Herr Kut

Ja, the haircut. I know, I know, it wasn’t exactly getting in my eyes, but being possess’ed of a physiologically massive head, I have to take steps to make it look as slim as possible. So, it was off down to the church in Nasserein, since I’d heard from ‘Roderick’ – a ski instructor, this year’s ‘saunameister’, and yet another of the folk Sylv's met in St. A – that there was one down there somewhere. Sure enough, I happened upon ‘Salon H. Team Anita’. Notwithstanding the fact that it sounded a bit like some sort of Touring Car racing team, it was the only one that seemed fairly easy to find.

Sure enough, as soon as I walked in, Team Anita swung into action. They didn’t actually hold up a 'Brake' sign, but a woman left her station and came to help me out, eventually telling me to take a seat and wait. I never actually saw Anita herself (I assume she was working in the back, chomping on a cigar while a stylist with a Mohican and a tonne of gold jewellery performed some spot welding.). It was bizarre, actually. Since there are only two or three salons in the centre of St. A, they had every manner of hair dressing facility under one roof. On one side, there were several elegantly-coiffured ladies styling ladies of much the same age and appearance. Slightly round to the left of them, a couple of younger girls in hipster jeans and two-tone hair were whirring away at girls, again, of much the same age. I was, naturally, directed to a balding bloke in his fifties tucked away on the right. Still, you can’t really get my hair ‘wrong’ (shut up, just shut up) so I’m feeling a lot better now, and can see where I’m going. First haircut in a foreign country, too, so quite a milestone, huh? Only €16, too. How do they do that and make a profit. Well, some of you will see on Saturday. I should add, the beard went a few days ago. Working, now, on building up enough stubble to be able to go back into the St. Anton café and see VCW.