ALL MY WORLDLY TREASURES PACKED INTO A FISH VAN.

ALL MY WORLDLY TREASURES PACKED INTO A FISH VAN

“Life’s a journey, travel light”

This was the moment that it finally dawned on me that it was really happening!  Seeing all my worldly treasures jam packed into the back of my husband’s fish van, soon to be heading for the overnight journey on the North Sea Ferry.

Firstly let me point out that I steam cleaned this refrigerated fish van out at least 5 times and still there was the faint whiff of fish.  I sprayed Fabrise and then my best Jo Malone room spray, but it did not work!!  My husband, who is more than used to the whiff of fish, was not in the least bit concerned, but imagining my treasured wardrobe of  clothes, bags, shoes, underwear, and possessions, smelling of fish for the rest of their lives was causing me some bother!!  I tried to explain that we should rent a van, one that did not spend it’s days delivering fish, but he was not having any of it!

The only option was to put all the clothes into the vaccum plastic bags and with my hoover magically suck out all the air.  Of course everything would be creased to hell but it was the better option than stinking of fish forever!  Since this day I have always had a soft spot for these bags and find the temptation to fill and suck the air out of them overwhelming.  TIP.  These bags are marvellous for packing hand luggage into the carry on cases on aircraft, you will be shocked just how much more you can get into the case!

Unfortunately the bags were no use for packing my endless pieces of mix and matched vintage china that I had salvaged from one charity shop, car boot sale, antique shop or another over the course of the last 20 years.  My china crockery collection was a big part of my English life and I had to bring it with me.  Not to mention my purchases from every TK Maxx shop in the whole of the North of England, here I had found super bargains, such as lamps, rugs, more china, bedding, towels, cushions, plus also the odd cashmere cardi from time to time.  I love this shop, I guess it is because we all love to think we have purchased a bargain, I am ashamed to say that it is the first place I nip to on my return to the UK!  My guilty pleasure.

You can’t imagine how thrilled I was when I heard that they were opening stores in Germany, now rainy Saturdays are spent driving 2 hours over the border to Kempten to see if there are any bargains to be had!  (TKMaxx.de)  Now I bet I will meet my lovely Austrian girlfriends, who love a bargain too, there one day.  Be warned, it is addictive, as you never actually know what they have in store, if indeed anything, but usually there is a treasure hiding somewhere to be recovered!

The packing of the fish van took some time and thought, and with the help of my dear friend Sarah, the most efficient and organized lady you could wish to meet, we got started.  Sarah is marvellous at de cluttering and sorting out stuff in your life, ruthless but kind (to me at least).  It was Sarah who kindly pointed out to me that I did not need 10 bags of HOMEPRIDE PLAIN FLOUR! “Don’t they sell flour in the supermarkets in Austria?” she asked.  This had not actually crossed my mind before, just the thought of not being able to make Yorkshire Puds and pancakes for the kids, like we had been so used to doing over here, had consumed my brain.  I mean I must be rational, I was not moving to a third world country where flour is scarce, no I was moving to the middle of Europe, where the economy was strong.  Yes she was right, so I only took three bags, you know just in case, she was wrong!!

Now TEA BAGS, that was another matter.  Buying Yorkshire Tea bags in the Alps was not possible, so how many boxes would I need until my return trip in 3 months?  I think half the van was full of tea bags, and of course my lovely mismatched china tea cups!  You know us Brits and our love of a cup of tea… in fact one of my favourite sayings is  There is no trouble so great or grave that cannot be much diminished by a cup of tea!  Simply marvellous and so true!  As you can imagine I consumed plenty of tea over the forth coming year, whilst trying to adjust to my new life.  Actually I consumed plenty of alcohol too, finding a gin and tonic or 6 very comforting at times.

Along with a new 2 meter sq Vispring Mattress, (not keen on the Austrian twin mattress, having a line down the middle of my bed) which was folded in a horseshoe shape (not ideal), a huge GLASS table top and legs, which we had had in our lives for 20 years, a lovely antique table from my parents, antlers from antique shops, a Union Jack footstool I had covered, cushions galore and plenty of items that made me feel like I was HOME FROM HOME….. space was becoming scarce.

As the fish van filled up quickly and the charity shop pile grew rapidly, thanks to Sarah’s ruthless de- cluttering of my life, I realized the journey I had never planned, was about to begin….

Winter 2011/12 St Anton.

SWAPPING my JIMMY CHOOS for UGG BOOTS!

Staring at me from my huge wardrobe in England, were several lines of rather fabulous shoes, of varying heights, colours, and styles, many with red soles and Jimmy labels inside.  I had always been able to justify my addiction to shoes and clothes, since working in the fashion industry in London for most of my working life, I had accumulated a spectacular display.  The only problem was what use would they be to me at 1380 meters above sea level, in a house perched on the side of a ski slope?

As my life in the Alps progressed, the answer to this dilemma soon became crystal clear... They would be no use to me at all and there and then began my addiction to Ugg boots.  I soon found out that they came in all sorts of different styles, some long, some short, black, brown, tan, beige.  Fabulously comfortable, flat, furry and warm, they became my new must have purchase and over the years the torture of changing into a pair of high heels for a special occasion, seems unbearable!  On the rare occasion I do wear heels, I always leave a pair of Uggs in the car to slip into for the journey home.  They are like my new best friends and allies in my Alpine life.
Seeing many of my beloved heels listed on eBay and making only a fraction of their original worth, was dreadful but helped to fund my new Ugg boot addiction!

Now don't get me wrong, I didn't sell all of my beloved shoes... a girl can't part with all of them, and anyway I am not constantly on the side of the mountain!  I remember one happy evening attending a friends fun Oscar evening, which started with drinks in a nice hotel bar in the main street of St Anton.  The dress code was "Oscar glamour", which in the middle of Winter, snow on the ground and temperatures of approx minus 10, is not as easy as it sounds.  I opted for a nice long black dress and my once adored black velvet strappy Jimmy choos, topped with a Moncler Ski Jacket (more about Moncler, later).  How practical the top half of my body was and how impractical the feet were!  Somewhere between taxi and hotel my Jimmy's hit a patch of ice and I lay flat on the snowy ground in the middle of St Anton high street.

Introduction

BLOND IN THE ALPS

INTRODUCTION

If you had told me 20 years ago, that I would be happily living half way up a mountain at 1380 meters above one of Europe's leading ski resorts, I would have thought you were insane! 

It probably would have been one of my last choice destinations in the world, given my dislike for skiing and sensitivity to the cold.  As a child I was constantly cold and have been clad in cashmere and sheepskin ever since and positioned myself in the nearest glass house, in a sunny spot wherever possible!  Ugg boots have been my lifelong friends, both in Summer and Winter, on beaches, in the snow or cuddled up on the sofa, it is rare you catch me without them on!

So you can imagine how thrilled I was when they actually became a fashion staple of the celebrity world, in or out of fashion, I still have mine on.  They for sure would be my desert island, must have item!

So…. How did I end up living here?  Well it’s a very good question and one I ask myself regularly, without a proper answer!

My husband?... yes for sure.

My children, partly.

Me, no definitely not….

Work, absolutely not

I think it just happened!! BUT I AM GLAD IT DID!

PART 1

My first ski holiday, was one of many that I choose not, until now, to remember….. it sort of fills me with dread.

My husband, then boyfriend,  whose passion was skiing, started planning his ski holidays in May at the end of each Winter, and I used to think thank goodness, at least 7 months without a ski holiday.  Given our lack of mutual agreement on the subject, which dominated his life, it is a miracle that we ever got married!

I had never skied as a child, being from Yorkshire farming, parents who knew nothing about the sport, it seemed a very unnatural thing to do, but before my first holiday, it did not really daunt me.  I mean how hard could it possibly be?  So many people enjoy it and pay a high price to go, so what’s the problem?

Thrilled to be booked on my first ski adventure, I nipped to C and A sports section and bought black ski trousers and a disgustingly fabulous silver, bacofoil ski jacket, gloves, socks, hat, furry head band, I was ready for off!  It was all very exciting.

That was until I got there.

We were in a large group, all of which could ski or had skied before, and of course, loved it.  They were all so encouraging and assured me I would be just fine, come with me, no come with me, the offers were flying around.  Gosh so kind, everyone is so kind, I had thought.  We were staying in a large chalet which provided, breakfast and evening meal and plenty of local cheap wine, which of course on your first night you feel you must consume vast amounts of. 

So first morning with a dreadful headache from the wine, I felt ready to conqueror the Alps! 

First of all, how uncomfortable are ski boots, like something you imagine prisoners should wear to restrict their mobility and slow them down, then to top this off they click into two planks of wood which have been specially shaped and waxed so they hurtle downhill at great speed…..  Which is exactly how my first day went!  Horribly wrong!

Here are a few rules I made which hopefully will be helpful for the future…

Rule number one as a complete beginner is, never to accept help or ski advice from a friend, unless they are a fully qualified ski instructor.  However kind and willing they are to help, just say NO!

Rule number two is, never remove your ski’s mid slope and think you can walk down in your ski-boots!

Rule number three is, abstain from drinking the night before….. easier said than done as the whole week is a mixture of ski learning, drinking, and so on it goes…. The more you end up drinking the easier it becomes in your mind, but this is actually a complete fallacy as it simply adds to your pain and discomfort the next day.

Rule number four is never ever buy a silver shiny jacket, firstly because you look like a piece of meat wrapped in bacofoil and secondly when you fall over you slide like crazy downwards!!  All-in-one suits are also a complete No No too as the hood has a nasty habit of falling into the toilet or the wet pee soaked floor when you go to the loo!

Rule number five is never take your children skiing until you have mastered the art yourself!  Children learn so much quicker than adults, being low to the ground and having gravity on their side, all makes you feel very inadequate when you are still in the beginners class and they are doing their first black run.  Also the complete rave of getting your children ready for skiing in the morning and to ski school complete with gloves, hat, skibib, helmet, lip balm, spf 100, hand warmers… etc..etc.. it is completely exhausting, so much so that you feel you need to go back to bed not on the nursery slopes!