war

as i was hiking along the coastal cliffs of italy i had to continually pinch myself. "is this for real?!" every now and then i couldn't contain my wonder, so i'd scream, "YEAH ITALY!" at the top of my lungs. trudging through the snow of the alps was ridiculously dream-like as well. the snow was about 5 inches deep, and still falling. of course, we didn't bring snow shoes, so we double-layered socks and stuck our feet in plastic bags. then we put our shoes on. the poor man's gore-tex. talk about toasty! my feet didn't get cold once.

there was something better though.

after hiking in the alps, roy, tom (a friend we met at the hostel), and i were walking back to the hostel in interlaken switzerland. all of a sudden this white streak flew by my face. it was a walk-bye snowballing!

but where'd it come from?!

we got low, not knowing from whence the next ball would come. then we saw them...two young swiss boys gathering their next rounds off the ground in the yard across the street. we had to act fast. these boys grew up in the snow. they knew how to make some darn good artillery.

we spread out. it was three against two, so we had an advantage. or so we thought.

as it turns out, roy is from houston texas, so he's about as useful in a showball fight as a bikini in a blizzard.*

whisss whisssss, the snowballs went flying by. i hopped a fence into another yard, seeking some protection. to minimize the collateral damage (cars were driving down the street through the crossfire) we eventually managed to lure them into our territory (our side of the street).

there was a big conifer tree in the yard they used as a bunker. i chased one boy around the tree a couple times until he leaped into its dense branches with a thud. i heard him moving around in there for some time. wisely, he didn't come out.

the other boy was more problematic. he was smart, and was able to inflict some battle wounds. fortunately, none were fatal, and we continued courageously. i have to give props to roy, despite his inexperience, he had a heart like rudy. no young swiss boy is going to keep him down.

the boy was hiding in the bushes in front of the house, tom went around the back to flank him as i swept in around the big conifer tree. the boy saw trouble looming over him and ran. we followed in pursuit. he sought shelter behind a wall--which would have been adequate protection had the wall not been only six feet tall and a semi-clear plexiglass material. i could see him huddling behind it and reaching over the wall, i laid a monster ball right on him. he was out for the count!

we were like the famous conquerors of the past...napoleon, alexander the great, ghengis khan. we gathered in the yard and basked in our accomplishment. it was splendid...like the hobbits after they defeated mordor in the lord of the rings.

then the old lady opened her front door and said, "you are on private property!" and several other things we couldn't understand in german.

so we quickly left. but going to sleep that night i think we all sank into our pillows with a deep sense of achievement. we had been attacked, and had overcome.

*editor's note: roy wasn't really that bad, and i wouldn't feel right dissing his snowball skills if he hadn't joked about it himself first...roy, i'm glad you had my back. oh yeah, and a 100% merino wool bikini might be adequate for a blizzard, but probably only as a base layer.