Now where was I?

It would appear I’ve become a little side-tracked over the last few days and even, shall we say, lost a little focus? I’m trying to bear in mind that this journal is to document this year’s trip to St. Anton. My stay in the Arlberg is not, then, merely to provide material for a rather dubious record of events. That said, now where was I? Ah yes…

[This might be just-a-little-bit boring, as it’s all retrospective. You’ve been warned.]

So it’s Thursday morning. I woke up and had a quick peek between the curtains. Blue sky. Within seconds I was hammering on Tony’s door. Half an hour, and some scrambled eggs later, and we were on the Gampen quad, bound for the top. Unfortunately, the greater tourist population of St. Anton had had the same idea, and the whole place was crowded. After arranging to meet Dex at the top of Gampen, we then accidentally decided to abandon him and tell him to meet us at the bottom. You might question how it could be ‘accidental’, but it was one of those issues that arises from a series of cascading bad decisions. Unfortunately, after each new decision was made – based on events unfolding before us – we then managed to forget just why the previous decision was made. It was just one of those things, really, but I served myself up a rather large slice of humble pie. The thing is, stuff like this has happened to me before, but I try and keep in mind that it’s rarely malicious, or even thoughtless; it’s just, well, shit happens. Karma got it’s own back, though: Not an hour later, I was speeding down Happy Valley when – and I have no idea what happened – I caught an edge and body-slammed into the piste. Rather glad I was wearing a helmet, as it goes.

Anyway, after that, we spent the day playing around in perfect visibility and perfect powder. It really doesn’t get much better. The only issue was the number of people out and about. Still, there’s always a trade off, isn’t there? We ended the day at the ‘Underground on the Piste’ – a cosy bar just below the Mooserwirt, on the far right of the final run into Galzigbahn. We’d been taken there last year, by Franzi – our aforementioned guide – as it seems to be the accepted gathering point for Piste to Powder guides and their clients. Sure enough, who should we run into?

Underground on the Piste

This is a fairly small and hard-to-find bar at the far right of the piste, as you come down towards the bottom of Galzigbahn. It's through a small gate and behind some trees and, while it's easy to ski to, you'd never find it unless you were looking for it. Presumably, it was affiliated to the now-defunct 'Underground' bar. The decor consists of untreated wooden walls, benches and chairs, with loose cushions and rugs across them. The building itself is reasonably spacious, but rendered cramped by the number of very large tables and benches scattered throughout. Make no mistake, one doesn't come here for a stand-up drink. Anyone who you find standing with a beer in their hand is either visiting friends on another table, or waiting for a seat to appear. This place is for a slightly older crowd, and you'll find no dancing - let alone dancing on the tables - here. Depressingly, I rather like it here. There's a small bar but - and this is another nod to the 'seated' atmosphere - you'll rarely find anyone to serve you, as the staff are all busy waiting on tables. This is the sort of place where a small dog feels happy curled up on one of the chairs. Nevertheless, it's a great place for gathering at the end of the day, when you just want to have a beer and a chat. Piste to Powder guides tend to bring their guests here at the end of the day for a beer (and to extract bookings and cash from them), so there's a lot of off-piste conversation.

Oh yes, they also serve a glass of shnapps with just about every beer - it's not very strong, and actually quite 'sip-able', if you like that sort of thing. From 4pm, generally, an English bloke with a guitar and a headset appears, and strums accoustic music for a few hours, making for a rather excellent atmostphere. In keeping with the more 'mature' environment, it's loud enough to sing along to, but not so loud as to drown out any conversation. Good for a few beers après, but you wouldn’t stay here all night. Indeed, when the guitarist is done, it empties out pretty quickly.

[In addition: a learned colleague points out that it gets busy with dinner bookings later, and the guitarist performs a second set. It's reachable along the road, as well as a short walk up the side of the piste, so I guess it's do-able. Never been there myself for that, though, so I can't comment. I assume the small dog doesn't move, though.]