So today I went skiing.
I know, I know. I dislike skiing and all that, but we had the most fabulous snowfall last night and the season is nearly finished, and the sun was so sunny when I woke up this morning, that I kind of got emotionally tricked into it.
I'd been wanting to try out a set of skis, called BigFoot. Let's just say they were created around '90 and, well, never really took off. But they're about half the size of normal skis, with toes on the end! and I thought perhaps I could pretend I was rollerblading down some Alps. You know, as you do.
I took regular skis up the gondola as well, to keep at the top, in case BigFoot and I didn't get on so well. And slowly, but surely, I made it down. I didn't love them, especially when I realized you can fall flat on your face with them (kind of impossible with normal skis).
But, we will remain acquaintances. At the very least, I made myself laugh all day with my BigFoots and my 80's ski jacket. Watch out people, here comes a blast from the past.
At 4:30PM I remembered about those skis I'd left up the top. And, as they weren't coming down by themselves, I headed toward the Gondola.
I was *um* using somebody else's ticket to go back up. Somebody else's with their photo ID, but, hey, I was just quickly going up and back and they never check the tickets.
I nervously got on the first gondola, wearing dark glasses and trying to act cool.
I got halfway, where you have to change gondolas, and the second gondola didn't seem to be running. I hung around the entrance, looking for another option besides walking all the way to the top and a man offered to let me in through another entrance (main one was closed) and I was very thankful.
I was the only passenger and feeling a little nervous (remember, NOT my photo on the ID) and so I made some conversation with the operators, a couple of young-ish guys. English with an Australian accent in Switzerland - always a plus. BUT they wanted to check my ticket. Thankful for my dark glasses, I cooly gave them the photo ID ticket with someone else's photo.
It was a long moment: look at me, look at the photo, back at me and back at the photo. But I think my Australian accent distracted well, and I was let aboard, the only passenger.
Up we went. Me and my private gondola operator. Knowing I spoke English, he chatted and asked to sit next to me. I couldn't say no, I was sitting on the only seat.
After a couple of minutes , he asked my name, and I introduced myself as Kylie.
I immediately wanted to stuff the name back into my mouth. Kylie? My ticket said Natalie!
I am NOT good at this someone else's ID thing. I've had too much practice introducing myself as Kylie.
He held out his hand to shake mine and introduce himself and then leaned in for the introductory kiss on the cheek. Uh, I thought to myself. This is the downside to living in Europe. So much kissing people you don't know.
I pulled away but he held tight to my hand and reminded me that this was Switzerland.
Damn you Switzerland. You with your THREE kisses. And YOU, sleazy operator guy. Learn the difference between cheek and almost my mouth. Ew.
After the third very deliberate kiss, I pulled away and slid along to the edge edge edge of my side of the seat. Who makes these things so small!? My nervousness about the ID kept me chatting (shut up, will you!) and I chatted my way out of the gondola to avoid further physical contact with Mr Sleaze.
Switzerland protocol or not, I was not kissing him goodbye three times.