I was doing a wash and found one crop top that smells very strongly of whiskey and tequila. I think that sums up my ski trip. And no, I am not quite recovered yet.
The same type of people will always go on ski trip and that is usually people who have skied before and are ok but love to party; really good skiers who want to ski and already have all their ski packs packed and ready to go; and people who have no interest in skiing but just want to get hammered at altitude.
But aside from all the alcohol consumption, skiing is just such a fun sport. If you haven’t tried it, you really should if you get the chance. It’s also a great opportunity to travel the world – there are several ski resorts to choose from in Andorra alone! Somebody that I used to know told me last year that I wouldn’t like the ski trip because it would be ‘too much partying.’ Well they were full of shite because I absolutely loved it. I was terribly nervous going into it as none of my friends from Trinity had booked in end. Yet, all my worries ceased to matter as my two fresher flatmates and I bobbed along to the bass, shuffling in our ski boots with a thousand other brightly colored ski-bums and all without a care in the world.
I spoke with DU Snowsports treasurer, Thilo Becker who has been skiing since the tender age of two, even making a ski appearance on the German kids TV show, “Sendung mit der Maus.” When asked how he got involved with DU Snowsports, Thilo recalled his first year, when he went to BUDS, which inspired him to run for 2nd year rep, which he got, and the rest is history! When asked what was most memorable about the ski trip this year, Thilo replied, ‘I think the ski trip experience in general is something you wont forget once you’ve been. It’s a week of great skiing, unbelievable parties and après ski with people from your uni! I think even if I hadn’t known a single person before going on the ski trip, it would’ve still been an amazing week.’
And what an amazing if not outrageous week it was. (Keeping in mind, that this was one of the ‘tamer’ years, despite broken tellys, bitten arms and relatively frequent male nudity.) While drunken humans abounded, only some actually got thrown out. We were our most inebriated at the mountain meal where the hoard of drunken Trinity students transformed the chalet restaurant on the piste into a glorified fondue cave. Bottles of wine were passed around like juice boxes and eventually clothes were coming off faster than buckles on ski boots. Then we all skied down drunk. Imagine trying to mind the stampede of intoxicated Trinity students, many of which couldn’t ski – like herding cats.
I made lots of new friends, some older and some a fair bit younger. The freshers I was living with were the absolute best craic, taking me back to my first year when everything could be mixed with Mi Wadi or Ribena and when après-ski tequila shots at 3 in the day are acceptable. Oddly enough, shots were very cheap at only €3, which seemed especially inexpensive on an otherwise very dear excursion. This is why DU Snowsports partners with a travel company, which this year was NUCO travel. To put it in perspective, a week of skiing will usually cost at least €1000. With NUCO, the base price was €400. After upgrading your skis, selecting to partake in the mountain meal, opting in for a hoodie and other frivolous essentials like renting a ‘retro onesie’, and I would imagine most ended up forking over around €600. Many people on the trip were beginners and as such, wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between good skis and shite skis and so their ski rental cost could remain low. I went for an upgrade and was given a pair of drop dead perfect Rossignol skis that thank my lucky stars, were brand spanking new, which gave me the privilege of being their first skier. Alas, these were stolen from my life after après-ski. My second pair was supposedly a further upgrade above my dear departed Rossi skis, yet these Lacroix carbons were so shit I almost couldn’t remember what brand they were. They literally looked like the edge of a block of Swiss cheese… a testament to the low snowfall as someone had clearly taken them on rocky terrain.
Growing up skiing in California, Colorado and Utah, I didn’t know what après-ski was but I instantly loved it. Having skied my whole life and being Canadian, there was a certain pressure to be‘unreal’ at skiing. I proved myself on the first day when instant karma got the better of me after covering my new friends in powder with a hockey stop (which is a fast and sharp parallel turn while channeling your inner Wayne Gretsky.) Quite an easy thing to do and yet I managed to lose my balance from a standstill and teeter onto the piste.
Skiing at home also meant that I was used to powder and having to lift my skis to avoid sinking when I would undoubtedly bring my piste-oriented rentals into the powder bowls. However, in Val Thorens, a less than desirable snowfall meant for a lot of ice, something I’ve very little practice on. ‘Twas a humbling experience to say the least but it also provided me with a challenge to overcome my fear of falling on a hard piste. I conquered my fear of ice at the Red Bull 1976 Slalom race, (ski race down a steep winding course marked by flags or poles) when, desperate for a female skier, I was recruited and then unceremoniously cut from the DU Snowsports Committee team. No hard feelings, I joined the Sheffield uni team, we made it to third round and I didn’t die. Even I was surprised with my participation as slalom is theoretically a very steep icy course. This is easily explained by how drunk I was. While our course was quite tame compared to the proper Special and Giant Slalom, it still scared me shitless at the start. However, with two Jäger bombs and a pint of mulled wine, I had enough liquid courage to get me through the gates.
The ski trip was educational too as I even learned some useful German, particularly, ‘Deine Augen sind schön.’ I was also made aware of how politically keyed in everyone was when the tragedy of Charlie Hebdo unfolded. Subsequent days of skiing were emblazoned in solidarity with ‘Je suis Charlie’ scrawled on every surface, including a pair of skis. Obviously, anyone with a soul would be saddened by the attacks, but I was amazed to see how everyone seemed to know immediately after it happened and without the use of reliable wifi. It was truly a national movement of solidarité and fraternité from the start.
The ski trip was so much fun that I would recommend it to anyone. I reaffirmed for myself that I can go anywhere alone and have a great time. I also learned that DU Snowsports is a club for anyone who craves the non-stop adrenaline of skiing all-day and partying all night, every night. Although my skis were stolen after après-ski and negotiating my way through the French Gendarmes without a word of French was a challenge, I still had an absolutely cracking good time and even made the officer an origami crane. It was great to all be united in the name of snowsports, even when all were possibly, if not most likely, drunk.
Illustration by Caoilainn Scouler
