The Year After The Night Before

365 days ago on a dark and stormy night in a foreign land, I found myself forlorn and alone, stranded and wounded. Fearing for my life after a horrific accident that would change the rest of my life, seeing months squandered in a painstaking recovery both physically and psychologically...
 

Who am I kidding?!

It was a mild night in at the beginning of the summer, just as the temperature is maturing from spring and I had met up with accompanied a good friend from my Koh Rong days, Dennis, to one of his friends birthday parties.on the promise to myself of not showing him up, I vowed not to drink too much. But then my hand outstretched at the bar and a beer-too-many accidentally fell into my mouth, which later resulted in a slip of footing and a battle with the cobbled streets of Graz, Austria. Curb 1-0 Becca. After much conversation to and fro , everyone decided it'd be best for me to end my evening there and get an ambulance to hospital (much against my wishes... For both ending my night and going to hospital). Once safely strapped in, and with the blue lights flashing, Dennis and I proceeded to take some selfies in the ambulance, joke around with the doctors, then he joyrode a wheelchair whilst I got my diagnosis....a fracture tibia. 

"At least I haven't broken my leg!" I thought. Swiftly being corrected and learning that a fracture is a break. A fracture tibia means I broke my leg. The fun and games ended a few days later when I realized the difficulty showering, making myself a cuppa, the sheer drop that comes with missing a step on the stairs...and that I'd have to move back in with my Mum and Dad for the first time in years...but hey- if it's not a good time it's a good story. Right? And it certainly wasn't a night to forget...if only I could remember most of it.

 

   Needless to say it was a defining moment of my year at least on those (wonky) streets in Austria.

 

The next few months saw me return to La Case de Old Lady y Baldy, after an entertaining conversation with my Mum on the phone which said in a more explicit tone "You're ever so silly, Rebecca. I wonder what thought would've skipped through your mind for you to wonder so carefree around those streets. Your vision must've been clouded through the slight inebriation of one tickle of larger too many" which I did receive a heads up text from my Dad about saying;

"told her not to be to tough wiv u x"

I'm glad I got the heads up, I would've been more glad if my mother had listened that advice. 

 

My active lifestyle of snowboarding, via ferrata, hiking (does dancing on tables count as a sport?) was very quickly reduced to a daily climb up the stairs, a hobble to the toilet, and a hop to the kitchen once an hour. Entertainment I normally source from a social with friends, an excursion to grab a coffee, or a stroll around the outdoors was rapidly reduced to whatever I could find on Netflix, solitaire on my laptop, or the ever-dreadful-but-addictive SCROLL. Eventually I strained my eyes from watching screens all day (and I even convinced myself I had an eyefloater taking over the entirety of my left side vision and a brain tumor...thanks for that one google). It was just a temporary lifestyle change for me, luckily. But it doesn't change how dramatic that shift was.

 

Eight weeks after that initial hangover, my cast was off and leg was free to face the world again. Now resembling a flakey, undercooked, and rolled-on-the-floor-and-covered-in-hair crossiant. 

 

The Beginning Of The End

23/04/19

Usually the beginning will be the best place to start... in this case the present makes a much more exciting opener. I am currently sat homeless, jobless on the floor of my friends one-roomed apartment, broken but the 100% happy.

The events which have lead up to this are as follows-

1.) Snowbombing

The End

I have a previous entry that I never connected my laptop to the internet to post (so it's going online about 3 seconds before this one to give you a comparison). So previous to this current moment right now, I had been having a great and sober time gallivanting about the mountains on my snowboard, finally picking up enough speed to not be the last in the group, finally landing some 180's, been getting great feedback at work. Mum even came out to visit, which deserves a paragraph by itself. Things were going nicely, just what I wanted from this season.  Less booze, more board. UNTIL Snowbombing festival arrived.

Mumsi came to visit, and did we have a good time? Yes we did. Did I almost kill her? Yes I did. She she crash into the ONLY other person on the slope after I told her she wouldn't? Yes she did. But we had an amazing time, a few wines, a few beers, some mountain time...we just don't mention that incident on the chair lift and the lucky guy who had her sitting on his lap...

Hitting the beginning of April we had Altitude comedy festival and I ended up the center of a few laughs one day for sure after shredding some snow up the Ahorn...I had shredded something up my Ahorn too... my salopettes. Here I am thinking "wow, I'm so fit, look at me and a the weight I've lost finally I can fit into my 2016/17 pants..." spoke too soon cause I made a massive rip in them. Then danced. Sober. To Cotten Eyed Joe...On my own. Then continued to wear them until 3am, center of the party me!

#GirsWhoShred

RIGHT NOW IS WHERE IT GETS JUICY AND BACK TO PARTY B.

So, since I left Koh Rong I've been really good/ in control of my drinking. No blackout nights, really well behaved for me- right. Taking it easy, going out snowboardng, showing up on time for work and actually adulting. I thought I'd reached a milestone in my life... WELL. You can take the gir out the party- but you know the saying. 

Snowbombing kicked off on the 8th, so naturally I get my Saturday night fever on and head out with some new friends . But, I'm an adult I decide to turn in for the night at 4am- despite being wide awake, and moderately sober. Knowing I'd need my lateness trump card for later in the week when the bars close at 6am and I start work at 6.30am...well guess who's alarm didn't go off? Strike done. Late for work (only 45mins...) 

So I am having THE BEST TIME at Snowbombing. I go chairlift speed dating, dance on some tables, finally land some 180's on my snowboard, get my dance on, have bout 12hours sleep across the week. Now, on the Tuesday I get carried away on the party vibes after watching Fatboy Slim SLAY the stage 30 seconds walk from my house and I invite a couple people back for some drinks before we go out to see the next DJ. Long story short, my housemate didn't appreciate that and I got reported to work for an "apartment violation" and got put under investigation, that in a combination of me being late (again) the next day. 

All of this commotion resulted in one decision. Be fired after the weekend, or hand in my notice for the next day and enjoy the jungle rhythms of Chase and Status... you can imagine from there hat my decision was. I've been trying to do this thing for a little while now or not necessarily doing what I think the best decision is, but trusting my gut. Sometimes it hasn't been the right decision but it's been my decision. This was one of those times...and holy crap did I make the right one. Not only did I dance my little (size 42) socks off, I didn't have to get up for work the next day! 

Been couch surfing with a friend, had some BBQ's, some movie nights, survived some Via Ferrata, had the SICKEST bluebird powder day (AKA the most perfect weather you could ever get) and the list goes on. So I'm on full holiday mode right now.  In the past 2 weeks I've made so many lifelong friends, created some amazing memories and had one of the best times of my life. Best decision I could've made. 10/10. Quit your jobs and become a skibum.

What. A. Day.

Who said that life in Peisey is boring?

After having a lovely and classy picnic at the snow park with the team we headed over to our favourite place, the Arpett. ANNNNNNND of course, that's where it all goes downhill* (not Just because it's 2000m up) so this week started off fairly normal, some sacko wine, some table dancing, getting in the cage, having a moshpit, breaking onto the platform** etcetc

As you can see from the photos we get progressively more outrageous, again.

So a started to get interesting not long after Rob popped out the Champagne, but instantly after Lewis brought out the BIGGEST BOTTE OF WINE I HAVE EVER SEEN. We had been surfing on our wobbly table all Arpett then suddenly it collapsed, we actually broke the whole thing.

Then as we are leaving I get talking to a beautiful bearded gent, and part of our conversation turns to the Piste Patrol Looking after some drunk guy on the floor to then realise it was Chalet Pascale's very own Joel Agg. So I have to drop my board and my conversation with the beautiful bearded man to rescue my roommate. By this point the Patrol have already decided that they've called an AIR AMBUANCE (A Real life FREKKING HEICOPTER) to come and get him after they can't get any conversation out of him (despite him responding to me when I spoke to him).

 So after a few phone calls to Boss Man Archie ("Hi Archie, don't worry but can we get the insurance details please" "Hey, me again, do you Know all of Joel's details please" "Hi Arch, me again, so yeah don't worry but Joel's being taken away in a helicopter, you can hear it right???") Mr Agg was being taken away. Piste Patrol kept trying to rid me from the area but I'd do anything for my boyfriend (or so they thought, I Really wanted to go in the helicopter too) so waited around, then they forced me onto a Snow Mobile, but hey I wasn't complaining. And when your friend is being taken to Hospital, you have to take selfies on the Skidoo.

So the whilst our Joel is on his way there, we do what us in Peisey are good at...drink more.

 And after a pitcher of long Island Ice Tea the rest of my evening is a blank. but I did have a great time and even rocked up to Band Night in my Salad Pets.

Then onto today....I cut up 4KG of lamb and made lamb tagine and we picked up the piece of our lives and Louise got her clothes and I located my helmet and we had a lovely (non alcoholic) bevvie in the sun.

*the Arpett never makes anything worse, Just better.

** I have never felt more famous in my whole life, and as Louise put it "I felt like Brittany!"                                                      

End of Season Mayhem

12/04/17

The mountains are getting a lot more adventurous, and not just with my terrible snowboarding but with the limits we can push our livers to. Another week, another week of blaming sacko wine (again) for my end-of-night death. We had a fab group of guests last week, a big family group of 19, 10 adults and 9 kids. They invited us down for card games and downing the dreaded chardonnay, sang songs about camembert and being a chicken-bear for not doing the waterside. So refreshing to have a group like that!

On Tuesday we were heading back from the mountain (and another successful waterside mission) and Louise's snowboard binding just came off, being 2000m up and breaking a binding isn't a great combo, especially when you have a deadline to get back into work on time. So she ended up getting the snowmobile down! The evil girl (on a gap yaarrhhh) who we always see at band night lost her ski's at the same time and got the short straw of having to go down in the blood wagon. As much as I genuinely really wanted to ride it, seeing her suffer was worth it more after her rampage at the staff "I AM NOT FXXXING GOING IN THAT THING NOOOOOOOOOOOOO", yo girl pipe down they're trying to help hahah!

The snow hasn't been great (aka almost none existent) so we've been occupying our snowboard time by going to the burger shack in 1600, doing the luge (and beating Joel HA) and hitting up the snowpark where a couple of days ago I managed to and a black ump on my first attempt!  (backs the hardest one). We also missed the last lifts to get home and the runs were closed the other day so had to bus it/phone call of shame to Archie to pick us up (AGAIN) (our hero).

last week we took part in the annual Tour Du Fromage in 1800. It's a photo challenge and a race against time (and the other teams) to compete the challenges. It also included lots of sacko wine. So much sacko. See the last post for some gnarly shots (Best Naked Air, Nature Shot, etc) Best Booty from the boys, Photo with the Les Arc sign and whatever else! It also included the Goblin being the last person in the King of The Hill challenge, not only the slowest but didn't even keep his pint. After to celebrate Rob's birthday we had a BBQ/Bonfire over in Nancroix which was great to hang, until the "WEEEEEEE like TO DRINk WITH BECCA"'s came out and it predicted my death (again) and needing assisting home (AGAIN). Oh we, here for a good time, not a long time ya know! Who even needs a liver, right?   

After last night's bonfire (and Duncan accidentally downing chilli vodka, then getting it in his eyes (more of a mess than me)) we're heading up the mountain to enjoy our last day off with our crew having a picnic then going to the Arpett for some more chaos. Can't believe how fast this has a gone, but with me and Louise booing fights to Tenerife and Scotland already and my one way ticket to Spain there's plenty more adventures panned from when we leave or little town here in the mountains. 

What Happens At The Arpett Stays At The Arpett (untill it ends up on the blog)

Another week, another week of chaos.

The chalet has only had 16 in, rather than the normal 22, which means less work, more mountain/sleep/drinking time. Win win for everyone! Also Bar Mont Blanc turned 20 this week so to celebrate they put on band night 4 times this week (dreams really do come true) and a comedy night. So naturally, we had a week of next to 0 sleep and more adventures trekking slopes and mountains.

This weeks guests were a great laugh, and talking of laughs we went to comedy night at the blanc which isn't normally my thing (I hate stand up) but we all had a really good time and, being designated driver and totally sober, it was nice to see how drunk all the guests were. Heroes.

Wednesday meant another Arpett session, this one included drunk snowboarding and snowball fights,  being the first people on the tables and some more all round chaos and a cheeky hitchhike back.

Arpett Bandits 

Duncan being the tallest (for once)

Don't worry Nan, I'm behaving! 

Cage Crew

 At home, after having one-too-many sacko wines, I thought it would be a GREAT idea to trim my hair a bit, then a bit more, then a bit more, then have my hand slip and make a giant bald patch. By this point I had butchered my hair so bad that I had no choice but the just get rid of it, so in celebration for Easter I now look like an egg. Reaching my peak of physical unattractiveness with the (about) a stone I've put on munching on leftover cake, dodgy ginger hair, bald and a horrific google tan that I acquired on my snowboarding lesson the other day.

Dodgy do

Rule number 1 of band night; ALWAYS talk about band night. Sliding down the piste (again) and having too many 1080's and sambucca's and Wednesday night started. Duncan wasn't there so it was Louise's turn to get smushed into the ceiling (not once, not twice but about 4 times). We went to a bar called Mojo's too which was new for us (and it was awful) so it was another hike down the mountain back to our chalet. Luckily we found some other people who were doing a trail so tagged along. Same again on Thursday but this time a band called the Dominoes played and they played - until 3am to be exact- and the whole place was like a normal sweaty, shirtless mess but just x10 and being designated drier (again) it meant no hitchhiking for me but a few stories I can embarrass everybody else in the room with.

Overall, a fab week! It's a shame we're branching out and making loads of new mates now with just 2 weeks left. But, always next season!

Too much dancing on the tables, oops!