SOL does Söll

posted on July 8, 2011 in Stuff

Skiing has become something of a yearly pilgrimage for our band of merry men. The problem is, so far we might as well have taken a trip to Farmfoods. Freezing cold, surrounded by sausages. I had imagined skiing to be all about smiling athletic girls with long hair and fur brimmed jackets. It was not. It was drunk men, with their chaps out, drinking beer through each others socks. Determined not to let this fate befall us again, I did some proper hardcore research. I Googled “ski night life”, “skiing hot girls” and any other keywords I thought would uncover a hidden haven. Many minutes of research suggested Austria may be were it’s at. I scrolled down through the results. Then I saw it. Söll.

Skiing in Soll

Söll! A place called Söll. And we’re SOL! I lobbied the SOL Treasury (Mark) and the flights were booked. As per protocol, we substituted in a third man from our London base to increase diversity and boost the numbers.

Boarding the flight things didn’t look great. It seemed to be families, couples and annoying children. I could sense some disillusionment from the other two, but I still had absolute faith. I could feel it.

Several delays meant we didn’t roll into Söll til way gone 9. We dumped our bags and set out for food. The restaurant had a couple of large groups in. Large groups of foreign men. Large Welsh rugby men on closer inspection. No matter. It would still come good. It had to.

After food we set out for drink. By chance we stumbled into the Whiskey Mule and made our way through to the bar. “Did you see that sign in the foyer?” Mark asked.
“No, why?”
“It said strictly over 16s!”
Crumbs! I looked around. The place was full of those elusive beings. Girls. We established ourselves at the bar and after a short while some girls encroached our threesome.
“Können wir diesen stuhl?”
Eager to encourage my compadre’s into action, I responded with insightful wit: “Sorry, pardon?”
“Can we use that stool?” said a girl, smiling to reveal braces.
“Sure, yes! Are you guys from Austria?”
They were from Austria; proper locals. And they were young. Boy, were they young! Their parents may well have dropped them off outside. They actually sat with us for a bit. It was probably when they realised we were cheapskates who weren’t going to buy them beer that they slid off the chairs and disappeared into the crowd. As the girls went there were actually mocking groans from some guys behind us at our perceived failure. But it wasn’t, it was quite the opposite.

“Told you guys! One night here in Söll and we’ve successfully spoken to more girls than in the entirety of our previous 2 ski holidays.”
“Cheers!” We clinked our 3 beers.

Drinking 111 in Soll

That business out of the way, we could now concentrate on drinking. In between drinking we squeezed in a touch of skiing:

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