Five Star Skiing

Possibly the most important film to come out of Fuschl Studios since 'Angus Wrecks The Blocks,' #Austria011 has been wowing audiences across western Europe. Within the Adventure Cinematic industry the maverick director/cameraman/leading actor Nick Warren has been variously hailed as a genius, a visionary and a role model to all people in the young 'skiers with cameras' demographic.

After the worldwide success of his #austria010 efforts, a controversial masterpiece rumoured to have been fuelled and heavily influenced by a heady mix of sleep deprivation and baby milk powder, director/cameraman/leading actor Nick Warren has achieved the seemingly impossible by raising the bar yet further in the highly successful 'Austria Oh' series of films.

Warren's action/disaster films were described in some parts of the press as a moribund franchise as they saw no possible room for improvement after the supposed pinnacle of Austria Oh 10, the innovative and revolutionary fusion of two classic ski stories cut and spliced into one indestructible tour de force, like the fibres of an eight seater chairlift cable.

But director/cameraman/leading actor Warren surprised all comers by breaking down the production process to it's basics and most successfully expanding the crew. The inspirational castings of Mark 'The Only Way Is Essex' Hobson (credited as the best UK boarder to Rip the Kripp by Rob the Quirky Guide) and Wild Phil Coyote were crucial to the Fuschl Studios latest production.

The cast and crew of Fuschl Studios #austria011

Wild Phil Coyote has been struggling for years to shed his image as the crazy man of the slopes and has never shrugged off the dark rumour dogging his reputation that he once landed a huge jump on top of the Mountain Director's Son in Coronet Peak, New Zealand. His medical records would seem to support this, perhaps unjust, reputation but his presence in the tight knit crew of #austria011 certainly makes for compelling viewing and (***spoiler alert***) the hilarious blooper reel would provide a fraction of the entertainment in his absence. The scene of his failure to hit the nail into the block of wood with the thin end of a hammer is priceless and one can only marvel at his persistence at this seemingly impossible task in the face of impending failure.

Mark 'The Only Way is Essex' Hobson represents the cream of the boarding talent from the Anti Stansted Stable (ASS) of riders and his obvious talents at social networking thankfully translate perfectly into the real world, stamping his 'Like' brand of riding all over the stunning Austrian Alps.

Another warming theme that has been running throughout the 'Austria Oh' movies has been the development of McGnarly, the young, flame haired Irish starlet who has evolved from a relative novice in the early years to a bona fide powder hound in this latest triumph. Nothing seems to faze this girl and her future in the ski movie industry burns bright. It is these kind of human interest subplots that enhance the pulsating action of these films and which has led various outlets to heap praise upon director/cameraman/leading actor Warren and his crew as they continue to knock out the hits. One can only take a deep breath and look forward to the next instalment.

(at the time of writing the internet blogosphere is ablaze with rumours of a spin off sequel to 011 operating under the working title of #Austria011 Part Two, Christmas Feast on a Piste' using brand new cast members, but this is yet to be verified).

Take Cover!

I'm under attack! At least according to Jennifer Garner, Hollywood actress, I am. And strictly speaking it's just my skin that's subject to attack but it's such an integral part of my body I feel that it's a slight on my whole. And what exactly is Ms Garner warning me against? Well apparently it's the sun, that mainstay of our daytime existence, our constant companion for well over half our lives, as reliable as the... well the sun rising every morning. But it doesn't stop there, it's also the wind.. and the cold... and the rain... and the fog... and basically every single type of weather known to mankind.

Yes it's the latest advert for Neutragina with Environmental Scientist/Doctor/Star of Rubbish Films (delete as appropriate) Jennifer Garner fronting the saviour to this onslaught on our selves. What's that you say? "I won't bother buying her moisturising skin cream/armour against the apocalypse, I'll just stay indoors." Well think again because Ms Garner is also warning us against the rampaging viciousness of indoor heat! How have we survived so long unprotected against such omnipotent menaces? Faced with such insurmountable evidence Ms Garner puts forward with the help of some vague looking science type diagrams, I'd best be off down the pharmacist and get me some of that miracle cream.

After all this worrying I've been having trouble sleeping and so I turn to another Hollywood Star endorsed product for help, Nivea For Men Roll On Cream for Tired Eyes, promising well, to revitalise my tired looking eyes. And don't worry about feeling like a big girl's blouse using this make up in a tube dressed up as some kind of macho elixir of manliness, Hunky Scotsman Gerard Butler assures us he wouldn't get up in the morning without it, and he's slain thousands of baddies with his Spartan mates in the movie 300, and fought off fearsome dragons in Reign of Fire. But then again he has also starred in some RomCom crap like The Bounty Hunter and P.S. I Love You so maybe I'll revert to stereotype and simply put up with the inconvenience of my tired looking eyes and just go to bed earlier instead.

Ballinspittle 5km?

When you're travelling by pedal power it's a lot more satisfying seeing the kilometres tick by, an encouraging reward for physically pushing those revolutions out, as opposed to the easy twist of a throttle or the lazy push of an accelerator. Clearly the man responsible for laying out the road signs south of Kinsale was not a cyclist as it appears he simply ordered a job lot of 'Ballinspittle 5km' signs and sprinkled them liberally around the area, regardless of the relationship between the position of the sign and it's actual distance from the picturesque village of Ballinspittle.

So it was somewhat disheartening to find myself, on an otherwise beautiful day, pedalling around the area wondering if I'd somehow drifted into a kind of South Cork version of the Bermuda Triangle. Ballinspittle was the turning point for my circuit, the furthest point from home, but according to the Roads Authority it was not coming any closer as sign after sign informed me it was still 5km away. I was pretty sure the wheels were turning round and the scenery was definitely changing but the elusive village remained a stubborn 5km away.

Well I must have passed through a worm hole as suddenly I was upon it and quicker than a flash through the village centre and out the other side. Psychologically I was now on my way home and the sign for Kinsale assured me I was a mere 9km away from my next landmark. Past the famous grotto just outside Ballinspittle and a quick peek to see if the statue of Madonna moved, followed by a little guffaw at the bystanding religious types waiting for exactly the same kind of miracle and here comes the next road sign..... Kinsale 10km!

How I get my kicks

My bow of spare time is strung with many strings of hobbies and each new season and changing of the weather will lead to a different helmet being pulled out of the cupboard, another form of footwear and a differing type of glove.

Weekends in the last few months have featured, with varying degrees of success, whizzing down the ski slopes, belting a tennis ball (mostly into the net), running around muddy football pitches and zooming round the country lanes on the motorbike, all of which keep me occupied and away from the endless omnibus of Come Dine With Me on the telly ('I don't like fish but this fish is nice.... aaarrgghhh!').

These naturally go up and down in my affections (although skiing has remained king for 26 years now) but sometimes you really wonder why you do it. A week after another legendary 'Austria Oh' skiing holiday I was back in action at the heart of the defence for the mighty AUL Div. 2 title chasing Hibernians. Well in with a shot at the league themselves, the opposition, City Wanderers, were bang up for it and turned out to be one of those teams that leave you shaking your head in puzzlement.

The only wondering Wanderers seem to do is over which leg to kick you on and whether to label you with the 'C' word or another such colourful tag they picked up in some bar fight. Not content with barging you in the back the cheerful chappies would then berate you for having the audacity to fall over. As if this wasn't enough their buddies on the bench would launch into a tirade against you for mentioning it to the ref and then against their own player for not kicking you hard enough.

Naturally witty put downs and clever remarks don't hold much sway with these apes as they are usually not evolved enough to understand you are ripping the piss out of them but it does at least leave you with a smug little grin as you pick yourself off out of the muddy patch you've just been dispatched into.

The Evening Echo's Man of the Match

So why do i do it? Do I enjoy it? Why do they do it? They certainly don't look like they're having much fun. Yes I'd rather be skiing in the great alpine outdoors but that's not so easy in Ireland and anyway, once the final whistle blows it's all forgotten about and with a shake of the hand we're all best friends, apart from the ref that is who always manages to achieve the seemingly impossible and infuriate both sets of players. Why the hell they do it is anyone's guess.

(plus we won 2-1 with a last minute penalty so whilst enjoying the relative safety of the blogosphere, 'Up yours City Wanderers!' I bet none of them can read anyway)

How the Evening Echo saw it

Let's fetz!

Well here we go, another website, another username, password and another means of communication with the whole wide world. I haven't quite worked out the purpose of this blog yet but endless prevaricating hasn't seemed to have gotten me anywhere so I figure the best way to start writing a few bits and bobs is to just start typing, you know like the longest journey starting with the first step, or mighty oaks growing out of tiny acorns or like some other such philosophical gems.

I'm hoping that it will veer off in some constructive direction at some point but in the meantime there could be some inane musings and irrelevant ponderings. So strap yourself in, hold on to your hats and enjoy the ride..........