There was a time where I was the Queen of Après, when the night before was blown from my weary dancing bones by a simple ski down a mountain and all it took to do it all over again was a shower and a Red Bull.
Apres has seen me dance on the back of former British rugby captains on the dance floor in Verbier, open a pop up hair cuts bar with blunt scissors at The Pub in Hakuba (my trade mark lopsided bowl cuts became quite the thing the next day) and for a while there was a bar in Queenstown that had named a cocktail after me on their menu.
“Rachael’s Undoing, named after our favourite Aussie journalist because after two of these she comes undone” – I didn’t know whether to be proud or hang my head in shame.
I’ve been locked out of accommodation in Japan when we came home past curfew, forced to sleep in luxury cabins down the road that left their doors unlocked and I’ve danced on table tops at the Chilean staff bar in Portillo only to wake mere hours later to hike the Andes ridge line.
Personally I think I deserve a damn good lie down.
My idea of post skiing down time now involves a massage in the spa and a hot chocolate around a fire before a hearty meal with friends and eight hours of zzzz’s. I have morphed from one clichè to another and I don’t care who knows it.
They say it is age, acting it and knowing it. I would add a desire to be healthier and alcohol free another contributing element. But then that comes with age too. D’oh!
So how do you really know when you are too old (or wise or married or healthy or inexperienced) for apres?
- You hear Jaigie bomb and duck for cover
- You throw your Tequila shot over your shoulder when everyone else is too busy screwing up their faces after downing theirs to notice
- The only dancing shoes you packed were Nikes
- You are first on the mountain and first off the mountain
- You check the yoga and gym timetable before the bar opening hours when you arrive at the resort
- When the spa rings to say the only massage they have is 5.00pm, you take it
- A walk of shame to you is clearing up your yard sale under the chairlift
- There are no random text messages written by gremlins on your phone each morning
- You think shotski is a photographic term for selfies at the snow
- You come home from a ski holiday with change in your pocket
What have been your most memorable apres experiences and how do you know when you are too old for apres?
In the late 90’s & early 00’s it was late nights at The Tippler in Aspen, now it’s early nights with the family at Snowgums in Perisher…
Jerry’s Inn in Westendorf Austria – on the tables in boots encouraged, wall to wall people, and non stop oompah
Fat Alberts in Andorra, those were the days
Toga party @ the Keller bar in Thredbo in the late ‘90’s… stopped for a rest on the way back up to the chalet and woke up 4 hours later in a shrub dressed in a sheet and a pair of ugg boots covered in 3 inches of snow… felt that the next day but those were the days!
Funky Chicken in St Anton Austria. The things that happened in that place…