Posted by: Moira Drexler | January 24, 2011

Erlangen To Filzmoos For What Most People Would Call Skiing! Erlangen Nach Filzmoos Und Zuruck Und Ich Lebe Noch.

When anyone asked me in Australia if I could ski, I would have said, ‘Well, I didn’t grow up on skis but yes, I can ski.’  Blah!  What a joke!  Living in Erlangen, so close to those enticing Alps you just HAVE to be able to ski.  And when we are having so much snow that the children can build real igloos in the backyard, (Damn it, when I was a kid, I was happy to build a sandcastle!) and there is also so much snow that you don’t even know where to shovel it any more, then one way to stay positive is to do what the Bavarians do.  No, I don’t mean beer drinking, I mean skiing.

Filzmmos, Austria.

I have lived in Erlangen for ten years.  When a native Erlangen person, friend, foe or neighbour   asks me whether I can ski, I think…………Oh God no.  No.  I cannot ski as you call it.  I can however with help from my husband, get what you call ski boots on.  God, that is hard work bending over and being strong enough to get the clips to reach.  Then you have to think is it too tight, too lose?  How would I know?  I am a punter.

Filzmmos from the top, just beautiful.

Then, how is this for unbelievably embarrassing?  I can just never look cool.  I mean, I try and click the skis together, hoist them on to my shoulder like the schmicky- mickey people do and I am telling you, more times than not, I have already had an accident by the time I get to the lift.  What can go possibly wrong is what the Erlangen people, the Bavarians, the Locals in whichever ski village we are in, are asking.  Well let me tell you.  Last year while I was trying to strut down to the chairlift, attempting to look like a local cool dude with my skis (I actually do own a pair now and don’t have to rent them!) the bloody things slipped and sliced a HUGE piece of my finger off.  A real chunk of finger at the bit where the fingernail joins the skin, flew into the air and I watched it land in the sparkling snow.  I am not joking.  So when I was trying to work out if that had actually taken place, I quickly gazed at my finger and there was blood spurting like the knight at the beginning of Monty Python’s Holy Grail.  Oh no!!!  I wasn’t even at the chair lift, I hadn’t even got a lift pass and everyone was just about passing out at the sight of my finger spurting.  What a punter.  Lucky the ticket seller had band aids but I tell you, I lost so much blood I nearly needed a blood transfusion.

The views are just breathtaking.

Getting to the chairlift.  Crumbs.  You don’t want to look like a dick with people you know hanging around.  Don’t dare accidentally knock into other peoples skis.  And don’t look so stupid when the gates open and you have to edge up to the point where to catch the lift.  I am telling you this year, there was a two seater chairlift I encountered that knocked me fair square into the funny bone and that was NOT FUNNY:  I am still sore.  Another injury and not even on the Piste.

Contemplating before skiing off the edge at the top. YES, even I the punter made it!

What about that fast two seater again.  It came around so fast, the man was screaming at the top of his lungs, VORSICHT!!!!!!!!!!!!!   He wanted me to be careful but nobody told me this was on autobahn speed like in Germany.  The chair came crashing around so fast , it nearly knocked me out , I could have had a broken collar bone and of course, how embarrassing for my husband who was talking to me at the time . I nearly had a hit and run with a chairlift.

You can't complain about the views in Austria.............

Then there is all the trendy, schmicky, mickey talk you have to learn.  German or English, it is all the same in Ski language.  Some years ago, a girlfriend gave a description of the runs, how she had managed them and then proceeded to tell me that ‘she just had to have a quick willy at the hut!’  I screamed, ‘Jesus, you WHAT????  A quick willy at the hut?  I just couldn’t believe it and and I don’t think I would be allowed to write in a blog the words I actually said to her.   I couldn’t believe this.  Here was a German girlfriend giving an intimate details like that as if it was nothing at all………..after a few minutes, I realized that me being the Australian Ski Punter , I didn’t know the terminology and what I thought to be a quick willy at the hut was no fast, sweaty sexual encounter but a serious, Bavarian pear Shnapps!!!!!!!!!  Oh my God!  How could I not know this?   A pear schnapps is usually made from Williams Pear.  So get it?  Williams……..Willy…………I understand that willy is another word for a mans apendage and so a quick willy was totally misunderstood.  I thought it was rather odd that she told me about her quick willy, but she did have that twinkle in her eye and I thought it might be all that fresh Alpine Air.

Here is a nice hut for a quick willy........

And I just love watching how my local friends click their skis off.  So elegant, so sporty, in a quick flash and so cool.  Here I am, the punter, getting all clumsy with the stocks trying to get the end of the stock into the groove of the ski to press down and I look like such a nerd.  It is so embarrassing I just cannot even think about what my friends think.

Golly gosh, look at all the skis, those Bavarians are right into a quick Willy at the hut.........or two............

And why is it when I have a really dumb fall, it is witnessed not by strangers, but by people I know who only want to have a giggle with me.  This last weekend, I could hardly get up.  And how do you think I feel when a little toddler, only just out of nappies skis down to me to ask if I need help??  Do  you think such a young Bavarian person can lift that ski to me.  Embarrassing.

And walking in the ski boots when you are exhausted from doing your best although you look like a silly sausage on skis because you just cannot get the two exactly parallel.  Walking in ski boots can be awful.  It seems that the experienced loosen them.  Do I do that when I want to get a warm drink inside of me by stopping at a hut?  No, because I couldn’t bare the embarrassment in not being able to click them up in a trendy, smart fashion.  And it is really horrible if you are in a hurry to the bathroom with those clumsy boots on because the bathrooms are always downstairs.  I am telling you, give me Prada any time.

Now here is one last shot of Filzmoos for all you ski punters and ski wonders.

Skischool at Filzmoos, Austria flying the Austrian and the AUSTRALIAN flag!

I am not joking.  The Austrian and the AUSTRALIAN flag. While I am collecting my children at the end of the day from Skischool I cannot help but wonder why on earth the ski school would fly the two flags.  My initial thought was , ‘Oh yeah, I get it.  They want to tease the Bavarian ski heros with the Aussie punters like myself.  They say opposites attract.  Hhhmmmmmm.  It got the better of me and so in my bestest, bestest, high German Austrian come Australian accent I ask:


In English, Why are you flying the Australian flag together with Austrian flag at this ski school?

The answer was this.  ‘Well, about six years ago, a lady from Australia came to work here as a ski instructor.’  Upon hearing this, I nearly choked laughing because were they trying to pull my leg?  An AUSTRALIAN came to teach skiing here?  (No offense please to my fellow nationals…. it is just that the Austrians really are the better of the two nations when it comes to skiing!)  I didn’t know how to keep a straight face because I thought there was going to be another joke to me the punter.  But the truth of it is, that an Australian girl really DID come and work at the skischool.  The owner of the skischool and the Aussie fell in love, got married, and that is why the Australian flag is blowing in the wind in Flizmoos, Austria.  Sweet huh?  I thought it might actually something to do with the quick willy at the hut culture!

Cheers!  Prost!



  1. Once you get the hang of it skiing is the most fun you can have standing up.

    • It sure is. I do have fun and I love breathing in the fresh air at the top of the mountains………but I don’t think I will ever face a black run. The red intermediate runs are the best for me!

  2. Moira, your hilarious! Great story and great weekend.
    How did I miss that Aussie flag? I’ll look out for it next year.

    • Glad you liked the story! Oh no, you missed the Aussie flag? Never mind. Sorry we didn’t get to have a ski together. You know that I am not that bad………

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