My tale(s) of extreme violence in ski resorts (for what it’s worth) . . 1 of 3
True Story No.1 - Alpe d'Heuz circa 2004/5
For whatever reason I'd witnessed blatant ski theft already on this trip - sitting at a bar in town (I cannot remember which) a white van pulled up and two guys simply and overtly 'emptied' the adjacent ski rack (in about 2mins) of everything and drove off! Incredible . . . . . . .
Anyway, this particular trip I had a brand new pair of Rossignol B2 Bandits hot from the factory; I was in my 'prime' at 32 yrs and with my first child imminent this was to be my last lads trip in a while. I was in a big queue for whatever bubble lift (4person max) and there was a guy helping people (who was not in uniform but seemed to be a liftie / helping the lifties) put their skis in the racks to presumably speed up the process / be helpful and keep the queue moving efficiently . . .or so I thought.
When I got to the front of the queue (I was on my own) three people got in before me and whilst he assisted the first he seemed to ignore the other two and made a beeline for me. With a smile he ‘grabbed’ by skis out of my hands (initially I assumed he was simply helping me) but then pushed me backwards as hard as he could into the bubble car (it was close to completing its circuit and the doors would be closing imminently) and I flew backwards into the bubble doorway. It became apparent that his plan was that I would be travelling upwards ‘sans skis’ and that he would be the proud new owner of a pair of B2’s . . .either that or he just didn’t like the look of my handsome face and felt I deserved knocking down a peg or two with my fancy new planks . . I will never actually know.
What neither he (nor myself for that matter) had considered was my apparent latent ninja capabilities and how quick your brain can work when under duress. I spread my arms as I ‘fell’ backwards (to stop myself falling in to the car) and in the same movement and with all my force ‘sprang’ back from the doorway with my right arm coiled to flatten him. Irrespective of his intentions I’m not the type to let randoms push me about for zero reason, let alone on a ski holiday ffs; they’re certainly not going to rob me in public (unless they’ve got a large knife / glock!) Tbf my punch was a little off target – it missed his chin and hit him in the upper chest; suffice to say at 6’1” and with a few feral teenage years of experience behind me it had the desired effect and he fell on his back bottom. I picked up my skis and stood over him shouting as many expletives as I could, much to the amusement / jeers of the pending queue. None of the ‘actual’ lifties did anything to either restrain him or placate me, so I simply and calmly put my skis in the next available bubble and travelled up solo. As the bubble travelled upwards I watched the offending felon slink off down the stairs past the queue. . . .never to be seen again!
great storyteller!
Well, the person's real but it's just a made up name, see?
Well, the person's real but it's just a made up name, see?
@eaglesandsnowboarding good thread
@Origen, how rude telling someone to bug off or perhaps that’s the norm sailing in Chichester harbour ?
True Story No.2 – Les Deux Alpes 2015
Roll on a decade and I was back in sunny France again, this time with 3x kids in tow (I’d been busy!) and their 2nd ever ski trip. The previous, first ever trip (to Wengen) had been a total disaster – my then 7yr old middle child had his leg broken in two places on day 2 by an 18stone out of control snowboarder who thought it might be a good idea to use the ski school poma lift que as a braking net; he was the unlucky section of net. . . . . . .although my ninja skills / testosterone levels had probably subsided by this juncture he was lucky that my other half was ‘at the scene’ and that I was over in Murren pretending to be a ski god. Tbf she is actually way more frightening than me but that’s another story; suffice to say they flew home the day after and I was left on my own with the other two!
Anyway – I’d already been to L2A a month prior on a solo trip to ‘suss out the hotel / ensure that everything was pukka’ (cough; that was my excuse to the other half anyway which was a half truth lol) primarily to ensure that my kids (my son especially) didn’t create a negative life-long picture of skiing. Things were going great, the hotel was directly on the beginners piste and I could watch them ski up and down from the adjacent bar balcony with zero worries . . .they were having fun which in my mind was a result!
It must have been on the 2nd day again (weirdly) a Sunday when all the weekenders from Marseille (or wherever) were still in resort. Without being discriminatory they were in general, fairly ‘visible’; ie. shabby 90’s skiwear with jackets open / jeans tucked into ski boots / no helmets and out of control skiing on the easiest slopes. This time I was in the lift que WITH both my son and my younger sister (a Neilson nanny / rep at the time) and we’d had great fun zipping up and down the baby slope together.
In a weird twist of fate and in a similar vein to the previous year, one of the denim clad demi-gods was making rather rapid headway to the que, his intent no doubt to create a newly learnt ‘hockey stop’ and spray his mates for amusement. In an attempt to pull off his audaciously rad move, he caught an edge and came flying towards both myself and my son (now 8yrs old) grabbing my son to stop him falling any further. Luckily, my son seemed to stay on his feet as the guy tipped over onto the deck but his rightful scream sent me into overdrive. I was on ‘instant’ alert and being honest the red mist came flying back; I’d never realized how powerful ones emotions can be when physically protecting your offspring from danger, let alone one that I’d failed to protect the year prior.
As he scrambled to get up I kicked my skis off and threw my poles to the side, again shouting english expletives at the top of my voice. The guy (about 30yrs old) and seemingly unaware of his sins got straight up and gave me back some verbal diarrhea of his own (in French of course) his chest puffed out full of ‘liassez faire’. Unbeknown to me, the weekenders ‘mate’ was in the que behind my sister . . .bigger and wider than myself / most normal men and seemingly ready to rumble he made his way forward to support his buddy. Being honest (and especially in front of my son) I SHOULD have simply gathered both him and my gear and walked away, but in truth I was in full SAS mode and would have taken on all-comers such was my emotional distress.
The hero of the day was my little sister; who having worked in resort for a few seasons was pretty bi-lingual . . . .a few swift words that probably included ‘putain’ or something similar and they miraculously calmed down instantaneously! If there was ever a lesson in learning the lingo properly (and not sniffing tippex thinners at the back of the classroom in double French at school) rather than squaring up this was it. I did feel a little stupid as they feebly apologized to my son and then slunk off back into the que and up the baby slope presumably to terrorize someone else’s kid . . . .whilst that was our ski day over the rest of the holiday remained boringly (!) uneventful and the kids had a great time . . . !
Anyway, snowHeads is much more fun if you do.
Anyway, snowHeads is much more fun if you do.
Not punch ups but two very close ones. Once for me and the other for Jnr.
My one, I was leaving a restaurant and picked up my skis from the rack. A young lad (20 possibly) came running out and grabbed my skis off me. I thought he was trying to steal my skis so I didn’t let go. I asked him what he was doing and he just tried to pull the skis out of my hand. After a few more seconds I was about to just lift my skis into his face to shock him when my stepson walked out and shouted at him at the same time as one of his mates walked out and shouted at him. Turns out he thought I was stealing his brand new orange Dynastars and couldn’t tell them apart from my old and battered orange Rossignols.
The other one wasn’t me, but my stepson. He was at Landgraaf training. He used to guide a visually impaired skier training and racing. He was very protective of his skier and anyone visually impaired in their training group. A freestyler training skied between him and his skier causing his skier to lose sight of him and fall. My stepson pulled over the freestyler to tell him to be more careful - look out for the hi-viz etc… The freestyler didn’t like it and offered my stepson outside - the other guy clearly thought that my stepson only looked big in his skis because when he stepped off his skis and said, “OK let’s go outside.” The other guy backed down and ran off. The problem was that they were both on training camps and both staying at the Landgraaf hotel. After a day of my stepson making the other guy feel awkward the freestylers coach made him go up to my stepson and his skier and apologise. My stepson was 16 (6’ 4” and around 100kg) at the time and the other guy was well in his 20s.
True Story No.3 – Morzine 2022
Fast forward to more recent times and with the kids now perma-hungry teenagers and more interested in being nowhere near their ageing parent(s) let alone go skiing with them on a cheap(ish) short trip, Morzine had become the new ‘middle aged’ d(l)ads venue of choice (not my choice I might add but when outvoted, conveniently close / cheap and with decent skiing in Avoriaz and a selection of bars to re-live our misspent youth in etc)
As a group of late 40/50 something’s we were frequenting the usual haunts and after eating in our favourite ‘meat sweat’ restaurant (can never remember the name but they serve up a delicious meal of flambéed rare red meat on a rack with dripping fat over a bowl of rice) we made our way to the Cavern Bar for more well deserved medicine.
It was rammed and there was a younger than usual crowd in there; but as ever, a lack of females meant a very ‘laddy’ atmosphere that was soon to turn sour. A couple of 30 something (maybe this is telling!) English lads were very drunk and it was obvious they were more interested in trying to get a reaction from someone. . . .pathetic tbf but that’s angry drunks who probably can’t ski for you! The larger of the two had already had some words with one of our gang, swiftly followed by an attempt to wind yours truly up with an innocuous comment about my well sculpted nose of all things. I responded with an equally childish ‘ginger’ gag (the guy had a full red snowboarder-tastic beard and full tattooed sleeves) but it transpired this didn’t go down as well as I’d expected. His face going red and me laughing at the ridiculousness of it all didn’t help either . . .
Luckily one of our crew (who is the least lairy looking 40 something in the world; albeit wiry and unfeasibly strong to those who don’t know him and with a vaguely dubious past) sheparded me away and we retired to the ‘other’ side of the bar to find some peace and amuse ourselves with teenage banter. Unfortunately however (about half an hour later) the ginger protagonist appeared again; this time demanding his rightful place at the front of the bar, putting his arm around said wiry mate to forcibly remove him out of the way.
Now again I am seriously not condoning this and it’s weird as ski holidays to me historically mean a combined joy of all things skiing celebrated by an all-in / jolly evening après p*ss up that is inclusive of all ages / genders / nationalities / shapes & sizes . . . not in this instance. My wiry mate had simply had enough and in a single move reminiscent of a James Bond / Jason Bourne flick rotated his body and put the offending beardy twerp into a head lock, forcing his face/nose into the bar whilst holding his arm behind his back. The guy screamed out in pain like a throttled rat but within seconds was simply led to the exit and removed from the delightful establishment and into the cool night air. The bouncers actually shook my mates hand (being honest they should have sorted the idiots out prior) and we continued our evening into the small hours laughing at our good fortune but already planning the next lads trip somewhere more civilized . . . . . .
’Viva la difference!’ . . . . . .not. Let’s hope Tignes next week has a more chilled vibe . . .
Then you can post your own questions or snow reports...
Then you can post your own questions or snow reports...
Lots of Billy Big Balls posters on this thread. Pics, or it didn’t happen. Can you not see that the OP was trying to get you to tell these regrettable tales (and succeeding)?
After all it is free
After all it is free
telford_mike wrote:
Big Balls
Mine were a fairly average size after the hand job behind the snow making shed
You'll get to see more forums and be part of the best ski club on the net.
You'll get to see more forums and be part of the best ski club on the net.
never on the slopes but I did have to defuse a nasty situation in a Shoreditch strip bar once, with the assistance of a colleague who'd been a Finnish national ice hockey goalie
Ski the Net with snowHeads
Ski the Net with snowHeads
@telford_mike, Obviously . . . . but if a tales vaguely worth telling to broaden the interest on this site then whatever! As for taking pics of altercations; we're not gang members looking to up our rep in the hood by posting tic-tocs online are we?
snowHeads are a friendly bunch.
snowHeads are a friendly bunch.
hang11 wrote:
I got a hand job behind the snowmaking shed once
Oh, you've met red27 then .... currently making themselves look like a wnaker over on the Val d Isere thread
And love to help out and answer questions and of course, read each other's snow reports.
And love to help out and answer questions and of course, read each other's snow reports.
jedster wrote:
T Bar wrote:
@Bob,
He certainly wasn't perfect but once you get the door shut like that it can be tough, if he was a skier he'd probably have avoided the crash with a couple of pole clicks.
Lower skier should probably have had a bit better situational awareness.
Hope they weren't hurt and they both learn from it.
No way!
Tongue was maybe slightly in my cheek.
So if you're just off somewhere snowy come back and post a snow report of your own and we'll all love you very much
So if you're just off somewhere snowy come back and post a snow report of your own and we'll all love you very much
No fisticuffs but 2 altercations .
1)A guy in our group in a very crowed lift que got into a very heated/shouting debate about Brexit .
2) No one fell over but there was a bit of a coming together getting off the chair lift .My brother who's a very gentle quiet man got a bit tangled up with another guy getting off the chair lift , no ones fault as far as i could see but my brother just said sorry in a typical British way but the guy wouldn't drop it . After my brother said sorry for the 5th time , I got a tad pissed off and stepped in and asked him what does he want us to do as my brother had said sorry multiple times , he kept going on so i politely told him what i was going to do with my ski pole if he didn't back off .Luckily for both of us his wife managed to usher him away .
You know it makes sense.
You know it makes sense.
Quote:
i politely told him what i was going to do with my ski pole if he didn't back off
tappity-tap them together?
Otherwise you'll just go on seeing the one name:
Otherwise you'll just go on seeing the one name:
Hurtle wrote:
I'm not really built for a fist fight, but my basilisk stare and a carefully worded threat of legal action usually work OK. Unfortunately, the only foreign language in which I can deploy the latter is French.
Are you Paddington Bear in disguise?
Poster: A snowHead
Poster: A snowHead
@Richard_Sideways,
Obviously A snowHead isn't a real person
Obviously A snowHead isn't a real person
@Sfellows,
Quote:
Are you Paddington Bear in disguise?
er...not far off the same size and shape...
Well, the person's real but it's just a made up name, see?
Well, the person's real but it's just a made up name, see?
@Hurtle, I believe yes, it works in multiple contexts, of which whore is the literal translation (eg. fils de put, if I remember correctly). Either way, I imagine the point would be well made
Tbh here's a conversation I never imagined having this week
@telford_mike, Obviously . . . . but if a tales vaguely worth telling to broaden the interest on this site then whatever! As for taking pics of altercations; we're not gang members looking to up our rep in the hood by posting tic-tocs online are we?
Then you can post your own questions or snow reports...
Then you can post your own questions or snow reports...
Had a young German lad try to wind me up and get me to bite by 'discussing' Brexit at me last month in Solden. I took the wind out of his sails by agreeing with every (quite valid) point he made. He ended up calming down and buying me a beer, which I reciprocated. You don't need any bar aggro on (IMHO) the best, most enjoyable type of holiday you can have.
After all it is free
After all it is free
@MajorQ, I met three Germans (Dad / 35yr old lad / gnarly leather faced mate) at the Sporthotel Alpin bar in Zell the other week; had a great laugh buying rounds of jagers and attempting to speak the lingo with a daft accent - they took the p*ss out of Brexit and I did mention ze war which they thought was hilarious; also discussed the infamous 'dinner for one' that they watch on telly obsessively every new year . . .still didn't get a salient explanation as to why they love it so much but by that stage it didn't matter . . .
You'll get to see more forums and be part of the best ski club on the net.
You'll get to see more forums and be part of the best ski club on the net.
Hurtle wrote:
@Bluntski, putain actually means whore.
Interestingly, if you put "putain" in Google translate, it comes back with whore. But if you put "f**k" in, it comes back with putain.
@Je suis un Skieur, and she looks so...ladylike! I learned quite a few naughty French expressions as a child, but my vocabulary was expanded considerably by watching Engrenages (Spiral). The English subtitles were decidedly sanitized, though.
snowHeads are a friendly bunch.
snowHeads are a friendly bunch.
@Hurtle, elle est fabuleuse!
And love to help out and answer questions and of course, read each other's snow reports.
And love to help out and answer questions and of course, read each other's snow reports.
A lot of French swearing can be stacked up to magnify itself. My wife became quite expert at this when she worked terrace service (and breakfast and dinner) in Morzine many years ago, used to be able to hold her own with anyone.
"espece de cochon de putain de merde" sort of thing always sounds brilliant, along with the appropriate hand gestures.
So if you're just off somewhere snowy come back and post a snow report of your own and we'll all love you very much
So if you're just off somewhere snowy come back and post a snow report of your own and we'll all love you very much
Chaletbeauroc wrote:
A lot of French swearing can be stacked up to magnify itself. My wife became quite expert at this when she worked terrace service (and breakfast and dinner) in Morzine many years ago, used to be able to hold her own with anyone.
Nelly explains this with examples, but she does caution her students against trying it.
I wonder, do we have any Québecois[es] on snowHeads?
You know it makes sense.
You know it makes sense.
@Chaletbeauroc,
Quote:
espece de cochon de putain de merde
Otherwise you'll just go on seeing the one name:
Otherwise you'll just go on seeing the one name:
Actually if they'd had French swearing lessons like that at school I think I may have become much better at the language.
FAQ
Poster: A snowHead
My stepson was 16 (6’ 4” and around 100kg) at the time and the other guy was well in his 20s.
