Alpine banter and old faces - 13/7/09

After a week of snow, scrabble, walks, runs and the gangster underworld of Christchurch, there was a faint glimmer of a stupid thought of upping the stakes and perhaps strapping ones wrist, and maybe getting some skis, and possibly taking it steady down a mountain run or two. Emily wasn't convinced. Fortunately a man named Jim arrived from Devon (via Sydney) and promoted the idea for some ski-field fun sufficiently.

In reality, not any more dangerous than the icy walking through avalanche zones, the ski boots fit, and it was somewhat (poor analogy) like riding a bike, despite being dressed like 'Goose' off of 'Top Gun'. Emily took like a (further poor analogy) duck to water, and soon the thrillseeker ditched the learner slopes for intermediate territory. The slopes weren't near as daunting as the drives in and out of Mt Hutt and Mt Dobson, with locals tales of cars careering off the mountain road. High gear, snow chains and keep up the speed we kept telling ourselves. And the Pulsar pulled through.

Beers and Bands with the Fran, Jim, Melbournians Meg and Nel, birthday present Claire and the ladies from Japan. Frances of Devon is keen for craft. And learning of the extended version of the bayeaux tapestry made from knitting machine parts worked up the Speights thirst in Geraldine. Up to the Burkes Pass is shrouded in heavy fog, but the pass serves as a boundary into a new world with snow covered plains leading to mountains and lakes, and the clearness of the light making gazing at the scenery disctinctly hazardous.

Typically touristy photos at Lake Tekapo precedes the famous Duncombe sausage hot-pot in the van. The unsealed road home conceals the 7.8 earthquake off Invercargill, which we should have felt. NZ is now a foot closer to Australia. The engine driven lifts and presence of only two other cars on arrival at Mt Dobson made for an charmed start on the mountain. Sunshine, snow and out of control children, with Emily on the intermediate slopes, and the rest of us tackling the natural halfpipe before back to Lake Tekapo for snowtubing and spa. Pretty fair day.

More people of note include the excellent New Zealander at Hampden fuel station, the annoying child of the year (so far) monopolising the jam night with a talentless racket, and the car rental lady with a skirt made of ties for letting us off of chipping the headlight with stone. Chur. Meals of note include a nice slab of Trumpeter in coriander, coconut and chilli courtesy of Fleur, and Jim's highly worthy van scran emporium. Choice.