A first trip ‘round the world, part 18

After being stuck two entire weeks on the boat, with bad weather and very rough seas to boot, we were delighted to see the sun again, as we cruised by Cape Town and its marvelous surroundings. 

The next day, a Wednesday that fell smack at the end of June, saw us reach our Durban stopover in South Africa. We all were antsy to finally set foot on land. 

Seen from the boat, the city was as modern as it was impressive. In 1971, it had a population of around 850,000, and the port of Durban was the largest in South Africa and the 4th largest in the entire southern hemisphere. This time, despite the return of the sun, the cooler air was marking the start of the southern winter. 

The population seemed quite diverse with many Indians who at the time counted for about one third, the other third being made up of blacks, while whites (mostly Brits) and other people of "color", who came from all over the Indian Ocean, accounted for the remaining third. 

Of course, we were still in the middle of apartheid with signs clearly differentiating "White Only" areas and those indicating the opposite "Colored Only". 

The second day, after receiving our per-diem payments in local Rands, we went out to explore the city and its market where both merchants and smells were overwhelmingly of Indian origin; we had bought hash of rather marginal quality which was offered to us all over the market, and that we eventually tried it on the boat. 

JP had previously smoked some in the United States while this was the first time for me, and since I wasn’t a smoker, the stuff only bothered my eyes and I dropped it on the spot. Hey, before I forget, Elon Musk was born in Pretoria, capital of South Africa, on June 28 1971, and was just on day old when we set foot in Durban. I could have flown to visit him and bring him a stuffed animal, it was only a one hour flight from there...

Although skiing, by now, was a very remote notion inside our heads, we were still great skiers at heart, and knew that it was possible to ski near where we were, in a mountainous ridge called the "Great Escarpment" with mountains reaching over 10,000 feet. 

The highest part was known as the Drakensberg range, with Peak Mafadi reaching 11,320 feet above sea level, next to the Lesotho border. This was long before the Tiffindell ski resort, located 310 miles or 7 hour drive from Durban, was established in 1993.

First (mini) post-pandemic concert

Last weekend, on Friday, we attended our first outdoor concert since the end of summer of 2019 and obviously, the entire pandemic. It was just a casual block party.

The band, “Silver King and Friends” made of locals we knew for the most part was fun to hear and played pretty good. We walked there, just one-third of mile, carrying our chairs and picnic, and had a wonderful time. 

The weather was cool and stayed nice. We met some folks we hadn’t seen in a long time, caught up with gossip and had a wonderful time. 

Little by little, life is getting back to “normal...”

What I believe…

From time to time, it’s good to state what we believe, write it down so we’re clear about it and can move forward more freely. This is especially true in these days of “fake everything” when truth get murky and we even wonder if it exists at all. So, here we go, let me take a shot at it…

• I believe that I didn’t exist before I was born and will cease to exist when I die. 
• I believe in good common sense, everyday, all the time. 
• I am not sure there is something that is God, but if there is, it has very little or nothing to do with what organized religion try to tell us. 
• I believe in something like the law of Karma, in other words, what goes around comes around. 
• I believe that human beings are all citizen of the earth, everyone is included and that we must leave enough room for the entire creation to breathe and live. Currently we don’t. 
• I believe that no country or community is better than another or is “chosen by God”. 
• I believe we’re extremely lucky to be alive and our passage on earth is the closest thing there is to being in paradise.

Colorado is taking a step back…

While Utah broke all records after a weird, challenging but highly successful Covid-19 season, Colorado didn’t fare nearly as well. It couldn’t not beat, let alone come close to its record-breaking 2018-2019 ski season and its 13.8 million skier-days, instead “reaching approximately 12 million”. 

This, to me, as I read through the lines, means that our neighbor state got less than that round 12 million number… 

Of course, late snow is blamed for this lackluster performance, as well as indirectly, without naming it specifically, Vail Resorts’ convoluted reservation system, that could only cost visitations without, in my opinion, impacting positively the pandemic. 

Finally, there are simply too many people who ski on Colorado slopes and the users are starting to be fed up, and are voting not with their feet, but with their alpine randonnée gear.

I no longer want to go to Hell!

I used to joke that my favorite destination upon death would be Hell over Heaven, because I believe all the fun people humanity has ever known will end up there. 

This was until June 13, when even Park City began to fry under a sun that should be outlawed in our pristine mountain community! It was hot, so hot in fact that we had to run the A/C in the house. 

We normally hardly ever use air conditioning during July or August, but at that point it was a matter of barbecuing ourselves alive.

This made me think in a hurry that Hell wasn’t the place for us. Instead, I’m now considering Iceland, if there’s still room for me and my wife there. 

If not we’ll move to Jackson Hole, but what an expensive place that one is! Aug 1 2011

Adventures in 5 G

Following the horrible servitude of dial-up internet in the mid nineties, we graduated to DSL service in 1998. This, for us, was a revolution! 

I must admit that we have stayed with that technology to this very day, hoping along the way, that either our venerable telephone company or Google Fiber might reach us sooner than later. 

This was until a few months ago when I received a notice from T-Mobile, announcing its new home broadband internet service advertise to reach 5G speeds, using that new 5G technology. I don’t know what you understand about internet delivery, but think in terms of plumbing. DSL offers tiny pipes, cable (like Xfinity) bigger ones, and fiber optic, huge one.

 The problem is that fiber optics need to be sunk into the ground and takes time. For rural dwellers like we have many in the American West, instead of “pipes” there had always been wireless systems that could be assimilated to thin "spray" more or less concentrated, like satellite dish or WISP (fixed wireless internet service providers) that required a tiny dish and send radio wave signals. 

Finally there are the data signals available from 3G, LTE (a week 4G version), 4G and of course today 5G (that stands for fifth generation). Since the cost of that stationary 5G gateway was quite affordable albeit higher than DSL, I thought let's try it! 

Immediately, I was trying to secure that new technology on the internet, but as I had to talk to a human along the way, I quickly realized that T-Mobile had just switched a large part of its call-center to Thailand and I couldn’t understand what the lady on the only line was saying and the poor soul had even less idea of what she was talking about and attempting to sell. 

 After two three attempts, I learned that the company had a gateway (that most of us call that modem) in stock at their Park City store. 

After I drove over, I went through an excruciating questionnaire, missed one key element that I had to resolve by returning back home, and waited at the store for two more hours upon my return, to get my equipment, something we don’t see in America, while it’s a common occurrence in Europe. 

Again the Thailand support crew spoiled what should have been a simple process! The system I got was quite simple, just plug-and-play and in a few minutes I was hooked-up. 

At first, I wasn’t too impressed but at the end of the day, we were reaching download speeds over 100 Mbps on our phones, compared tot the measly 5 Mbps we were lucky to get with DSL. 

I haven’t yet ditched my venerable DSL line, it will remain for a while in the background, just in case, but I might stick with my 5G internet delivery system!

The GOP-Catholic Church in America

Because Biden supports abortion rights, the American Catholic Bishops are doing everything they can to deny the President access to Holy Communion. 

It seems that these folks ought to focus instead on eradicating pedophilia from their Church, or perhaps tackle the insanity built into the second amendment, in an effort to put an end to the daily gun massacres that have become a routine occurrence in America, or – what a Christian concept! - work hard at reducing, or perhaps eliminating social inequities. 

No, instead US Bishops want to deprive Joe Biden from the Eucharist. 

Well, with all due respect they can put their sacred wafers somewhere, and the world might suddenly become a much better place to live in!

A first trip 'round the world, part 17

The journey from Tenerife to Durban was no small feat; there was 5,200 miles to go and it would take 15 full days! 

Although the ship moved at an average speed of 24 knots per hour, still a relative speed 28 mph on the ground, the time on board was getting long, punctuated by seasickness that only got worse as we sailed into winter and into increasingly rough seas.

When our sea-sickness got a bit better, our life had become totally nocturnal and we hardly woke up earlier than lunch time, if we were lucky enough to get to the dining room before service was over! 

In retrospect, I am happy that Jean-Pierre did not realize that before leaving Santa Cruz, or else he would have suggested that we cross over to Africa and get to Durban by hitchhiking and I probably wouldn’t be there to tell our story! 

When we rarely ventured out to the deck it was in the back, a bit sheltered, to watch the garbage be thrown overboard to a pack of marine predators following the ship and fighting for the leftovers that came out of the kitchens. 

To provide the passengers with some extra entertainment during this interminable journey, we were once treated to a "rescue exercise", the only one we had to endure during the entire trip, as it’s perfectly illustrated on this photo. 

No, I am not meditating; I’m just sound asleep!

The “de-pyjamazation” of America

The world-wide pandemic opened the door to work from home in a big, big way, and drastically changed how corporate America and other professionals have been doing their job for the past year. At least for those who didn’t need to go on a specific location to provide their skills, knowledge or service in person. 

These lucky ones that stayed home only had to worry about their faces and the section of their upper body that could safely be framed into a Zoom or Skype call or group conference, and could wear whatever they wanted to outside of that well-defined perimeter, hence my term: “Pyjamization”. 

Well now with vaccinations winding down, note that I’m only talking about volunteer vaccination, not the pandemic, companies are calling back their flocks and the return to the corporate suite isn’t enthusiastically embraced by all, as some employers could have anticipated. 

This is especially true of those teleworkers with pets, kids or parents to care for, or these others that are now used to run errands anytime during the day, pickup their mail or go for a jog or a round of golf at their whim. The early signs of “de-pyjamization” feels like the threat of peeling a huge Band-Aid over acres of hairy skin. 

Many teleworkers can’t even imagine it and most of them will have a hell of a time getting back into the routine of going to work everyday. After all, who could blame them?

A first trip ‘round the world, part 16

Now that we had successfully crossed the equator, and the weather was getting really bad, taking us away from the deck and its open air, down to the bar and its drinks, the snow was finally deep enough at Mt. Buller to get the ski season well underway.

Both Alexis and Gérard were officiating and giving ski lessons. In addition to teaching classes, Gérard was responsible, two days a week, to oversee the training of the young Victoria Ski Association racers, which was the other regional alpine ski team competing mostly against their New South Wales counterparts. 

Gérard remembers it perfectly well: “This great little team was a dozen strong, both girls and boys, highly motivated whatever the conditions, and always eager to train, like the rest of the recreational skiers who did not think twice before donning a garbage bag to keep themselves dry when needed against the rain and the almost constant high humidity ... ” 

Australia being a country of immigrants, it was not uncommon to meet Europeans who loved to escape Melbourne and drive to the Australian “Snowy Mountains” to compare them to the Alps they knew so well. 

This is how in the early days of his stay at Mt Buller, that Gérard met a certain Ernesto, from Hungarian extraction, who had passed through Lanslebourg, Gérard’s home town, as he worked there for 3 years in construction, at a place very close to his home ... 

Everyone can understand the joy this encounter brought to him, and that he’ll remember it forever because Ernesto also spoke very good French...

A bit like, two of my friends, Jean Barbier from Grenoble and Joël Gros from Vail, both ski instructors in nearby Falls Creek and Mt. Buffalo, that met their wives Paulette and Jane who respectively came from France and England, having just like Ernesto, opted to immigrate to Australia

My first voyage ‘round the world, part 15

As the weather was turning really nasty and the ocean getting rougher, we happened to cross the equator right in time for our summer solstice that would soon become, for the same amount of daylight, our winter one. 

A hard act to follow, right? 

Like other liners, the Galileo Galilei marked that day by organizing a line-crossing ceremony, which was meant to be an initiation rite to commemorates a person's first crossing of the Equator. 

The tradition may have originated with ceremonies created as a test for seasoned sailors to ensure their new shipmates were capable of handling long rough times at sea. 

These Equator-crossing events featured costumed characters meant to show that the hierarchy on board was momentarily overthrown, with the Captain losing his authority in favor of a grotesquely disguised individual playing Neptune’s role, while the rest of the official assembly was conducting games that often looked like hazing...

This kind of diversion gave all passengers the alibi of celebrating something en route to Australia, and most importantly, a useful way to kill an otherwise endless amount of time in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. 

We both leaned over a bit, managed to cross the equator line without messing our hair and were rewarded with a nice certificate!

Utah’s miracle skier-days!

Our 15 Utah ski resorts have done much better than survive in the full Covid-19 winter that just ended. They broke their previous record reaching 5,301,766 skier-days from 5.13 million in 2018-2019. 

I am very proud that I personally added 118 days to that precise tally! 

This extraordinary feat underscores that there was a huge pent-up demand for skiing and that both Utah’s growing notoriety, multi-resorts passes and a new airport, all contributed to that success. 

We did better than the national figures of 59 million skiers days vs. the absolute record of 60,640.000 in 2010-2011! 

As usual, I’ve immediately attempted to distribute these numbers into each of our 15 ski areas. If you have comments of disagree with my numbers, please chime-in!

A first trip ‘round the world, part 14

As I explained before, the Galileo-Galilei was a fairly large ship for its generation. 

It was in fact a floating village of almost 2,200 (up to 1,750 passengers and 443 crew members) that were supposed to live together for up to one month (in our case it quickly became 50 days, because of the crew strike). 

The tourist class cabins were small, quite pleasant, yet very comfortable, the food excellent, the ship clean and we all were treated very well, even in tourist class. 

In fact, the one-way fare for tourist class between Genoa and Melbourne was about $550 versus $630 in first, a very small difference in 1971 US Dollars. These fares would respectively amount to around $3,750 and $4,100 in today’s currency. 

What follows are some pictures illustrating the vessel...

 

Putin, the Russian Pinocchio

Vladimir Putin has a big problem, he lies like you and I breathe. 

He learned that skill at the KGB, and as the saying goes, “You can take the boy out of the KGB, but you can’t take the KGB out of the boy”. 

I’m sure Putin, himself, is perfectly convinced that he isn’t lying and he’s just what the doctor ordered for Russia. 

Perhaps, even Jean-Claude Killy who used to be me hero, still thinks the same too, but Biden was able to show that he was an old, but true Statesman, when he failed to say that he “saw down into Putin soul” as our bright George W. Bush once said. 

Joe Biden might have taken an exploratory glance into Vladimir Putin’s pupils and just saw unadulterated, repulsive crap. 

At least he didn’t praise the man and concluded by saying, “The proof will be in the pudding”… or Putin, whenever it ends up being displayed for the whole world to see!

A first trip around the world, part 13

JP and I were still in the Canary Islands enjoying the last rays of the hot summer sun before heading south into the southern winter, towards South Africa. 

Meanwhile, Gerard was already working and it had been a baptism by fire for him, since he began teaching on Queen’s Birthday long weekend, a celebration of the English monarch in some Commonwealth countries; he had just given his first southern skiing lessons to a group of young beginners, all students in Melbourne. 

Said Gérard: “They had uncommon learning abilities. After only two days, Bourke Street, the only ski-run open in this early winter season, no longer caused any angst for them! ". 

The fatigue of the trip and the jet lag were already long gone and Alexis and Gérard were now setting up the ski school meeting place signs and organizing the ski school. 

The beautiful weather they enjoyed when they arrived had given way to snowfalls and very humid weather conditions, a kind of frozen mix, that percolated from clothes to bones in a matter of seconds! This rather rare phenomenon in the Alps made it common to wear slicks or garbage bags while skiing in Australia… 

These weird weather conditions had forced Gérard to think about what would happen when the instructor team would be fully staffed; the 45 square foot boot and uniform drying closet was heated by a tiny space heater placed on the floor, which was as inefficient as it was dangerous.

Gérard had asked Alexis to talk to John Hilton-Wood about it, suggesting that he was willing, if okay, to improve that room by installing some electric heaters against the wall, to mitigate the risk of fire from falling objects. It was also a good way for Gérard to proceed with his second, covert objective, to bring the power into the 3 instructor rooms that relied on kerosene lamps for lighting ... 

When he heard about the request, John agreed to it, on the condition, that the work be supervised by his right-hand man. It was this guy who brought back the supplies from Mansfield, a town of 4000, located 60 km, down valley from Mt. Buller. 

After successfully fixing the drying room, Gérard had earned the owner’s confidence and got the green light to continue bringing the power to the bedrooms, should we say, dormitories? 

Thanks to Gérard's hidden electrical skills, we all would benefit from greater comfort and of a modicum of safety in the quarters we’d commonly share through the end of September.

My first voyage ‘round the world, part 12

I don’t recall much about our stop in Tenerife, except that we might have rented a car one day by pooling our per-diem money as we had done in Sicily, but I’m not even sure.

Suffice to say that the entertainment aboard the Galileo Galilei was every bit as good an option as going offshore and getting slammed by the burning sun, under the island tropical, semi-arid climate.. 

What I recall is that it was in fact better on board the ship. Santa Cruz was a big city of several hundred thousand people, second only to Las Palmas in the Canary Islands, and it sat just 130 miles off the coast of Africa, but fairly far from mainland Spain that was 810 miles away, which explain why we didn’t see any Spaniards or Portuguese getting onboard our ship. 

The place was still under Franco’s dictatorship, and the large port was a major hub between Europe, Africa and the Americas, with ships arriving from many nations. 

Soon we would be headed south, into colder austral winter weather and presumably rougher seas...

Don’t know much about electrical circuits!

I tinker a bit with electricity and in that domain, my knowledge is mostly limited to my school education. That was until a few weeks ago, when I was repainting a section of wall that I had just repaired and that surrounded an electrical outlet. 

That particular outlet didn’t have its decorative cover on and even though I knew that I wasn’t supposed to paint on that plug, I got too close and bam! I touched it and heard the breaker go as I lost my lights. I immediately ran tot he electric panel board to reset the breaker that I assumed had tripped. It apparently had not, so I assumed it was fried (never assume anything too fast!). 

I took the panel apart, removed the 15 amp modular breaker that I thought was bad and ran to Home Depot to get a replacement one. When I got home, I couldn’t get to fit into the space. I returned to the store, asked why it wouldn’t fit and the employee told me, “It should, it’s the exact same UPC code…” 

To get a second-opinion, I also went to an independent electric supply store that we’re lucky to also have in Park City. Its employees looked more professional than the one at Home Depot, but they reassured me by saying “...It’s the right one, go ahead and put it on, force it in, if you have to…” 

I went home, tried again and didn’t dare for “force” it as I was told. Tired as well as depressed, I called the electrician who had done the installation. He so much work that he said he’d send me a worker in 3 days. I patiently waited and when the guy came, we didn’t even look at the room where the problem was, but went directly to the control panel, and while he first couldn’t figure why the breaker wouldn’t fit in its slot, he looked at the back of the panel cover and saw that it was a “Square-D” brand instead of a “Siemens” as we at first assumed. 

He then showed me that one of the slit under the Square-D compatible breaker was deeper and therefore had to be the same to fit into the panel. I was told that all local stores were out of that item and I felt lucky to find one on Amazon that I ordered right away, but wouldn’t get for three more days. When I received it, after installing it, nothing would still work. 

I then spoke with a good friend of mine in France, who is a retired electrician, explained my quandary and he suggested that it might be the plug that had short-circuited. Then I assumed again (!!!) that this had to be the problem, so I went out to the store and got a new one. 

After replacing it, still no result, so as a last-ditch effort, I called my friendly local electrician Mark. He’s my age and also a devoted skier. He told me he was swamped with work and would try to stop by, and take a look at it when he’d get a chance. 

A couple of days passed, I texted him to remind him, and then, at the end of his workday he finally shows up, his GFCI outlet tester in hand. He listened politely to my summary and then started stabbing outlet after outlet with his tool, till he stopped at one of them, did something I couldn't quite see and… voilà! power was back. 

I was stunned, delighted and feelt a tiny bit stupid. I had failed to see that among the 6 electric plugs I had in that large room, one of them had a GFCI device that had popped when I painted the distant plug. 

So neither the plug nor the breaker in the panel were the culprits. Just the GFCI had to be reset. Stupid, simple, and a good lesson for a would-be electrician like me. 

“Never assume anything!”

My first voyage ‘round the world, part 11

One moment of our trip on the Galileo Galilei that will forever remain seared into my memory, is that day when we crossed the Strait of Gibraltar. 

The weather was wonderful, everything was perfect, no worries, no pressure, neither for JP, nor for me, we had everything, nothing was missing, the paradise on earth or "Cloud 9" in a way. 

I, who usually was unable to stand still, always worried and in constant search of something better and more satisfying, had become perfectly calm and completely fulfilled. This iconic snapshot perfectly captures this state of bliss, our complicity and our friendship. 

Jean-Pierre, who passed on September 23, 2020 was an iconoclast, never afraid of anything and was quite a character. Although I did follow him a lot, I didn't do it all the time and that was a good thing. We didn't always agree either, but still remained friends until the end.

 This was true throughout this journey to Australia and continued for almost fifty years!

My first voyage ‘round the world, part 10

We were all heading to teach skiing in Australia without nothing much, if at all, about ski history and ski conditions in that country. 

Australia’s first ski lift started operating in 1937, while at first, on-slope lodging facilities remained rather rudimentary and limited through the 1950s. Then skiing gained in popularity and ski resorts developed, influenced by what happened in Europe and North-America. 

The industry growth lasted through the 1970s and then began to plateau. Skiing in Australia has always been a stretch. From Mt. Buller, in Victoria, to Thredbo, in New South Wales the sport happens under the 36 and 37th parallels at very low altitudes; for instance, Thredbo’s base is at 4,478 while Mt. Buller is at 4,511 ft. 

Compare this to Northern hemisphere resorts at similar latitudes, like Taos Ski Valley in New Mexico at 9321 ft, Sierra Nevada Ski Station in Andalusia at 6890 ft or even Dizin, in Iran at 8694 ft, and you’ll get an idea that snow is never guaranteed in the land of the kangaroos! 

This however says a lot about Australian's optimism and determination to make things happen where they wouldn't otherwise, and is a strong lesson to those us who are wringing our hands in light of climate change and a receding snow line. Way to go Aussies!

As a result, the season exceptionally begins on Queen’s Birthday weekend (mid June), but more likely early July, dates which respectively correspond to mid-December and January. The season ends the last weeks of September (March in the north), snow permitting. 

There was no snow-making when we came in 1971 and it was late in that decade that ski resorts began experimenting with it. 

In addition, the Australian Snowy Mountains, and Mt. Buller are just 135 km (86 miles) from the ocean making the weather exceptionally changing and very humid, which affects snow quality a great deal when it doesn’t fall under the form of rain or frozen mix!

US Ski Areas weathered Covid-19 well

According to the National Ski Areas Association (NSAA), skier visits in the U.S. totaled 59 million during the 2020-21 winter season, . 

It was the fifth best season on record and a strong improvement upon the pandemic-truncated 2019-2020 season, which tallied 51.1 million visits. 

In spite of very low expectations, capacity restrictions, need for reservations in some cases and prevailing public fear, US ski areas ended up the season remarkably well. 

The average American ski resort was open for 112 days this past season, up from 99 days in the shortened 2019-20 season, yet shy of the 121 days ski areas operated on average during the 2018-2019 season. 

The market is quite resilient, albeit stubbornly flat, and it should bode well for an even stronger 2020-2021 season, if of course, snow is there...

My first voyage ‘round the world, part 9

Around June 10, 1971, while JP and I were soaking under the Mediterranean sun to fine-tune our summer tan prior to crossing the strait of Gibraltar, Gérard was leaving his native Savoie and rode a night train to Paris in order to meet Alexis in the French capital. 

Gérard still remembers that day quite vividly: “At 7 am, total change of environment as I was lugging my skis and my luggage inside the Paris metro to catch the airport bus to Le Bourget. What an experience for me to dive into this Parisian hustle and bustle, and discover the temper and lack of humor of these city dwellers... This felt already like another planet, at least for me!”

Once at the airport, our two colleagues jumped on the UTA flight to Sydney. At the time, wide-body aircraft, like the Boeing 747, were still in short supply and the 707 and other DC8s made the majority of long-haul airplanes in circulation, so the number of stopovers were still quite mind-boggling: Athens, Tehran, Karachi, Colombo, where a typhoon scared the wits out of Alexis and Gérard on landing. 

Then they continued on to Bangkok, Singapore, Sydney before catching a domestic flight to Melbourne. Gérard, had been struck by what he had seen at Sydney Airport, “Our plane was parked a few meters from the brand new Boeing 747 which was making the rounds for its world introduction. I didn't have a camera handy, but the image of this giant airplane will forever be etched in my mind!" 

Finally the pair arrived in Melbourne, John Hilton Wood, owner of Mount Buller's Blue Lifts, was there to meet the two exhausted travelers after an endless journey and nine hours of jet lag. He drove them straight to his ski resort, over three hours away from the airport. 

Gérard barely remembers the ride, "In the car, the fatigue of this long journey mixed with a language that was totally foreign to the dialect I knew in Lanslebourg, my hometown, had plunged me into a deep slumber..." 

Once they got there, around midnight, Gérard still remembers that when he bid goodnight to his two instructors, Hilton-Wood told them, tongue-in-cheek: “See you in the morning, ski lessons start at 8 o'clock!” 

Finally, after a restful night's sleep, waking up under a beautiful blue sky and a sun that flooded Bourke Street, the main ski slope, Gérard now smitten by the smell of gum trees and the Australians casual attitudes, felt filled with confidence and energy in carving his first turns on his new world.

My first voyage ‘round the world, part 8

While we would have normally kept going east in the direction of the Suez Canal from Athens, we made a u-turn instead towards Gibraltar with Santa Cruz de Tenerife as our next stop. 

The weather was beautiful and while the sun was hitting us hard on deck, the marine breeze made all the difference.

By now we were totally acquainted with our new home, the Galilei Galileo, enjoyed its outdoor deck by the swimming pool, getting to know all the passengers our age, going to see some movies, enjoying the restaurant and its dance hall daily where an orchestra was playing the hits of the moment like “Che sarà”, as well as some ballroom dancing classics. 

The food on board was to our taste, the service good enough for us and drinks were bottomless. The only available activity that JP an I didn’t take advantage of was to go to the chapel and pray or attend mass. 

Life was good, we were getting a nice tan, we didn’t do any physical exercise at all, and we had totally forgotten about our main mission that revolved around selling ski turns the French way! 

My first voyage ‘round the world, part 7

Fifty years ago yesterday, our ship berthed into the Port of Piraeus, the main sea port of Athens, in Greece, the largest port in that country and one of the largest in Europe. There, it didn’t pick any Italian immigrant but from Greece and its surrounding countries to the north. 

We were almost at full capacity with up to 1,594 passengers in tourist class and a privileged 150 in first, among whom could be found the Orange Lifts’ Austrian instructors! In a few days, more Spaniard and Portuguese would soon get on board in the Canary Islands to fill the space still available.

Now that we were in Greece and no longer in Italy and were told that the strike would go on, it became a fait accompli that it would continue at each port of call, delaying our arrival in Melbourne by at least two weeks. 

For reasons explained before (limited amount of pocket money, with now more idle time coming) and also because the weather was so unbelievably hot we spent most of our three day on board the ship, so no Acropolis or guided tour of Athens. 

Before I forget, I must tell you that the Galileo Galilei that was ordered by Lloyd Triestino in 1960 for the Australian immigrant route was launched on 2 July 1961, but wasn’t placed into service till April 22, 1963 when the 700 feet long ship left on its maiden voyage from Genoa, Italy to Sydney, Australia. 

In November of the same year, she was joined on the route by her sister ship the Guglielmo Marconi. Originally the ships traveled to Australia via the eastern route, passing through Suez Canal in both directions, but after the six days war, the return trip to Europe was via the Panama Canal and the trip to Australia was also rerouted via the Cape of Good Hope in the late 1960s and early 1970s. 

These routes would continue up until the 1973 first oil shock and the advent of cheap airfares that would put an end to immigration via ocean liners like the Galileo and the Marconi. 

Under the Athens sun, we didn’t care much about that unknown, bleak future, and instead made sure to sip a few glasses of Ouzo while we ambled around the piers and the harbor of Piraeus, knowing that we’d get more to drink later at the free open-bar on the ship…

The thrill of being challenged

When I was a kid, I hated chores, especially the ones I was told or forced to do without any possibility of saying no without some serious consequences. Talk about a “stick” base education and culture! 

So, as I was executing these chores reluctantly, the job quality was borderline if not downright poor, the time it took to do them was endless for the supervising recipient and seemed endless to me, the lowly worker, and as a result, no one was happy, which resulted in a typical downright spiral. 

Now that I’m a big boy, have chores totally disappeared from my life? Absolutely not! They still rear their ugly heads every now and then, but whenever I can remember to do so, I turn them into a mind challenge like a tiny Everest to be climbed or a Hahnenkamm downhill ski race that needs speed and precision. 

Then, suddenly, the chore become much more palatable, it loses its drudgery and it can even turn into a fun game. The only challenge with that approach is that, in most cases it’s not my “default mode”, I need to remind myself to transform the abject chore into a glorious challenge and my imagination generally does the rest...

Who’ll pay for rebuilding Gaza?

According to the Palestinian deputy prime minister, rebuilding Gaza will cost at least $6 billion. Egypt has pledged some money and so has Qatar, but Biden has said that the US would help too, not counting that he also promised to help Israel replenish its Iron Dome missile defense system, used to shoot down up to 90% of the homemade rockets Hamas launched against Israel. 

This is nuts ! No only are we giving almost $4 billion a year to Israel so it can demolish Gaza, but we now put more money forward to continue that insane cycle. Keep in mind that Israel ranks before New Zealand, the U.K. and France in terms of GDP per capita, so why in the world should their warmongering actions be paid for by American taxpayers ?

Isn’t it time that we sit all the belligerent parties around a table and tell them in no uncertain terms to stop fighting, or else? Of course, Biden is scared of the powerful Jewish lobby and so are the French and the Brits, but is it not now past time to stop that idiotic scheme?

My first voyage ‘round the world, part 6

Arriving in Messina was more reminiscent of Corsica, where I spent time during my military service in the French Air Force, than Genoa or Naples. When we got there we were told, once more, that the usual crew strike would continue, delaying even more our arrival in Melbourne. 

The next day, a Saturday like today, not in the least discouraged by the growing delay, JP suggested to a few friends and I that we pool our per-diem food money and rent a car to circumnavigate the island and see the sights.

We thought it was a cool idea and before we knew it, as we headed about 60 miles south, we found ourselves at the foot of Mt. Etna, a 10,974 feet high volcano, which raises over the city of Catania. 

On the slopes of the volcano a series of ski competitions called the “Tre giorni dell'Etna” (The three days of ski races at Etna) was held regularly, absence of eruption permitting, and brought international ski competitors. 

This time, there was no late June skiing in the program, Just two months before, following a few seismic events, the top of Mt Etna had just broken in different parts, at 10,00 feet height. The eruption of 1971 was one for the history books; of course we didn’t see it but could appreciate some of its destructive power. 

After looking around, we returned to Messina and rejoined our ship for another good Italian dinner followed by some dancing very late into the night, to the tunes of the second-class band...

My first voyage ‘round the world, part 5

Fifty years ago, during June 1, 2 and 3 we were splitting our days on the Galilei Galileo, our ship, and killing time in the bustling harbor of Naples, Italy, the birthplace of the pizza. I remember the place to be filthy, smelly and crowded. 

I had been to northern Italy before, but this resembled the typical caricature of that otherwise beautiful country. I don’t think JP and I had even thought of traveling to nearby Capri, but we definitely noticed the Vesuvius volcano in the distance. In addition, we didn’t have enough money to play the tourists, as this activity had been relegated to finance our globe-trotting, return trip, at the end of the ski season. 

We had to be careful and watch every dollar we still had in our pockets! Again, we had to go through another two-extra days strike, and that weird state of affair now seemed to be a continuing problem that would seriously delay our arrival in Melbourne, but there was nothing we could do about that, except make the best of it and enjoy the moment. 

Going back briefly to Mt. Buller, the ski resort where we were going to teach skiing, had two competing ski lift companies sharing the mountain, the “Blue Lifts”, where we were going to teach, and the “Oranges Lifts” which employed an Austrian ski school ran by Walter Fröis, from Wolfurt in Voralberg, himself ski school director at Alpine Meadows, a resort today merged into Squaw Valley, near Lake Tahoe. 

As we were leaving Naples and heading towards Messina, JP noticed that our competitors from the Austrian ski school had gotten the royal treatment, as they all had been offered a passage in first class. We had spoken to them craning our heads from our second class lower deck and could sense some condescension emanating from them. 

I remember JP was pretty furious at the way Alexis Saudan had treated us!

In China, three is now a charm!

The idea of limiting offspring to one per family was in my opinion very good, but its Chinese-style execution was terrible and generated unintended consequences that still hunt the country to this day. 

To fix this, the government turned the dial to two, and then realized that it had sawed the capitalistic branch China was sitting on, in which population increase fueled GDP growth!

Given a green light to a third baby sounds like too little too late and, as members of an emerging nation, Chinese have figured out that kids cost lots of time and money and if they’ve got enough for one or two, three is now out of the question, like this is the case in most OECD countries. 

Deep inside, and probably intuitively, reasonably smart folks know that increasing the earth human population is a lousy idea and growth for the sake of it, a doomed pursuit. 

Maybe the new precept might work to a degree in the rural, impoverished parts of China, but won’t suffice to create support for its aging population without changing some essential rules.

My first voyage ‘round the world, part 4

As we got installed on the ship and familiarized with our surrounding, had our first dinner and received the usual Captain's welcome address, we were told that the liner would be immobilized two extra days in Genoa and this might continue at each following port of call until the crew strike would be resolved, if it that would be the case at all. 

We were initially scheduled to arrive in Melbourne on July 1st, but obviously that date would be different. Neither Jean-Pierre nor I seemed to care, beside there was no easy and affordable means of letting our peers know about this nasty development. 

Instead, we spent the two remaining days exploring Genoa harbor, a really dirty and repulsive section of town, befriended local sex workers (yes, just friends, period) who guided through its seedy bars and bizarre nightclubs where I discovered, for the first time that romantic relationships where not always of the heterosexual kind. These gals said it all when they summarized their locale in exclaiming: "Che casino", which literally translates to "what a cat-house!"

At the same time trying to understand the intricacies of the huge ship we sleep in at night. During the day and while the strike was in progress, there was no food service on board, so each day, we got a few thousand Italian Lira to purchase food on our own. 

On board, in the second-class section where we were, we began to meet a few young people from France and other European Countries, all bound to Australia, either to immigrate or return home if they already happened to live there. 

But there were not just young folks, the vast majority were also Italian and Yugoslav families that boarded the ship in Genoa, not by choice, but because their only good economic option was to start a new life in that country that was still seeking and welcoming newcomers, even if they were torn apart in having to leave their homeland.

After resuming cruising, having the first evening of fun on board and an overnight sailing, we reached at the port of Naples on June 1.

Vail Resorts way of doing business

For days before the end of May, Vail Resorts has been harassing its pass-holders to renew. By placing upfront its 20% reduced rate promotion based on last year prices, and dangling the May 31 deadline for its “buddy ticket” it gave its clientele the impression that past that date, the discount would vanish.

Usually, I know that the cut-off date is around September 1, so I got into their chat room and asked the agent as to when that 20% cut off date was. He was instructed to answer that he didn’t know for sure and that the special discount could expire any time. Ah, ah! Great transparency indeed!

This isn’t all, though, wait till you read what follows. Skiers then can get to the different passes options, so first you go to the Epic pass, the full one, without black out dates, you glance at the offer and you say cool! Instead of paying $979 last year it’s just $783 now, wonderful!

Then I buy my 13 years old grandson his pass too, as I need a young companion when I do some gnarly skiing, so I hit “additional ages” in blue and I see that for him too the $499 I’d have to pay is only $399, (that’s not what I remember though), but wait a minute, this is for up to 12 and he’s now 13, so will I have to buy him a $783 pass like me? Ouch! That’s a lot of dough.

Fortunately, I now get smarter, scroll down and “Park City Youth Path” appears at only $311 down from the $389 I paid last year, but again, my grandson is now 13. What do I do? Get him the same pass as me, I guess.

 

That when I see that thin blue line that suggests “Additional Ages”, I hit the link and bingo! I finally discover the scoop. It will just cost me $335 to have my grandson ski with me. 

 

All this to say that Vail Resorts is not really transparent in its pricing, manipulates his clients a lot and I bet you that lots of folks buy two $783 passes when they should have purchase one for $783 and the other for $335 like I did after much search! 

Shame on you Vail Resorts!