It hadn't really occurred to me to put this up on the web but I was writing an e-mail to Mark telling him about it and the e-mail turned out to be a bit of an epic, so I decided to stick here with some very minor editing.
Sounds like your weekend was a bit of a disaster all round - still you can put it down to experience. I had a fantastic weekend and I've been in a great mood all week for some reason. We had last Friday off, so the plan was to head off up to North Japan where Ollie lives, go to some party organized by the gaijin up there and the day after head off skiing. Thursday night though I was heading home from work when this English lad who lives in the sticks, who I never met but who got my number off someone else rang, wondering if he and his 4 friends could crash in my gaff for the night. I was a bit surprised, considering that I can barely fit into my gaff myself, but I said no problem. So I met them and went drinking all night with them - sound boys all round.
Anyway I was heading off next morning to North Japan so I told the lads they could have the apartment for the weekend if they wanted - an offer they gratefully accepted, and off I went. Glyn who I was supposed to be travelling north with me was still in bed when I rang and he missed the train so I toddled off on my own and he caught a later one. The lads up North have a car so once I got up there (its the real sticks - a little town called Soma which means - 'Where Horses Meet') I just stuck my skiis onto the roofrack and we headed to Fukushima where Glyn's train was arriving. Once we'd found him it was on to the party which was a good laugh. All the JETS (English Teachers) from the surrounding area were there and loads of Japanese and they were all expecting the 'Irish Boys' From Tokyo'. Big mixture of nationalities from Maoris to Scots. Basically got legless at the party and crashed in this big room that they'd arranged in the same hotel as the party. The floor was covered in Futons so it was really comfortable and fitted all 30 of us no problems.
Anyway up next morning at 8.30am feeling grand - said our
goodbyes and off to the ski slopes. I've always wanted to try
skiing stoned and this was going to be my best chance so despite
Kevins unsteady driving I managed to roll a big joint
in the car on the way to the slopes. Got to the slopes at around
11.00 and after a few runs to get the hang of the slopes went up
to the top and had the joint. Its great fun skiing when you're stoned.
The lads who are all 'gay snowboarders' said that it enhanced
the snowboarding experience as well, except for Kev who couldn't
cope so he retired to the car.
About half an hour afterwards myself
and Glyn were at a crossroads on the trail debating the merits of
going left or right. Left was decided on which involved skiing through
this little patch of powder snow, so off I went - unfortunately when I
got through the powder onto the trail I forgot to turn and went straight
on over the edge of the trail and fell down this cliff thing. Glyn who was
watching said that once he found out I was ok it was the funniest thing
ever - watching me skiing merrily off the edge .................... I'd
've loved to have seen myself.
I was grand anyway. Snow is soft stuff to fall on generally, and I fell into
powder snow which is the softest. The main two problems were that the snow was neck
deep so it was quite easy to get stuck in it, and that both my skiis had come
off and by the time I had regained my senses one of them had vanished.
After 15minutes of slogging around in neck deep snow I gave up looking for
it and hauled myself back up to the top where Glyn was. After some discussion
the plan I decided on was to head down to the ski lift where I would try
and cadge a lift on the lift (so to speak) down to the bottom of the mountain
where I could drink beer for the rest of the day. After some experiments with
skiing on one ski - which didn't last very long - I walked down to the ski lift
and asked one of the operators about getting a lift down. There was no way
........
dangerous, irregular and crazy were what I think he said.
When he discovered that I'd lost a ski though, he sprang into action. He picked up the phone and started bellowing into it - 10 minutes later these squads of ski patrols started arriving up the lift. They asked me where I'd lost the ski, but the combination of still being stoned, and temporary memory loss of what had happened just previous to the crash coupled with the fact the all communication was in Japanese meant all I could do was just wave my hand vaguely in the general direction of the mountain. This didn't seem to faze them at all though and off they went - I didn't have a clue what they were up to. It turned out that they were off looking for my second ski - when I heard this I nearly laughed - I told your man that there wasn't a chance that they'd find it and that it was probably buried under 20 feet of snow. He was quietly confident though - "This is our work" is what he said (well, in Japanese) He told me not to worry about anything and invited me into his little hut where I drank coffee and chatted away. I was still completely whacked so everytime someone fell getting off the lift I'd laugh - much to the bemusement of your man. I was laughing with the faller though - not at them !!! I still didn't believe that there was any chance of them finding my ski - they'd have to find the crash site and then go down the cliff and wade around in neck deep snow - it didn't seem very feasible to me, but the hut was warm and your man was good company so I didn't mind staying there until something happened. What happened was that within an hour and a half they'd found my ski !!!!! I couldn't believe my eyes - my initial reaction (actually it was my reaction to everything that morning ) was to laugh which impressed the patrols - I think they'd been a little hurt by my lack of faith in their abilities.
Right this mail is far too long - basically after the skiing myself and Glyn
decided to head back to Tokyo - mainly because Tom was there and he was off to
England on the Sunday so we thought he'd be on the batter. Unfortunately
though himself and the two wusses - Lucy and Gav - were too tired to go
out - aaaaahhh the poor little dotes - so we left them and the two of us headed
towards the liquid room - stopping on the way to buy some shrooms -
where the 4 lads who were staying in my gaff were clubbing - unfortunately
the liquid room was full so we went to Club Code just across the road where
a good night was had by all.
Contents
