Skiing in Goldeck

Daily Schedule

Monday 21.02.2011: We get to know us

09.15 o'clock: Halli, Hallo, Smiley is here and comes to breakfast.

09.30 o'clock: Information for kids and parents in the playing room on the ground floor.

10.30 o'clock: Are you ready? We have a walk and feed our rabbits. Then we will play in the garden. Have fun!

12.00 o'clock: Lunch with care in Smiley's food corner.

14.30 o'clock: Now it's magical! We make witches-stairs and put a funny head on it.

Smiley, the hotel mascot, leads the kids in dancing.

Today was the first day that the hotel offered full-day childcare, and Dennis and I figured, if we were going to abandon our children, this would probably be the best day to do it: the kids were enthusiastic about the hotel and happy to explore it without us.

Dennis and I sat in on the information session for the parents about child care, but we were a little shaky on the details.  They gave us a daily schedule for activities for the kids (above) and a little form to fill out for each, requesting three pieces of information: do your kids have allergies, what time do they nap, and is it okay if they run around the hotel grounds unsupervised?

Well, um...okay? We decided to check yes to that last box for Alex and Ella, figuring the kids couldn't get into too much trouble, and they'd be miserable if we made them stay in the creche all day.  And unsupervised didn't mean without care, we were assured...they'd still keep an eye on them and make sure they ate and so forth.  And the child-minders seemed more than confident that everything would be okay: as we left they were tromping across the street, bundled up, to feed the rabbits and then to play on the sledding hill.  See you at 5:30, kids!

Crossing our fingers that we wouldn't pay for this later, Dennis and I gathered our ski clothes and waited outside for the Postbus to Goldeck, the closest of the three ski resorts.

As I understand it, the post bus system is now unique to Europe, but in its naissance, the US Postal system ran a similar service.  Neatly combining mail delivery and public transport, the bus system is run by the postal service and generally serves rural areas (although you can travel by post anywhere in downtown Zurich, and the most convenient stop to Google is actually a Post Bus stop).  We explained that we wanted to go to Goldeck, and the driver plopped us off at the Bahnhopf in Spittal and told us to follow the signs.

Dennis and I love a treasure hunt, so, stranded in the train station, we happily started to look for those signs, and finally found one with a picture of a gondola. (Nothing seems too hard when you don't have three kids trailing after you.) Following them about a mile along the train tracks, we finally spotted the wires for the gondola up the mountain and a little sport rental hut.  We couldn't believe the prices: rentals for the day were only 15 euro each, although the ski pass was more expensive, at about 25 euro each.  We were doubly lucky that the prices were so inexpensive, as credit cards weren't accepted.  They only take cash on the mountaintop, too, we were warned.  But the closest bank was in the center of town, well over a mile's walk back, so we decided to just go for it and eat cheaply for the day.

The gondola ride was very similar to the one down the side of Ütliberg: we bounced and jerked up the side of the mountain.  But oh, it was pretty when we got to the top. Can you believe it, we kept asking each other.  We're skiing! In the Alps!

But I soon started to realize that, maybe, I had no business skiing in the Alps.

Although Goldeck advertises itself as being the sunniest sports mountain in Carinthia, we could scarcely see 20 meters ahead of ourselves.  And, since it was a Monday, the slopes were almost abandoned.  We may have seen three dozen other skiiers out there, all day long.  The best we could do was stay close to the lift lines. Dennis played it cool, but I was nervous, being a natural-born chicken. And we were particularly concerned about navigation, because if we took a wrong turn, we were warned, we'd end up, with no exit, on the longest black slope in Europe.

There wasn't much of a view from the arial lift, however.

But, as always happens, I got my ski-legs and started to have fun after a half an hour.  Although, I have to admit, riding the t-bar back up the mountain might have been my favorite part.  So pretty.

Alone on a mountain

If being out without the kids made us feel ten years younger, then eating lunch on a budget took us back to our teens.  The twelve Euros we had left weren't going to stretch far, it turned out, especially with Dennis's little caffeine addiction to feed.  So we counted out or coins and split a hot dog and french fries plate, and then cut a Snickers bar in half with a knife.  The kind lady at the counter, seeing our desperation, forgave us the three Euros for our tap water. But still, isn't amazing how good food tastes when you've been out in the fresh air?

Dennis wasn't too impatient with me when, at the end of the day, a 20 Euro note fluttered out of my pocket as I searched through the flotsam for a map.  Sigh. We could have had a hot dog plate, each! Classic Cheryl.

We did have a wonderful time in the end, sticking strictly to blue and red slopes.  Here, the slopes are ranked blue, red, and black, and it seems the difficulty of the slope was only an indication of
steepness. The reds weren't bad at all, especially since the slopes were wide and there wasn't a soul out there to bump into.

We caught one of the last gondolas down the mountain, and we were pressed cheek-to-jowl with the other passengers. But after it was over, we were rewarded with that exquisit feeling of taking off our ski boots and putting on our real shoes.  That part might be better than the ski lift, even.

We looked around Spittal for a little bit before going home (the Post Buses are infrequent) and managed to find a bank. We needed quite a lot, as its actually quite hard to find any place that takes credit.  Our hotel in Salzburg wouldn't, and neither does the Kinderhotel, and so we need to pay cash for an entire week's stay.

Back at the hotel, we snuck up to our room to drop off our coats before going to fetch the kids, and were surprised to find Joey, alone and asleep in his crib.  Since it was almost dinner, we woke him up. Reassuringly, just as we were leaving down the stairs, one of the creche workers came dashing out of the elevator to our room.  They'd been listening to him on the baby monitor, after all, and I suppose it makes sense for him to have napped in his crib, rather than the noisy nursery.

A doll made of witches stairs and a funny head?

Ella and Alex were in fine form when we picked them up.  They'd spent the day playing and weaving bracelets, and, yes making witch's stairs and putting a funny head on it.  Ella said that she had spent the entire day feeling guilty, though, because she'd snapped at Alex in the morning even though she'd promised that she'd been nice. But the creche worker said the kids had been great, although they didn't eat much at lunch.

They certainly ate well at dinner, though, and Ella, our picky one, even had several pieces of turkey.  Their friends George and Lucus had spent the day skiing, but, fueled by ice cream,  they had plenty of energy for an hour of tag.

During dinner, Alex looked thoughtfully at a little trifold on our table.  It had a picture of a little kid, beaming, on skis between his mother and father.  "Mom? Dad? This picture says that it's fun for little kids to ski.  Can I try skiing tomorrow?" Ah, the power of advertising.  And of course Ella, being Ella, will absolutely not allow Alex to outdo her.  It looks like we'll have some company tomorrow!