Posted by: martinworster | February 6, 2003

5. LET IS SNOW, LET IT SNOW, LET IS SNOW

Absolutely smashing the gaff up, flu recovery, back country unwareness and a brief flirtation with various things including giving up smoking…

 I’m beginning to really enjoy life here. It took a while to settle in but now I feel really at home and I’m loving every minute. I don’t mean to remind you of your measley existences in wet and grey London but I will. If you secretly harbour plans to go away just do it. For me its been one of the most liberating experiences and a beautiful journey so far. I came out here on my own which has also been a liberating experience as I’ve met so many people the vast majority of whom are very nice (with the odd splattering of muppets but that’s life). I also feel incredibly alive – it’s the mountains and the air. I’m boarding most days so getting really fit and nothing like stacking headfirst into 4 foot of freezing powder to remind you of your existence. It beats my previous sedentary existence in London and to be honest with you I would find it difficult to come back. So I might not. I’d like to see a bit of summer here as I imagine its gorgeous when the flowers come out. And instead of taking snowboards in the cable cars I can take the new mountain bike that I will be buying and come down that way. I also want to climb Mont Blanc. And swim in lakes with naked Scandanavians – more on this one later!My romantic life has also picked up too! I wasn’t going to go into this sort of thing as my mum might be reading this – but what the heck I will as it’s quite a funny story. So Owen and Ed came out and Owen was staying in this hotel just down the road and naturally I used to visit him everyday for a complimentary sauna and swim in an outdoor pool with mountain views – life is hard here. Also naturally the tall and beautiful Russian looking receptionist caught my eyes. Naturally after a few days of banter I asked her out and unaturally she agreed. It might have been that I pulled up in a big black jeep and told her that I was a DJ that swung it but I would never abuse my position out here.

So I took here out. ‘How old are you, you look about twenty four?’ I asked. ‘I’m 19 she replied’. I wasn’t sure whether to jump for joy in a Peter Stringfellow type flight of fancy or to make my excuses and exit via the toilet window. I stayed. Forgot to say she’s called Karina and is in fact Dutch. She’s really nice and we hang out quite a bit but I really think that’s about it. Had a nice day few days ago where we drove to Salanche which is a nearby French town with a hypermarket. On the way there we listened to Badly Drawn Boy and Radiohead. On the way back I pulled out my S Club Junior and Westlife CDs so as not to alienate her. It was a lovely day driving though – sunny, stunning scenery and Karina next to me. It’s nuts. I might take her out next week for a meal in Italy. I can’t decide on Italy or perhaps a night in Geneva. Mad huh! Also forgot to say the first time I saw her in the nude I had to be rescued from the corner of the room where I was sobbing uncontrollably in the foetal position. I will keep you posted on this one although requests for pictures / web cams in my room will be ignored.

In fact there’s already an instant update to this story (I’m writing this a few days later as I just re-read the last section). I’ve met another girl called Michaela, who, funnily enough, is Swedish. I am turning into a cliche! She’s typically Swedish in a nearly six foot tall, blonde hair, ice blue eyes, straight off the Scandinavian production line kind of way. But she’s really cool. And also, you guessed it, 19. In fact I’m beginning to feel like a backing singer with Paul Hardcastle (stutter included). ‘In Chamonix the average age of…was nineteeen, nineteen, n, n, n, n, n, nineteen.’ I hope you remember this anti-Vietnam song from the early 80s and it’s not a wasted reference. I digress. It had to happen as the other night they both turned up to see me at Dicks where I work. You know when you’re younger and you close your eyes and hold your nose and blow in an effort to disappear. Well that’s what I did but to no avail. It did wonders for my virility as that night I went straight home and flushed all my Viagras down the French pan!

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