Terrifying Snow Odyssey Mach 3: New Zealand
I've been having a rough spell so hopefully some blogging will be cathartic.
So, the trip to NZ was the whole point of the Terrifying Snow Odyssey. Wonderboyf, his brother and friends all went to NZ for a week at the snow last yer and had a great time. I heard many stories of the sow and the time spent in Queenstown, so I had good reason to look forward to it. I've also been burning the candle at both ends in a work sense so was really looking forward to a holiday.
We had an overnight trip to Melbourne which had been taking up a bunch of my brain space. I had an email a couple of weeks earlier saying there had been a change to our flights. A week before we left I double checked and realised they'd changed not just the time, but the DAY of our flight and we were flying out a day earlier. I freaked out and rang and it was all confusing and they changed it back even though the original flight had been cancelled. But while on hold, Wonderboyf and I discussed it and figured being in NZ one day early would be a welcome addition, so I rang and had it changed back. Then a day or two before out NZ flight I got a call asking for volunteers to fly with a different carrier for whatever reason, we said yes, what's another flight change, eh?
So Saturday morning rolled around and we flew out to Queenstown. Well, sort of. We got to the airport and got through ticketing etc no worries. Cleared customs and security screening, and just got to the random bomb testing (apparently Wonderboyf has a strange ability to be asked for a random screening on most trips). As the security officer was about to feed the sample in to the machine, the lights went out. All of them, in the entire Airport. Yeah, we were stuck in a massive, International Airport wide blackout for over an hour. Unable to leave, unable to do anything, it was a tad frustrating. While we definitely missed the boarding time, it wasn't a big problem, because no flights could leave due to the black out. So we were only about 2 hours late.
Here we were thinking that was going to be the big disaster of the trip. And as we came in to land, it all started going horribly wrong. I came down with what I'd thought was a cold on Friday night. Saturday morning I figured it was actually allergies and started medicating accordingly. I was horribly stuffed up and as a result, my ear did not equalize on the way down to land. I don't have words to explain the pain and discomfort, not to mention the distress. I know what my ears are like, if they get blocked up, they'll be infected within 24 hours and that would mean no snow for me. So we arrived at our hotel, dumped our stuff and headed straight out for the Medical Centre where we sat around until I could be seen for the princely sum of $204. And then we went and bought all the drugs I was prescribed, had a cheap pub dinner so I could take said drugs and then headed back to the hotel where I went to bed in miser and pain. Way to start a holiday.
So long story short, I had lots of drugs to take 3 times a day. The ear did clear (mostly but never quite completely) a couple of hours after getting back to the hotel. But then going up and down the mountains every day recreated the problem on the trip home each day. No matter how much I tried, I had huge problems making it pop. I eventually invested in 'earplanes' which you see advertised n the back of airport toilet doors. They seemed to work for the most part thankfully.
So, how about the actual snow? With the benefit of hindsight, let's say it was good. We went to Coronet Peak on the first day and our daily routine was established. We arrive at the snowfield, we all but lift passes, I buy a morning group lesson and then we all meet for lunch after my lesson finished. Wonderboyf and I often hit the slopes after lunch as he's sussed out where I would and wouldn't be comfortable skiing.... did i mention how wonderful he is?
My first lesson, the french instructor tried to assure me that I could totally join a level 5 class. After a bit of hesitation and rethinking, I volunteered to drop down to a level 4 as I really didn't think I was at level 5 standard. I was right and was super glad I'd made that decision early on. Every day's lesson was a little bit different - different instructors, different snow field, different focus for the group and level of ability. It meant that each da i did work on something different. So my first lesson was with James, and English chap who was quite nice. I had explained my history so that he wouldn't be blind sided if I freaked out. The lesson was pretty good, and about half way through I had a big stack - first one in 11 years and the first once since my accident. Had a small personal meltdown. Struggled back up on to my feet, with some help from the others in the class. So generally it was ok. Worked on a bunch of stuff and my feet did go dead a bit. The skiing in the afternoon was ok, but I was tired and ended up having a nap in the cafe in the afternoon and then getting stuck on a shuttle that didn't actually take me to the car. *doofus moment*
The second day we went to Cardrona, which would turn out to be my favourite snowfield. I had a really good lesson including going down a blue run which, when you looked back up it, was horrifyingly steep and intimidating. But we looked up at it from the bottom having just made it down. Wonderboyf took me back to that run that afternoon and we both really enjoyed it, though he is forever patient, leading off for me to follow and pausing periodically to make sure I was still ok and not too far behind. He was off ahead and out of sight when I heard a huge whooshing noise, a wave of snow engulfed me and my legs where whipped out from underneath me. But I didn't stop, no I slid for a bit down the hill on my back completely out of control and terrified. And then i remembered to roll over, hence making my skiis not facing down the hill and therefore I stopped. All of this happened in front of a ski instructor and her class of children. She lectured the out of control snowboarder about who has right of way on the slope ( the person downhill, aka, me) and made sure her class listened in. The snowboarder was apologetic and I was pretty shaken but ok. I got up and continued the rest of the way, finding Wonderboyf on my way and we stopped in at the cafe at the bottom of the slope for a hot chocolate. The feet hurt, the shins hurt and my toes would go to sleep occasionally.
Wednesday saw us head to the furthest snowfield Treble Cone a 90 min drive away. It had one green run and i did it twice. Once with my class, which was excruciatingly painful. The arches of my feet had obviously reached their limit and screamed with pain every time I tired to turn. And with Treble Cone having very steep and often narrow runs, even the green one was too much for me. I bailed on the class and sat down for an hour or so. Over lunch, Wonderboyf and I tried the green run again much to my frustration and the exact same result. Even walking to the toilet was painful I then spent the rest of the afternoon trying to sort out some kind of partial refund which was fraught with frustrationand a lot of waiting, misinformation and confusion. I finally got it all sorted out when it was time to leave. *sigh*
Thursday was a rest day and we went and had Thai massages of pain. OMG the pain. I'm sure it was good for me, but oh the pain.
Friday we headed back to Coronet Peak. My lesson was amusing in that the instructor was this little Japanese instructor who had that adorable chirpy Japanese English with lots of "OK's." In the afternoon Wonderboyf did take me to the other side of the mountain that I hadn't been to and we had a good time trying out some new (for me) runs. And he continued to be ludicrously patient with me.
Saturday was our last day on the slopes and we headed back to Cardrona. There had been snow over night and the day cleared to be bright and blue, and blustery as all hell. Like, gale force winds which were terrifying. I went for my lesson and the group was big. The group below us was smaller so the two groups did a bit of a trial run so the instructors could evaluate us. I was tired and the wind and conditions were daunting so I was naturally cautious. The instructor moved me down to the level 3 class, which was me and one other woman. I was perfectly happy with that option as I was tired, the weather was crazy and one of the girls in the level 4 class wanted to go do black runs - I say go for your life, I'd like to leave NZ with both knees in tact. The other woman in my class was not as advanced as me and was incredibly apologetic about holding me back. I told her it was fine and that actually it was a benefit to me to have 50% of the Instructor's attention and the time to actually work on technique without the speed or pace of a larger class. It was a good time to crystallise the many many tips I'd picked up over the 5 days of ski lessons and practice putting them in to action. In short, my turns to the left are pretty good now, my turns to the right are still problematic which is likely a combination of the left knee physically and mentally. Wonderboyf took me over to the other side of the mountain with the others and I got to ski some really nice runs, mind you most of the fresh snow had been blown away by the wind but I still had a really good afternoon. The weather was bad enough that heading back took nearly an hour, and i was exhausted so not overly desperate to do any further runs. At the time, every day on the snow was fraught with frustration, fear and not particularly fun. In hindsight, it was still a good experience, just not one of those memories full off laughter and smiles, often more nerves and concentration. But, by the last day i had the boots fitting well, feet not overly sore, shins coping with the pain and my toes even felt cold occasionally, instead of being completely numb.
As for the non-snow parts of the trip, we were a part of a group of 7 so there was lots of going to dinner and drinks. I felt like absolute crap for the first half of the trip. Lots of drugs and absolutely no desire to drink made me less than exciting company. We did go to a Sake Bar for Sake Bombs, which I refused to have on the basis of not liking beer and having not tried sake, I didn't really want to ruin it by sculling it in the aforementioned beer. We went out to World Bar one night and drank cocktails out of teapots, but the place was packed and htere was no where comfortable to sit and actually have a conversation with the others. Plus Wonderboyf was coming down with a cold so we headed home for an early night. There were tasty ribs one night too. And we went out to watch the Bledisloe Cup (is that the football game between Aus and NZ? NFI). That wasn't a great night, I hate football, we didn't have a plan about where to see it and I just got really frustrated. Me being hungry and trying to find a pub to eat in on one of the busiest nights in the football year, recipe for a cranky KT. Thankfully, they all crammed in one corner to see the screen, so I stretched out, laying down on the cushioned bench seat playing games on Wonderboyf's iPhone. Oh, the dinner was pretty good when it arrived. God I hate football.
On our last day, before flying home, since we had not done anything very active or adventurous in Queenstown apart from the snow and a painful massage, i demanded Wonderboyf take me out to experience some of the Queenstown experiences. We took a ride on the Shotover Jet Boat which was very fun, I giggled every time we did a 360. It was cool, but not particularly hair raising. Then we went a little further up the Shotover Canyon and jumped off a cliff. Literally. We did the Canyon Swing, tell you what, willing yourself to jump off a perfectly good platform is beyond description. I think I'd like to do it again sometime, or something similar. But In the mean time i did buy the photos and video to prove that I did it. it was a very exhilarating experience. It's on my facebook, I can put it here at a later date.
Then it was time to rush back to our accommodation and get the shuttle to the airport. I took advantage of the NZ dollar and duty free with some perfume, Chambord and NZ Vodka... mmmmm. We flew back via Brisbane. I was cocky, or maybe hopeful that hopefully my ears might be sorted. Fail. I didn't use the earplanes early enough so they didn't really work properly (oh and you're only supposed to use them for 2 flights, not multiple snow trips and then a couple of flights) so I was back in pain and frustration land. Wonderboyf is a patient and forgiving man who made my trip possible in horrible circumstances. Thankfully he was gracious enough to let me change our plans and catch a taxi home to my place instead of the train to his place. i paid for the taxi and drove him home the next morning.
So a bit of a mixed bag of a trip. I'm not against going back to the snow, I just have to accept that it's a long, slow and really frustrating process for me personally and that I look physically fine to everyone else - they can't see all the things going on under the surface. There's another snow trip to Perisher in a fortnight and I've gone form being a definite to a maybe, whether I have enough stamina to go through another, albeit shorter process of frustration and isolation this snow season remains to be seen.
I should proof read this, it's long, but it's late and I don't think I care about typos and making sure it's all "right"
So, the trip to NZ was the whole point of the Terrifying Snow Odyssey. Wonderboyf, his brother and friends all went to NZ for a week at the snow last yer and had a great time. I heard many stories of the sow and the time spent in Queenstown, so I had good reason to look forward to it. I've also been burning the candle at both ends in a work sense so was really looking forward to a holiday.
We had an overnight trip to Melbourne which had been taking up a bunch of my brain space. I had an email a couple of weeks earlier saying there had been a change to our flights. A week before we left I double checked and realised they'd changed not just the time, but the DAY of our flight and we were flying out a day earlier. I freaked out and rang and it was all confusing and they changed it back even though the original flight had been cancelled. But while on hold, Wonderboyf and I discussed it and figured being in NZ one day early would be a welcome addition, so I rang and had it changed back. Then a day or two before out NZ flight I got a call asking for volunteers to fly with a different carrier for whatever reason, we said yes, what's another flight change, eh?
So Saturday morning rolled around and we flew out to Queenstown. Well, sort of. We got to the airport and got through ticketing etc no worries. Cleared customs and security screening, and just got to the random bomb testing (apparently Wonderboyf has a strange ability to be asked for a random screening on most trips). As the security officer was about to feed the sample in to the machine, the lights went out. All of them, in the entire Airport. Yeah, we were stuck in a massive, International Airport wide blackout for over an hour. Unable to leave, unable to do anything, it was a tad frustrating. While we definitely missed the boarding time, it wasn't a big problem, because no flights could leave due to the black out. So we were only about 2 hours late.
Here we were thinking that was going to be the big disaster of the trip. And as we came in to land, it all started going horribly wrong. I came down with what I'd thought was a cold on Friday night. Saturday morning I figured it was actually allergies and started medicating accordingly. I was horribly stuffed up and as a result, my ear did not equalize on the way down to land. I don't have words to explain the pain and discomfort, not to mention the distress. I know what my ears are like, if they get blocked up, they'll be infected within 24 hours and that would mean no snow for me. So we arrived at our hotel, dumped our stuff and headed straight out for the Medical Centre where we sat around until I could be seen for the princely sum of $204. And then we went and bought all the drugs I was prescribed, had a cheap pub dinner so I could take said drugs and then headed back to the hotel where I went to bed in miser and pain. Way to start a holiday.
So long story short, I had lots of drugs to take 3 times a day. The ear did clear (mostly but never quite completely) a couple of hours after getting back to the hotel. But then going up and down the mountains every day recreated the problem on the trip home each day. No matter how much I tried, I had huge problems making it pop. I eventually invested in 'earplanes' which you see advertised n the back of airport toilet doors. They seemed to work for the most part thankfully.
So, how about the actual snow? With the benefit of hindsight, let's say it was good. We went to Coronet Peak on the first day and our daily routine was established. We arrive at the snowfield, we all but lift passes, I buy a morning group lesson and then we all meet for lunch after my lesson finished. Wonderboyf and I often hit the slopes after lunch as he's sussed out where I would and wouldn't be comfortable skiing.... did i mention how wonderful he is?
My first lesson, the french instructor tried to assure me that I could totally join a level 5 class. After a bit of hesitation and rethinking, I volunteered to drop down to a level 4 as I really didn't think I was at level 5 standard. I was right and was super glad I'd made that decision early on. Every day's lesson was a little bit different - different instructors, different snow field, different focus for the group and level of ability. It meant that each da i did work on something different. So my first lesson was with James, and English chap who was quite nice. I had explained my history so that he wouldn't be blind sided if I freaked out. The lesson was pretty good, and about half way through I had a big stack - first one in 11 years and the first once since my accident. Had a small personal meltdown. Struggled back up on to my feet, with some help from the others in the class. So generally it was ok. Worked on a bunch of stuff and my feet did go dead a bit. The skiing in the afternoon was ok, but I was tired and ended up having a nap in the cafe in the afternoon and then getting stuck on a shuttle that didn't actually take me to the car. *doofus moment*
The second day we went to Cardrona, which would turn out to be my favourite snowfield. I had a really good lesson including going down a blue run which, when you looked back up it, was horrifyingly steep and intimidating. But we looked up at it from the bottom having just made it down. Wonderboyf took me back to that run that afternoon and we both really enjoyed it, though he is forever patient, leading off for me to follow and pausing periodically to make sure I was still ok and not too far behind. He was off ahead and out of sight when I heard a huge whooshing noise, a wave of snow engulfed me and my legs where whipped out from underneath me. But I didn't stop, no I slid for a bit down the hill on my back completely out of control and terrified. And then i remembered to roll over, hence making my skiis not facing down the hill and therefore I stopped. All of this happened in front of a ski instructor and her class of children. She lectured the out of control snowboarder about who has right of way on the slope ( the person downhill, aka, me) and made sure her class listened in. The snowboarder was apologetic and I was pretty shaken but ok. I got up and continued the rest of the way, finding Wonderboyf on my way and we stopped in at the cafe at the bottom of the slope for a hot chocolate. The feet hurt, the shins hurt and my toes would go to sleep occasionally.
Wednesday saw us head to the furthest snowfield Treble Cone a 90 min drive away. It had one green run and i did it twice. Once with my class, which was excruciatingly painful. The arches of my feet had obviously reached their limit and screamed with pain every time I tired to turn. And with Treble Cone having very steep and often narrow runs, even the green one was too much for me. I bailed on the class and sat down for an hour or so. Over lunch, Wonderboyf and I tried the green run again much to my frustration and the exact same result. Even walking to the toilet was painful I then spent the rest of the afternoon trying to sort out some kind of partial refund which was fraught with frustrationand a lot of waiting, misinformation and confusion. I finally got it all sorted out when it was time to leave. *sigh*
Thursday was a rest day and we went and had Thai massages of pain. OMG the pain. I'm sure it was good for me, but oh the pain.
Friday we headed back to Coronet Peak. My lesson was amusing in that the instructor was this little Japanese instructor who had that adorable chirpy Japanese English with lots of "OK's." In the afternoon Wonderboyf did take me to the other side of the mountain that I hadn't been to and we had a good time trying out some new (for me) runs. And he continued to be ludicrously patient with me.
Saturday was our last day on the slopes and we headed back to Cardrona. There had been snow over night and the day cleared to be bright and blue, and blustery as all hell. Like, gale force winds which were terrifying. I went for my lesson and the group was big. The group below us was smaller so the two groups did a bit of a trial run so the instructors could evaluate us. I was tired and the wind and conditions were daunting so I was naturally cautious. The instructor moved me down to the level 3 class, which was me and one other woman. I was perfectly happy with that option as I was tired, the weather was crazy and one of the girls in the level 4 class wanted to go do black runs - I say go for your life, I'd like to leave NZ with both knees in tact. The other woman in my class was not as advanced as me and was incredibly apologetic about holding me back. I told her it was fine and that actually it was a benefit to me to have 50% of the Instructor's attention and the time to actually work on technique without the speed or pace of a larger class. It was a good time to crystallise the many many tips I'd picked up over the 5 days of ski lessons and practice putting them in to action. In short, my turns to the left are pretty good now, my turns to the right are still problematic which is likely a combination of the left knee physically and mentally. Wonderboyf took me over to the other side of the mountain with the others and I got to ski some really nice runs, mind you most of the fresh snow had been blown away by the wind but I still had a really good afternoon. The weather was bad enough that heading back took nearly an hour, and i was exhausted so not overly desperate to do any further runs. At the time, every day on the snow was fraught with frustration, fear and not particularly fun. In hindsight, it was still a good experience, just not one of those memories full off laughter and smiles, often more nerves and concentration. But, by the last day i had the boots fitting well, feet not overly sore, shins coping with the pain and my toes even felt cold occasionally, instead of being completely numb.
As for the non-snow parts of the trip, we were a part of a group of 7 so there was lots of going to dinner and drinks. I felt like absolute crap for the first half of the trip. Lots of drugs and absolutely no desire to drink made me less than exciting company. We did go to a Sake Bar for Sake Bombs, which I refused to have on the basis of not liking beer and having not tried sake, I didn't really want to ruin it by sculling it in the aforementioned beer. We went out to World Bar one night and drank cocktails out of teapots, but the place was packed and htere was no where comfortable to sit and actually have a conversation with the others. Plus Wonderboyf was coming down with a cold so we headed home for an early night. There were tasty ribs one night too. And we went out to watch the Bledisloe Cup (is that the football game between Aus and NZ? NFI). That wasn't a great night, I hate football, we didn't have a plan about where to see it and I just got really frustrated. Me being hungry and trying to find a pub to eat in on one of the busiest nights in the football year, recipe for a cranky KT. Thankfully, they all crammed in one corner to see the screen, so I stretched out, laying down on the cushioned bench seat playing games on Wonderboyf's iPhone. Oh, the dinner was pretty good when it arrived. God I hate football.
On our last day, before flying home, since we had not done anything very active or adventurous in Queenstown apart from the snow and a painful massage, i demanded Wonderboyf take me out to experience some of the Queenstown experiences. We took a ride on the Shotover Jet Boat which was very fun, I giggled every time we did a 360. It was cool, but not particularly hair raising. Then we went a little further up the Shotover Canyon and jumped off a cliff. Literally. We did the Canyon Swing, tell you what, willing yourself to jump off a perfectly good platform is beyond description. I think I'd like to do it again sometime, or something similar. But In the mean time i did buy the photos and video to prove that I did it. it was a very exhilarating experience. It's on my facebook, I can put it here at a later date.
Then it was time to rush back to our accommodation and get the shuttle to the airport. I took advantage of the NZ dollar and duty free with some perfume, Chambord and NZ Vodka... mmmmm. We flew back via Brisbane. I was cocky, or maybe hopeful that hopefully my ears might be sorted. Fail. I didn't use the earplanes early enough so they didn't really work properly (oh and you're only supposed to use them for 2 flights, not multiple snow trips and then a couple of flights) so I was back in pain and frustration land. Wonderboyf is a patient and forgiving man who made my trip possible in horrible circumstances. Thankfully he was gracious enough to let me change our plans and catch a taxi home to my place instead of the train to his place. i paid for the taxi and drove him home the next morning.
So a bit of a mixed bag of a trip. I'm not against going back to the snow, I just have to accept that it's a long, slow and really frustrating process for me personally and that I look physically fine to everyone else - they can't see all the things going on under the surface. There's another snow trip to Perisher in a fortnight and I've gone form being a definite to a maybe, whether I have enough stamina to go through another, albeit shorter process of frustration and isolation this snow season remains to be seen.
I should proof read this, it's long, but it's late and I don't think I care about typos and making sure it's all "right"