Skiing For The Unbalanced and Unruly: Part 2

Second full day started early again. At breakfast I was not only on the look out for the creepy scouser from last night but for Ellie's boyfriend who just so happens to be at the same hotel. It all feels so surreal.

Having been fitted for boots and skis, I discovered that I could not walk easily in ski boots and thus walked with a slightly odd kind of swagger. That is the only way I can describe it.
My first two hour lesson was not as comical as one would have thought. I didn't fall over once and I could successfully do a snow plough and side step up the hill. Side stepping up the hill with heavy skis and boots on was the most tiring bit.
The next two hours were to become my breaking point. I was put in a group with an old man called Harry and a thirteen year old boy called Mac. My first conversation with Mac went as follows.

'How old are you?'
'Thirteen, how old are you?'
'Oh I thought you were much older, 15 or something. I'm 19.'
'Are you actually? I thought you were around my age'

I laughed but inside I was crying.

Several times Mac was told that he could join the bigger beginners group but time and again he asked to stay with us. He proceeded to throw snow and me. Next thing I knew, his nine year old brother skiied past and shouted 'Is that your girlfriend?'. I giggled but my soul wept.

The first small disaster was when I lost my ski instructor's goggles. I put them down for five minutes but when he went to get them they had disappeared leaving only the outline in the snow.

The second disaster happened not long afterwards. I continually failed to do left and right turns. On occasion I managed and I thought I was just getting the hang of it. Then we plodded in ski boots all the way up the hill and were told to hold our poles out to make a semi circle in the snow when we turned. I immediately lost control and started hurtling down the nursery slope full speed. I tried to make a snow plough to stop like we were told. It didn't work. I dropped one pole, nearly collided with several people and only ground to a halt when I realised my only choice was to land flat on my bum. It was spectacular and when I got up my whole body was trembling. I wanted to cry.

Then came the grand finale to my day. After feeling a bit down I persuaded myself to go on the bar crawl. I took Matt along with me and I went a little too hard. With a free shot at each bar and cheeks burning from the heat of each place, we gradually got through too much vodka and stumbled onward. There were several games. If you drank with your right hand you had to down your drink, if someone put a coin in your drink you had to down it. At the final bar two volunteers had to kiss as many people in the bar as possible to get a another free shot.
At this point I didn't think I was drunk enough so I picked up my things and left. Call me boring, but, it was a good thing I left because as soon as I got back to our room I vomited. What's worse was my mum went to get Matt and his brother to help me out. I was incredibly ill and incredibly embarrassed.

Skiing For The Unbalanced and Unruly: Part 1

I have decided I'd record my skiing adventure via multiple blog-posts. This will hopefully provide some fairly comical content for my readership considering that I am a generally unbalanced human being. I have never been skiing before in my life.
I've been transported to the Borovets in snowy Bulgaria with my mother and my brother only to discover we are all sharing one room in our hotel. There is, of course, immense fun to be had. We are staying in a resort which boasts many strip clubs, bars, and of course ski slopes (can you tell I don't ski yet?). It is a package holiday haven. Not a local in sight. In fact, the holiday reps are the closest to locals you'll find.

When we first got to our room, Mum struggled with the door key. Holding the key at least five feet from the electronic lock, she complained that it wasn't working. I came to the rescue, with the prowess of a tech-savvy youth ready to prove to the middle aged and upward, that we're fully capable. We walked into a dark room and yet again, we simply slid the key into a little slot by the door and pronounced 'let there be light'. And there was. I hoped this was not going to be the Christmas miracle of the trip.

Our first full day in the ski resort was, well, entertaining. A little tired from travelling, and rather nervous, I opted out of skiing for the first day and utilised the fully stocked spa and an 'action packed' holiday by taking a dip in the pool and grabbing a cheap massage. I can't remember the last time I went on a holiday where I wasn't intensely exploring a city or tourist hotspot. Nor where holidaying meant actually relaxing, or in this case, doing anything to stop my nerves about the snow from causing a full body break down.

The afternoon welcome meeting was an awkward affair. Four of us gathered round a table with complimentary alcoholic drinks and three of us tried very hard not to slap the man beside me.
'Where can Alice meet some people her own age?' my mother asked.
'Hey, Eassy Tiger, Eaaassyyy Tiger!' Said the scouser man.

I took a sip of my complimentary red wine.
'Is that nice?'
'Yes' I quipped; a blunt answer would do nicely.
'Can I have a sip?'
I paused for effect. 'Naa' I muttered, hiding my very British disgust at such a request.

Later in the evening, we wandered over to a bar called Black Tiger where I met a group of heavy drinkers from Cardiff and a family. I joined the drinkers from Cardiff for a round of Ring of Fire and got coerced into Karaoke by a rep. We sang Man, I Feel Like A Woman by Shania Twain. I accidentally promised to take part in a bar crawl the next night.

Already this is not quite the adventure I expected.

I Went Ice Skating and It Was Terrifying

Picture the scene. The aromas of mulled wine fill the December evening air as families, friends and lovers gather by Winchester Cathedral to pore over local arts and crafts on sale for Christmas, to feast on seasonal food, to bask under the glow of the twinkling lights and decorations, to glide elegantly on an ice rink.
Elegant? Oh please, I could not say the same for myself and it was raining.
Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed the Christmas spirit of the night and appreciated the atmosphere. I just don't think I added to the ambience, because as soon as I stepped onto the ice, I was terrified and internally screaming.

"Yes I'll go Ice Skating" I said.
"I haven't been ice skating in years and the first time I tried it, I broke my wrist"... I also yelped before I tumbled towards my fate.

After my first step onto wet ice, I gripped the side until my hands turned blue. I giggled manically and considered that I may be on the verge of a near-death experience. I pictured my fingers being sliced off by a more skilled skater than I, unaware that I had just sent myself sprawling across the slippery surface due to sheer lack of skill or perhaps just clumsiness.

Still, my behind never touched the freezing surface, though my heart never ceased to beat as though I was on the set of Jaws. *DA-DUM DA-DUM*

Each time I felt myself begin to lose balance, my gut tightened and my arms were flailing as though I was doing a drunken version of the Macarena. I was lifted to safety by the hands of an Angel in a high-vis jacket. The Jaws theme began again in my head as I gaped at other skaters, amazed they couldn't hear it too - all the while manically giggling.

I'd like to say I eventually found my feet, but I used the pouring rain as an excuse to make a swift exit, or rather a clumsy and tentative exit. Due to the cold, I'd have made a better Rudolph than a Snow Queen. How do some people make it look so effortless? I secretly hoped that no-one really knew what they were doing. Some people are just better at making it look like they know than others.

If my plummeting confidence had, instead, sky-rocketed, perhaps my skating technique would not be so comical as it would be impressive. Is this a metaphor for life or a simple anecdote displaying my attitude to extreme sport? Take from this what you will.

Expect The Unexpected

Dressed in a Pikachu onesie, at a service station, asking for money and a lift, for the second time this year, I erase all expectations. This time I am making my way out of Southampton rather than into the city for charity and once again I try to leave myself open to all kinds of possibilities. If I expect anything at all, it should be the unexpected.

This is why my team, Jailbreak Journos, got into a car with an IT consultant who blasted out Christian Rock from an internet radio station. This is why we got into a car with three girls from Leeds who liked to play 'the market game'. We were impressed. 

"I went to market and I bought a yoga mat, a tub of white paint, a lawnmower, a foxtrot, David Beckham's autobiography, Adele's new album, a cabbage, a rabbit hutch...."

Sleeping overnight in a travel lodge and meeting some fascinating personalities on the way, we found ourselves in Edinburgh with a few measly layers and our enthusiasm to keep us warm. The icy breeze numbed our legs enough for us to make it to the top of Calton Hill and, despite missing the fireworks we had a beautiful view of the city skyline in the 7pm darkness. The view from Edinburgh castle was magnificent. Having only ever been to Edinburgh during the Fringe festival, the city's atmosphere contrasted to my previous experience. It still filled my very veins with a surge of excitement. After 30 hours of travelling, the city rewarded me. I didn't care about the cold. I cared about the adventure.

Realistically we would not have made it to the Scottish capital without the help of those who drove us and especially the last couple: A Dutch man and a German-Mexican woman who were driving from Leeds to Edinburgh. We had no luck with lorry drivers, so I had no idea where we were going or when. Little did I know three days beforehand that I'd take a tour around London at 5am on Monday morning and find myself back in Southampton by midday. I've never needed the toilet so much in my life, speed walking down Pall Mall with near frostbite and a full bladder.

I think part of what made the trip was how spontaneous each new event was. It was as though I was in a novel and each time we got into a new car or made a decision, it was another plot twist. You don't know who's car you're getting into. Using my gut instinct to guide me in the right direction, I was able to feel the thrill without putting myself in any danger. Free coffees and chocolate helped too - basic human kindness.

Last May I took part in Lost 99. Our challenge was to hitchhike back from Rugby to Southampton (99 Miles) within in a day whilst completing challenges along the way. A mere few hours landed us proposing to a middle aged woman at a service station, and at the top of a ferris wheel by 3pm. Expecting the unexpected we managed to win the competition, reducing our time to under an hour by completing the challenges.

I learned to appreciate change of scenery and plot twists. I let the current of adventure carry me out into the blue. I knew everything would be okay.

How To Lose Control

Finger tapping on the desktop. Tap, tap, tap. It feels as though each tap wastes a little more time, a little more life, a little more buzz. I picture myself as one of the sisters from The Virgin Suicides - a kind of entrapment. I have only been in my house, on my own, for a few hours. I haven't got plans for the rest of the day. The clock ticks and I picture blank space, blank time. One of the most exciting things in the world is a blank page. Or it should be.

A gust of wind picks up a few autumn leaves and I try to grab every one. I grab opportunities, plant seeds, find roots. Deep breath.

I realised I am energised by opportunities and interactions, motivated more by doing things, seeing people. In a way, perhaps I should feel less guilty for doing nothing. People don't do nothing enough. I find it hard enough to sit down with a book for too long without feeling the need to check my phone for notifications. The world can wait.

I find it hard enough to watch a film all the way through without being tempted by the flashing light of a notification from my handset. Sitting my way through a lecture, a conversation with a friend, reading a magazine, doing one thing at a time; why is that so hard? It becomes the pinnacle of multitasking. Always doing.

I repeat, the world can wait.

I admit, I use social media too much. I wait at the keyboard, scroll down the feed/timeline/dashboard in wait of the next notification, the next distraction, the next thing I can add to my to do list. Scrolling time could be used for reading, working, relaxing. Yet, as I do one thing, my thoughts turn to another.
I want to relax but I should work. I stress so I should relax - nothing gets done. If I never relax, if I multi task constantly, if I remain on the ball all the time then everything will get done, surely.
So I wait for that notification, the next thing on my to do list that will take priority before my essay. Filling up my to do list to avoid the last thing I prioritised.

Blank spaces should not limit me. I should not be discouraged by them but enthralled, fascinated. Let's just get lost and see where life takes me. Let the current guide me, because where I end up could be better than where I had planned to go. And because it's okay to do nothing.