty trips there, we know it to be one of the brightest towns on earth and so I would be wearing sun glasses.

It was still full dark as we walked briskly to the station under the light of a near full moon. We caught the 5.58 am with time to spare. It was an extra train put on by Rhätische Bahn to carry the hoards of ski fans going to St Moritz to watch the Men’s Downhill Ski World Championships. We were soon on our way and unusually long announcements were the order of the day, giving information as to the additional cards we were all given when we go on the train to allow us easier passage on the way back and also to give a lot of advice about this special day.

At least three quarters of the information would have been lost to us were in not for the intervention of the two very pleasant ladies who sat opposite us and having heard us talking to each other had asked if we understood everything that was said which we admitted that we had not understood much after the initial greeting!

Everything was kindly explained to us and we had a continued friendly conversation with our travel companions who we later discovered were Tamara Stoffregen and Katrin Röhnert. Tamara told us that women were coming through the train to give everybody support items for the important event ahead of us all later in the day, and that we may be photographed and so we must say if we did not want to do that.

When the ladies did arrive it was an astonishing amount of free fan wear for the day; A hat that boldly supported SWITZERLAND around the edge, magic gloves that were Tablet friendly, and a Swiss cow bell on a lanyard and a rattle.

Steve had booked our tickets online some time ago and the big surprise was that for this special event the tickets were valid for the mountain railway and the shuttle bus back afterwards.

On our arrival on the Rhätische Bahn, Steve and I instantly spotted that the famous Maloja Snake had chosen to visit for big race day also. We were overjoyed to see it since it is very hit or miss as to when you catch it. The Maloja Snake is a long slim cloud the obviously by the very name, one know that it does looks like a snake and slithers into the Upper Engadine from the Maloja pass from Italy. It is very beautiful indeed and almost ghostly since you can see it moving. On our holiday at Christmas we had hoped to see it but with wall to wall sunshine at that time it stayed hidden.

  

This day was announced to be Switzerland’s biggest party and there was already a warm party atmosphere everywhere by the time we arrived in St Moritz in fact the party had already started on the train before 8am in the morning.

We marched with the thousands of ski fans up into the town on our way to the race village with the slight exception that we stopped for breakfast in the best tea shop in the whole world; Hanselmanns, right in the centre of this favourite winter resort of the rich and famous. There we go with our champagne taste and beer money again.

We walked to the ski village after breakie and found that the party was already in full swing at 10am. A rap DJ was doing his darndest to get the crowd into the party mood as were the pretty young Caffee Latte (Sponsored) dancers who were performing with pom-poms and tight sparkly sport wear. Put you hands in the air , put your hands in the air…., Indeed.

The next entertainment were about as Swiss as it is possible to get. Making a lot of noise and showing how very entertaining a huge brass and drum group can be they were; Bazzaschuztler from Eichberg proclaiming that they were First Nation! Noisy, painted and enthusiastic and right IN YOUR FACE. First Nation Swiss I suppose that means. For Steve there could not have been a greater treat since he so loves Swiss music. 

To be continued…….

Swiss stop over in Chur

Snow, sleet, and slushy rain were the weather order of today, Friday, as we drove from Burgundy in France slipped in to Switzerland at Basel where for the fist time I can remember there was nobody at the border checking passports or even to see if you had bought a Vignette to travel on Swiss roads. Then we turned east and drove right on to Chur. We have driven by Chur dozens of times and we have stopped there briefly many times to change trains on holiday trips to St Moritz. We have recently found had an urge to stay in the town. We thought it must have an old town area and so we have made a stop this time just for two nights.

When Steve told me that he had sneaked this extra weekend into our plans without saying a word to me, after I had told him that we should not have any more treat trips for a while and when I finally did wheedle out of him what he wanted to do this weekend and that tickets had already been bought for the event we were making the trip for, I did a bit of a step back but insisted that there were no posh hotels booked.

That turned out to be a mistake because when we got to the much cheaper hotel Steve had booked, it looked as though it was closed or that work was being done on it. The doors were all locked and a notice on the door said that the hotel was closed temporarily. Anybody who had booked must ring this number not before 4pm. It was 2pm at the time so we left the car in a car park in the centre and explored the old town which as we have long thought was very quaint indeed.

When we went back to the hotel, Steve rang the number on the door. They were an agents office and did know about our booking. Steve was directed to another part of the exterior where there was an envelope addressed to him. He was talked through how to get in. There was nobody else in the hotel. No lift to be found and our room was on the third floor. We found the right room after doing several turns around that floor because ours was the only room without a number on the door.

  

The room itself at first glance was ok. It was quite big enough and had a small kitchenette. It was newly renovated. Not quite complete though; no coat hangers or hooks. Minimal supplies in the bathroom that was a very odd little open shower room.

There was all new furniture but no fittings, utensils, cutlery in the kitchenette. Nice new TV though and desk and free Wifi.

 

When we went out again to find somewhere to eat the handle fell off the door as Steve closed it. He had to re fit it.

I suggested to Steve that we should not pick an expensive restaurant since this was an extra trip we should try to keep to the frugal rule. I chose the restaurant in the huge Migros supermarket and that turned out to be a very good idea. We both ate schnitzel and fries freshly cooked while we waited with a fresh salad. It was tasty and a ridiculously huge portion, a whole plate full of chips in fact with the schnitzel plonked on top. No complaints there. 

We did a test walk to the station to walk off the meal and check on the train times for the morning. I marched up the ticket desk and gave a big burst of my best German asking what time the trains went to St Moritz in the early morning and from which platform. The man listened very politely then said “I will print out the times and the platform number for you” in English. I carried on in German and asked it that as right that there was only one train per hour. He said “Yes that is correct”. I thanked him politely again in my best German. He smiled. We will catch the 5.58 am.

Belties on the Road Again

We are off on a long trip again. We left home at 6.am yesterday (Thursday) and not including the tunnel time; arrival, wait, load, crossing etc. we did the journey in 6 hours 58 minutes door to door which was pretty good but we are in the car and not a truck this time. There was not much to see of Englands fair south because it was dark for most of that part and France was hiding under quite think fog until well past Reims which was a shame because France has such lovely countryside and is littered with chateaux. Beautiful Burgundy in the photo above.

When we go into hotels in this town Steve is always greeting enthusiastically “Ah Monsieur Belt”. All the staff greet him holding out their hands and smiling. Then all the antique dealers are old friends. We meet as many people in the supermarket that we know in Beaune as we do at home. It is over forty years since we first stayed here.

We were in Beaune in time to do the rounds of our usual shops to pick up the few favourite items that we cannot buy in the UK and that we prefer not to be without. Wine of course, Steve’s specialized tea mix, that is heavily rose flavoured and explodes the perfume in your face as you open the tin.  My stops are both girly; I bought a pulli in a shop amusing called PULLS, then I have to call in to Sephora and pick up some of their own brand things like the absolutely waterproof dark green eyeliner that I have to have, even though everybody laughs at me for wearing makeup to go swimming.

 

                                      That is me on your left hand side at fourteen

You know I don’t care what anybody says don’t you?

I would not answer the door to the postman without my eyes on.

This is an ancient thing because my mother only went out to work to pay for my dancing lessons and I have been playing with makeup since I was ….. I don’t know…. six or seven. It was helpful some years later since I had to lie about my age to get in Worthing Musical Comedy society when in those days the age limit was sixteen and I was fourteen. The Picture here was at the dress rehearsal for Oklahoma. The guy behind me was a sort of first boyfriend later, I liked him because he had a lovely tenor voice and was funny. That was never going to last though because some guys didn’t like getting a slap around the head from my dad! And kick in the backside as they ran off, if my dad was fast enough.

On the journey yesterday we hardly spoke since we were both listening to an audio book, this time our bestie medical officer Kay Scarpetta again, Chaos by Patricia Cornwell. Riveting. Once Steve have bought a few table and paid a visit to the bank manager here who will also come out to greet him in a friendly fashion, we only have two hours to go on the Scarpetta book before we get stuck into the next book on the way to Chur in Switzerland for a two night stop. Below is crime writer Patricia Cornwell.

Long Distance Triathlon Championships: Sado Island, Japan 1998

When I was in Japan with the GB team in 1998 for the Long Distance World Championships, we were looked after amazingly well. We stayed in a Ryoken Hotel, a traditional type of Japanese hotel complete with slippers, kimonos, sleeping on rush matting, sliding doors and of course the Grand Bath.

We were taken everywhere on a Karaoke bus with our own courier. One of the things she told us on one of the journeys was that there were a number of shrines where people went to visit and pray for a quick death when the time came. Another thing that same helpful lady told us was, that we should not fold a kimono or dressing gown for that matter across our bodies left side first and then the right because in Japan the robe is only folded that way after death. I have worn my dressing gown with the right side folded in first ever since.

                 Poster that hangs in our hallway covered in signatures of team mates

She taught us to count to ten, get to know the sign for Women and Men’s toilets and every day she showed us a snack that we could buy that would be to us a ‘Recognisable, edible food’ she would pass it around the bus so we could all try it. She took us to a tea ceremony lesson. I had such a fabulous time in Japan, even though it was one of the very rare times when Steve was not with me. My team manager Ian Pettitt assembled my bike for me because I couldn’t do it and dismantled it again afterwards. Steve does everything for me for races but it was too expensive for us both to go to Japan.

We were made so welcome. At the local school every child had an adopted athlete and somewhere out on the course one of them would have your name written on a board, they would know your number and shout encouragement in Japanese as you passed by tooting hooters or banging drums. The whole stay was wonderful.

On the GB age group team there were only two Gold Medal winners, myself and another woman who was I think, in the Royal Marines, Jeanette Beaton who was in a younger age group 20-25 years. On the BA flight home the plane was quite full but not completely, there were only a few spare seats. Ian Pettitt, the team Manager and Ron Feeney, a steward who was also on the GB team, asked everybody to move seats so that on the long flight home, Jeanette and I had three seats each and could therefore sleep lying down. It was such an honour, utterly amazing.

Stay with me on this next wander because it is going somewhere. Don’t you think it is so cute when you ask a child how old they are and they say “I’m four and a half”. Kids all do that don’t they? They want to claim as much maturity as the possibly can. Five and three quarters, six and quarter, or nearly seven. They do it to sound older of course. Then we don’t do it again until we are very old when at 88 or 89 they will proudly announce “I’m nearly ninety”. Well I cannot believe that I am as old as I am either, I certainly don’t feel it, fair enough, more aches and pains than when I was younger but not too bad, still enjoying life very much indeed.

Next Tuesday I will be seventy seven and a half. Yes, this is a new game for me it’s called ‘have as many birthdays as you can before you pop your clogs’, so ‘Half Birthdays’ are in from now on.

My best friend from school died of Cancer well before she was thirty. My husband’s first business partner was murdered at twenty nine. A guy in our same antiques business, worked with us helping with our collections when we were busy, he drank himself to death, also under thirty. He was a terrible hypochondriac and always said that when he did die, he wanted his headstone to read “I told you I was ill”. Always a funny guy. He left a sweet little girl behind.

A couple of people I know and I suspect my own family, would like me to stop what they all call “All this silly nonsense”.

I’ll tell you what; I would rather keel over at the end of a race, purple in the face and sweating like a pig, than suffer years of illness and an unpleasant end in a nursing home or like both of my parents after years in and out of hospital. I will never forget standing by both of them for weeks on end at the end of their lives.

Make the most of the time you have on this beautiful planet.

                                          I think this photo was in Perth Australia

Turbomentor

Never too young or too old to try triathlon

I was awake and up before Steve this morning and so felt in the dark for my little LED light that I keep by the bed and went quietly out to the kitchen, taking with me other items to make sure that I was not too noisy so that I didn’t wake him knowing that he had had a tiring day yesterday and he his not any spring chicken anymore either. That said it has to be noted that I am not good and being quiet. My kindle in hand and my puzzler magazine in case I could not get into my book at that hour, my current read is, Sirens by Joseph Knox which is moving along nicely.

Steve was planning on doing a turbo session before going to work; if he had enough energy. My session would be later because the still new to multi sport woman, that I have been gentling quietly into my sport, sent me a message on FB last night to ask if she could come to try a turbo session again.

Like all beginners Christine has worked mostly on the things that she likes doing, things that she is good at. She is a regular runner and did her first marathon last year. She literally takes her dog out for run. Her swimming was just a bit rusty at first but she quickly built up enough stamina to get through an hour swim on her own and it took a lot of coaxing to get her to come and swim in our group. What is this crazy idea that some beginners have, that they have to reach some secret standard in their own head before going somewhere more experienced people can show you how to do it properly; not stay away and practice your faults to perfection. If help is offered; take it.

She has turned up now on a number of occasions’ and now her swimming is coming along in leaps and bounds. This morning was the second time that she had submitted herself for a turbo session. Again it was the case that she had bought herself a bike a few months ago but coyly refused the offer of advice on the bike. She is one of those people that wants always to do her best but again although she has been out for rides it is the least favourite of the three triathlon disciplines. It has been hard for me to try just to drop tips in or slip ideas in between what she thinks she should do and what Steve and I and all other triathletes know that she should do.

Main point, now that I have explained this to her kindly I can put it bluntly. Christine cannot change gear for toffees! So after today’s turbo session which went very well; she was dripping sweat at the end of it but has I think got the message about listening to her legs and my recommendation this morning was that for her next couple of rides out she find a nice quiet loop close to her home and that she just goes and plays with the gears to get used to them. Not take the bike out in the same gear that you brought it home from the shop in and not touch the changers at all. She has been using Steve bikes shoes at our house on the turbo but the thought of having your feet clipped in to the pedals out on the road is still terrifying. She has also been introduced to the pro bars. I can mention here that in my case, the moment Steve fitted pro-bars on my bike, I instantly loved them and never had any drama getting used to them at all. As to the clips on the bike shoes….. we have a way to go yet with her, since she is finding the action to release them and clipping them in for that matter, difficult. Of course she will get that hang of that quickly. We will get there in the end, it is all something totally new for her but she is a worker and does not need pushing in that respect.

This boils down to that we all need to practice; whatever it is that we are least effective with. It is extremely interesting mentoring this woman because she is exactly the age I was when I started to play with triathlon, she is one step ahead of me actually because I had never been a runner in my life (Dancer yes, runner never) until I started to regain my fitness after my fiftieth birthday. I could ride a bike but had not done so for thirty years or more and, like Christine, I could swim, but again she has the advantage because she did do some front crawl whereas I was a breast stroke/back stroke swimmer. I had to learn front crawl from scratch.

That is why we all tell anybody who gets the idea of trying a tri in their head, to go to a tri club where everybody will be falling over themselves to help with advice because we love our sport and want new athletes to enjoy it as much as we do. Make it easy on yourself. Accept encouragement and tips when offered.