A MAGICAL COLUMBIAN IN THE ALPS.

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Raoul Duke: "Look, there's two women fucking a polar bear"!
Dr. Gonzo: "Don't tell me these things. Not now man".



It has been a while since I shared some digital love. Been busy pretending Im progressing in life. Been back to Chamonix to see old friends, make new ones, and party under the moon in the valley of the permanent weekend. What a place. Every night felt like a friday after a weeks work, and every morning felt like a sunday morning, complete withs wonky flashbacks and hangovers of epic proportions.

This trip was great for loads of reasons, but one that stands out is that it was the first time I'd met a Columbian. A tri-lingual Columbian magician writing his thesis on Columbian economics. Oh, and he did rubix cubes in under one minute every time. You get the picture. Add to this a duo of full throttle welshman who left me tired after 10 minutes of occupying the same space, and I was completely shattered the whole time. This was all before Id even got on a snowboard and taken in my surroundings, which were unlike anywhere else I have ever been, or think I will ever go.

The snow. Powder. When it boils down, this is the reason I go back. Waking up early and hearing a whole world muffled in perfect white. The clarity you feel in your head when the only thing you can hear is your own breathing, and the only thing you can see is an perfect world of white. Snowboarding is something that can, on a good day, take me over completely. It makes me forget about the stuff that usually consumes my thoughts, and takes me away to a place where the real world doesn't exist one little bit. But there wasn't any. At all. So I proceeded to try and keep up with the Welsh boys, murder some brain cells and soak it all up.

Thats not to say I didn't have fun. The weather was crystal clear, there was the park to hit, and damage myself physically in, and I happened to be in one of the most beautiful places in the world.

So I return home broken in body and in head, via a surreal run In with the boy-band JLS at the airport, confirming my suspicions that humanity is doomed. And now Im back on the island of miserable weather and people, and I stand on top of a scaffold building a wall, and wonder. Did the spinning top fall over?

Massive thanks go to Slick and Joe. You boys hooked me up proper good like. Thanks for having me. Tom, thanks for the use of the GoPro.

Below are some bad phone photos of random shit, and a mini vid of the 'GrandmasTits' home run.