Big White is AWESOME! Coming back next season... part du...

So I just finished this awesome blog on living here, coming back next season, I did some trash talking of Pete aka Peter Barton. Awesome trash talking, I referenced Peter's inability to use correct grammar (your rubbish at grammar Pete). See that was an example of trash talking Pete...

I also had great nuggets like 'Peter is in intents training... which means he intends to train... but just isn't - Pete is doing an OCR soon... 20 miles, 200 obstacles... 200!!! Which is close to a million! Well closer than 199 anyway. I think you will agree... this sounded much better the first draft...

*No, I don't like cleaning either.

I also provided some advice on coming back next season... cleaning*, damage**, references, applying early... great great stuff, the best stuff (almost Trump-esque). I had pictures with great captions, it included advice on appropriate times to contact your landlord (hardly every) stuff that is not your landlord's responsibility to fix - blocked toilets, light bulbs, blocked toilets, locked doors blocked toilets etc blocked toilets etc... you know what the emphasis is on.

**Yes, damage... I do notice.

But... my blog did not save. Can you imagine the words that I used... 'bugger' was one, 'aghhh...' another. Effin foggin eck. Hours I spent writing a crappy blog, hours wasted... 

You know what I did?

I didn't, didn't go for a run up the mountain instead of trying to write it all again (cos we're not allowed). Up the mountain and ruminated... yes, yes... I chewed cud. Foggin eck, that was hard too... It happens to me every year. Every year I say I'm not getting fat this season and every year I ignore myself. So, I have to fix it, which means lots of exercise and less beer... bugger.

Yes it is me, no, I'm not that skinny anymore.

If you are coming back next season it is probably for the same reason I live here, it makes me happy. 

Here is a deep deep question for you - are you happy? Think about it for a minute - are you happy and what is the source of that happiness? Now don't be under any illusion that I live in this constant state of bliss, I don't. Sometimes... work sucks, or my wife is a lovely (wait... I know it doesn't make sense, but she reads it.)  or I am sick (or hungover)... or (more often than not) my tenants are a pain... I also have two dogs, let me correct that, two great dogs...

But they can be a pain too. The big dude (Hobbes) is a labradoodle and for the most part I am a great owner but sometimes... I am a bad owner (no bad dogs you see...) sometimes Hobbes likes to run off... run off and go garbage diving. Yes, yes. Now there are usually two consequences to this activity - the first is a mess that he creates. The second is more of a delayed response... he gets sick, or gets the poopies (I was gonna say shits but this is a family friendly blog), now for some reason these poopies are time sensitive - middle of the night is a very popular time. Sometimes he lets us know, sometimes... not. 

Because how he lets us know is very subtle... Imagine 2am, you're asleep, you have had a couple of beers, or wine, after skiing hard all day, fatigue, alcohol, comfy bed...? Now your dog creeps into the room, sits down and starts to chomp his chops... ruminate if you will, (without the cud). Sometimes this will wake us, sometimes we get other results. And of course we (wifey and I) play the 'pretending to be asleep' game... cos let's face it who wants to get up at 2am, get dressed, go outside in -20 and pick up poop? It is a dangerous game though, for the obvious reasons.

Our dogs get out lots, exercise lots - running, biking, hiking around the mountain (no, not the dogs, wifey and I). The dogs will follow er... doggedly... mostly. Little nutter dude (Pixel) - Absolutely. Big dude... sometimes he can disappear... 

A story - Around about mid season I was up early and it was the perfect day for a run in the trails. The snow was firm with a 2-3cm layer of that really light fluffy stuff - great for my old knees. The air was crisp, with those ice crystals still lingering in the air. I have Hobbes, my music (trance... always) and we head off to the Black Forest. I usually walk the first km or so, warms my joints, Hobbes does his business (easier to walk with a full doggy bag) and then once on the trails (behind the day lodge) I will start, gently at first.

This way Hobbes...

It is the perfect day, legs are strong, breathing is good, music, steady pad of my feet on the trail, crystals glinting in the crisp air, dog following behind me... wait... dog...? Where is that dog...? "HOBBES!" I yell... not just once... but... nothing. I turn around and (whilst cursing... loudly) back track - he can't of gone far... can he? I find where his tracks stop, turn and disappear... for fogs sake.

I start to follow, not at my original pace... no, screw my knees, I'm gonna catch that dog.

You know when you see a dog on or off leash? They don't walk in a straight line, they wend (FYI present tense of 'went') their way, sniff this, sniff that, pee here, pee there... slow(ish). Yes? Well I'm following the trail and there is no wending his way gently down to Happy Valley, no... he is straight line... and moving fast. I'm moving fast, well it is now downhill and I am on a mission. The run is no longer fun, gentle, relaxing... no not at all. I am now gasping like a red faced, unfit, middle-aged chubster trying to play soccer with his kids... effin dog. I get down to Happy Valley and lose the trail - a groomer has gone by. I do the circling to find the trail thing you see in movies and eventually find it again. It has since started snowing heavy so the fresh tracks are now clear... but the older tracks are filling in...

Hobbes!!!

Ha! He has gone up here... up this steep slope into the Edge development... I follow... but now I guess he thinks he has lost me, slowing, wending, walking around all the cars, up to the doors... bugger, lost him again... back and forth, back and forth... up the hill, back down, other side, heading out - I chase. Into the Timbers, lost again, up the snowbank, across to Spyglass... through the middle of Spyglass, out onto the road... where did the trail go? Getting cold... Ha! I find fresh ones heading back to the Edge, they cut right into Southpoint, onto the patio and then back up to the Edge... damn dog. Fresh tracks, he must be close, wending around the cars again, walking to the doors...

Now, seeing a dog doing this, you probably wouldn't think twice... how about a lunatic running around the development staring at the floor, ranting to himself... disappearing but back again 15mins later... a bit more of a concern...?

Busted!

Actually, by this time I was no longer mad, I was hunting and it was kinda fun... kinda. I scramble up another snowbank... and there he was - "Hobbes!" He freezes, deer in headlights... caught. And he knows eh, he knows he is in trouble. Not only is he in trouble but he never got any garbage - Ha! Good owner!

We head home... I keep him close, real close.

Sólido Properties (yes, you can click on this link) is the bad owner of two very good dogs, property owner, property manager, property cleaner (reluctant), property renovator (poor), ski instructor (er ditto), beer enthusiast, very happy and and and a blog writer (if you hadn't guessed) and if you have got this far (really...? do you not have anything better to do...?) you are probably looking for a place for next season... if so, go to this link. I may... or may not respond... keep chasing me, yes, I know I am rubbish.

Big White is AWESOME...! First/Third World Problems...

First World… Third World Problems… Mine, ours… theirs…

Okay, mine first; cos it’s about me… okay? Good.

So, I arrived in Mexico Saturday. Los Barriles; a hour north of Cabo on the Sea of Cortez – it is a place for kitesurfing and my only reason to be here. On arrival kites were flying everywhere; a promise of good times for the week.

FWP #1

Originally it was just Stan and I, a squash buddy and fellow kiting fan. A one bed apartment found on Airbnb would be fine. Stan brought his daughter (Maddy); we’ll make it work. FWP #1 (First World Problem) the place is small, not bad for a couple… three singles is a bit tight. 'Boohoo...' I hear you say…? Exactly.  

FWP #2

Sunday Stan and Maddy head to the Pacific side to see friends – I’m staying to catch wind; it's in the forecast. FWP #2 – No wind. No Wind…! WTF? No, it is not fantastic. No wind, no kiting, no fun, it is my raison d’etra… well, whilst here anyway.

FWP #3 

So I go for a run along the beach, but the sand is not perfect – it’s a bit granular, hurts my delicate toes and and and… the ‘break’ is a bit steep so I kinda run at an angle. Can you say “Awww… poor muffin.” Thanks.

FWP #4... 

The next day… (Monday) FWP #2, Again! I suffer another run after which I stay home feeling sorry for myself, I decide to do some work – at least I can be productive… but no… FWP #4 internet/wifi is down… Why me? Why me god? Yeah, yeah, I know you have billions of people without food, water, living in atrocious conditions under the threat of war or dictatorial violence… struggling just to survive, but c’mon – my internet is down. But I find my own solution (thanks for nothing god) I have to go to a bar with wifi – the beer is cold so maybe I will survive the day.

FWP #1(a)

Tuesday arrives and with it wind. Praise be… to the regular weather cycle. But my none complaint allows me to add another minor FWP. Let’s call it FWP 1(a) – water, the toilet water is none potable – I can’t drink it! Which means I can’t drink the tap water… I have to buy water… it is almost a two-minute walk… FFS!

FWP #3 - Cancelled. FWP #'s 5 & 6 added.

I start my day off with another run, getting used to this; I mean how bad can it be? The sun is shining, nice breeze, a beautiful part of the world… I’m getting great exercise; you know what let’s scratch FWP #3. I get back, jump in the clean, fresh ocean to cool; I get changed, grab my gear, assistant (Stan, normally a criminal defence lawyer… but my assistant today) and head to the beach. I get the kite flying, I’m up on the board, (Cool! I think) I turn the other direction and lose the board… (not cool...) does god not care about me? I think he is spending too much time looking after the billions struggling to survive again… he’s not helping, no, not helping at all. I’m gonna call this FWP #5. But it is worse, I need to add another FWP - #6, I’m a bit sunburnt… don't touch me!

FWP #7

I try and fail to recover my board… for a very good reason – I’m rubbish. I decide to get to shore, land the kite, hike upwind of my board and then recover it. My assistant (Stan) suggests I land the kite before walking up… hmmm okay. I’m in a big area, there is nobody around, the only obstacle is this tiny (‘dusty, please slow down sign’). I start to lower the kite, slowly… slowly... Now, if I made a dozen attempts, I couldn’t hit this sign… I wasn’t trying though was I... No. And even though the wind was loud, the sound of the kite ripping was distinct; a different sound than the one I made. FWP #7… Bugger. 

By the time my kite was untangled and I'd fired Stan, the board was playing hide and seek… I looked. I looked for three hours, I got to my running turn-around point, (250 million miles away) and looked, and looked and… I had lost the hide and seek game. I did manage to spot the top of a tiny, clear plastic bottle, floating 300m away… but not my bright white, yellow and black 139cm board with white foot beds. No. But, the three extra hours in the mid afternoon sun allowed me to upgrade my first degree burns to second degree ones... yay... not.

So those were my FWP’s.

What will we do without snow...?
Oh yeah, we can wait a couple days.

And ours? Our 'collective' FWP...? Glad you asked. 

Snow, or lack of, at Big White. Opening day has been delayed until Dec 3^rd. What…? FFS! That means this $600+/- ski pass is only going to be good for about 135 days, with only a 100 or so 11.5 hour days and 35 x 7.5 hour days – around 1500 (potential) hours of skiing/snowboarding. Works out to roughly $0.42c per hour. How will we cope with such overwhelming ‘lifestyle’ obstacles? I just, I… I just don’t know.

And ‘Theirs’?

My buddy, Robinson lives in the DR (Dominican Republic). They have had some rain. They have had some rain and some people have lost their homes. 20,000 people were displaced, including Robinson. They had warnings though, they had 25 consecutive days of meteorological weather warnings.

When your wife is on the other side of a torrential,
impassable river... but you got your dog.

Perspective.

20,000 represents 0.002% of the population. When hurricane Katrina hit the Gulf in the USA 400,000 were evacuated; if 0.002% of Americans lost their home, it would equate to 660,000 people. The ‘rain’ in DR is a far greater natural disaster than Katrina. Did you hear about Katrina? Yeah, right? Rain in DR…? Not so much...? Thought so. Of course the US have CNN. And FEMA. And the rest of the Western World saying ‘poor America… here are $100’s millions to help rebuild your world class infrastructure, and get people their homes back with their vehicles and multiple tv’s and state aid, and electricity, water (fresh), sewer, cable, internet, gas, cheap food (how else can we get fat), state of the art medical treatment… here, more money.

My buddy Robinson lost his home, has no insurance, no state aid, no FEMA. Fortunately, the infrastructure never existed in the first place so they don’t have to rebuild that – fwoosh… what a relief… and the swamp he lived on… I think it did okay.

So… we have no skiing for a week, I ripped my kite and lost my board… boohoo. Tough life. But the thing is these first world problems we have, one way or another they get resolved. The wind came, someone found my board and returned it, my kite – repaired and flying the next morning… And snow at Big White? It is snowing hard, will continue and the delayed opening... reconsidered?

Third World Robinson? He lost his home, and is now living in a school with his wife and two-year old daughter… and that rain? It keeps going, there are still 18,000 people displaced; homeless since 7^th November. Robinson needs to finish building his house to find a permanent solution… he does get bragging rights tho... "my problem is bigger than yours." 

First World Problems… we are lucky to have them.

Sólido Properties... enjoying FWP's at Big White since 2000.

Big White is AWESOME! Chickendick...

Probably not what you think... unless of course you have been kiteboarding. It is the thingy that looks like (go on guess, yes exactly) a piece of plastic pipe that secures the harness to the control bar. 

And and and, it is also the name of a kiteboarding clothing company... they are called Chickendick. What? I know you know. I told you... dumbass. I just like repeating myself. I just like repeating myself.

Big White... Chickendick... is there a connection...?

Robinson somewhere, doing something or other. I dunno.

Well, let me be the first to break the news!

No.

Nope, no connection, none at all.

None.

Except...

I went Kiteboarding this summer, two times... so twice. Kite Beach, Cabarete, Dominican Republic - it (just like Big White) was AWESOME! And that is where I met Robinson Hilario - we don't like Robinson. We put a lot of effort into not liking him... we have to, cos it's hard. Let me tell you about Robinson, and why You shouldn't like him either.

Robinson... what the hell is he looking at?
Oh, wait, it is a 'dramatic' look. Got it.

1. He has hair. Lots of it, and it is the best kind. Even wifey is envious; and wifey is Italian with this big mane of dark curly hair down to, to... well, some of my favourite wifey bits. Yes, even she is envious.
2. He is young! Yeah! 11 or something... or 22 - same thing. Wifey kept looking at him... "he... he... is so, is so... doesn't he have really nice hair...?" No!
3. And he is a pro kiteboarder. I'm not even proactive. Bar Steward! World #11 or something, I wasn't paying attention. Cos really, who cares?
4. And he lives on a beach... in the Caribbean... kitesurfing all day... sponsored by all these fancy kitesurfing companies... F-One... who take him around the world making videos... 
5. And fit and healthy. Me? 48 - dad body - you know, Leonardo Di Caprio but without the money, beautiful girls, envious lifestyle, rich, famous, blah blah blah, hair! Ha! Fogger!
6. And he is a nice guy. Nice! Goddamit! For fogs sake! Nice!

So, you agree, we hate him? Thought so.

He was my instructor at Kite Beach - wait... just gonna give my buddy Wilson a plug - he owns Big Willy's Kiteboard School... I was glad of the apostrophe... Think about it. And Robby (to his friends) was my 'guide'.

Now 'guide' is a broad moniker, my 'guide' - Robinson, did quite a few things.

1. Robinson helped me find some Sea Urchins... I had to ensure I had found them... this I did with my big toe... four times. Brought some Dominican Republic Sea Urchin pieces home with me.Yes sir. Fun times. Crying was involved.
2. Robinson would collect my board... cos I kept falling off... and couldn't recover it. He could tho... he could recover it easy... and then do tricks... jump, land on the beach,

   

   Here is your board, again...

   board in hand... smiling at me. Bar Steward!
3. Robinson helped me find, with my other big toe a rock. Toe went black. Robinson laughed - it was funny... not.
4. "Any tips?" I would ask. We would laugh. Well, he would laugh. He would laugh with those big eyes, and perfect white teeth... and say nothing. Me? I was planning ways to make Robinson 'disappear'.

Not on this list? Robinson helping me find my sunglasses... both pairs. Sometimes when I was falling off my board (I did this lots to entertain Robinson), I would manage to 'whiplash' face first into the beautiful... warm... rock fogging hard Caribbean! Sometimes, I would only 'wind' myself, sometimes I would only swallow a gallon of salt water (sometimes the force was so much that my lungs couldn't take the volume... allowing my sinuses to act as Pressure Relief Valves... no, not painful at all)  sometimes I would avoid hitting my chest by absorbing the impact with my face. Twice. Twice I lost sunglasses - Oakleys. Robinson would smile at me... Fogger!

I'm just helping this damsel in distress.

Anyhoooo... Robinson is sponsored by Chickendick. They have these Awesome (yes, I will use the word again) t-shirts. Wait... yes, number 7. Number 7 on the list of reasons we hate him. T-shirts Robinson wears all the time yeah, All the time. And and and... he gave me one. Why!!? Wait, it gets worse - he gave me a brand new one, and it was the 'Pro' edition. Ahhh!!!! Fogger! Don't smile at me 'Robby'. 

I like my t-shirt, it is soft and comfy.

When I was in the Army we had 'issued' toilet paper (TP)... (wait... it is connected) TP was 'crunchy', 'crinkly' (think chip (crisps for you Brits) packet) and not very effective (which really is a critical element of TP... no?). Anyhow, sometimes we would buy our own TP... This we referred to as 'Comfy Bum' cos you needed to differentiate... "Lend us your comfy bum." No one ever said 'lend us that crisp packet...'.

Anyway, my Chickendick t-shirt, is the t-shirt equivalent of comfy bum - yes! It is that soft.

I think I see your sunglasses Chris.

And now, cos I told a bunch of lies n stuff I am going to be an ambassador for Chickendick. Yes, Amabassador Chris - so this is kind of me doing some of that bassadoring thing... whatever.

Actually, being an Ambassador gives me the inside track to management and owners. I can get you a t-shirt. Yes exactly! Just send me $500 and I can get you any colour you like. You can also get them here too - a little less expensive.



Okay enough.

Sólido Properties... owns, manages, runs (occasionally), operates a seasonal rental business at Big White Ski (and Bike) Resort. And (if you adopt a broad definition of kiteboarding) we kiteboard... so if you are looking for a place to stay this season... You are (not) in luck, we can('t) help cos we're full - sorry. The 'sorry' is me pretending to be nice.

Big White is AWESOME! First World Problems...

My MOL (mother-in-law) calls me a ski-bum... not just me - my whole family! Even the dogs and they don't ski; poop yes, ski nooooo. In fact they poop more than I ski... maybe they should be called poop-bums... get it? Get it...? Oh never mind.

But not always, no, before the ski thing I was just a...

Army, UN, Property development, corporate path... but why earn money? So I could spend it on stuff, things and vacations.

I always talk to my clients, (I'm a temporary full-time, part-time ski instructor... well it means I work full time but get paid part time... if they need me...) "what do you do, where you from, blah blah blah". Australians often visit Big White every second year, they work hard, save for two years so they can have a fantastic bi-annual ski vacation. A woman from Vancouver Island visiting for two weeks saved all year to do her trip... Others? Of course, lots but the point is made. 

The common theme - I'm lucky, living the dream, wish they could live this life. What? Well, yes, it is true, I live at a ski resort, I ski most of the winter... they even pay me to do it. Not a bad life, not much money but I can't take money with me.

I watched a documentary recently, 'Inspired to Ride'. About cyclists riding across the States - no support, no pay, no medals - 16 hours on a bike a day... sometimes riding through the night. Sounded like hell, compelling tho. Anyhoooo, Juliana Buhring (third overall) was asked 'is this not insane?' 
"Depends on your definition of insanity" she answered, "for me sitting behind a desk 8-hours every day is insanity."

Exactly!

First World Problems.
There have been a couple of incendiary posts on the Big White Facebook Page - Revelstoke this, Whistler that, Bike Park, Big White should do this, do that... And then lift pass season prices - too expensive for families, incorrect marketing... whatever.

Big White doing stuff...
We arrived in 2000, since 2000 the resort has added or improved or developed...

• The Cliff Chair
• The Snowghost Express
• Telus Park and the chair.
• The Gondola
• The Skating rink (one of the biggest in North America)
• The Tube park (ditto)
• The Ice Climbing Tower.
• Happy Valley Day Lodge.
• Happy Valley Learning Area
• Snowpines Phase II
• Feathertop (the big log house area)
• Black Forest Day Lodge

In addition new runs have been cut, summer grooming done, hiking trails built, chair upgrades for hiking...

As for development...

• Copper Kettle
• Sun Dance
• Feathertop Homes
• Southpoint.
• Timbers
• Edge
• Raven
• Snowbird Lodge
• Trailside Town Homes
• Bullet Creek Cabins
• Blacksmith I & II.
• Glacier Lodge
• Solitude
• North
• Stonebridge I, II, & III
• Stonegate I & II
• Forest
• Trappers Crossing
• Aspens
• Treetops...
• The school...

Plus numerous others. All world class accommodation. Then there are restaurants - Six Degrees, Woods, Black Diamond, Globe, Blarney, Kettle Steak House, Frosted Snowflake, Sessions...

Hundreds of millions in investment? The biggest investor in the mountain is Big White. We complain that nothing is happening, we complain that every other resort is growing... we voice our problems, our First World Problems... "but nothing is happening" really...?

But to spend money, to invest in the resort what do you have to do? Yes, make money... true story. So pricing structure on season passes gets tweaked, some families may pay a little more, some families less. 

I know the families with more than two kids won't like this but why should I pay more per child than you? Why? I go on vacation I pay for each plane seat. I buy ski gear every year for my kids, I don't get extras for free.

And the cost? What does a lift cost? $7m? And to run per day? Maintenance, parts, staffing, insurance...? Your $629 pass gives you what 140+/- days with 10+/- hours per day? 45 cents per hour, roughly? Not that bad.

But ultimately these are First World Problems... We live this luxurious life, we won the lottery, abundant food, fresh water, and a life that allows huge amounts of recreational time - yes, Whistler may be further along the development curve, we may have to pay for each pass but we all have a choice...

We can choose not to step out our door, into our skis, we can choose to live in a congested, smoky, smelly city, we can choose to work and save for two years to afford two weeks skiing... We have First World Problems... we have choices.

Sólido Properties infrequently writes a blog, skis lots, suffers from First World Problems, drinks beer, manages both their own and third party property. And is proud to be a Ski-Bum.

If you would like to comment on this post or email me to complain about my insensitive nature you can try at idontgive@hoot.com

Big White is AWESOME! A Story... Bubba, Slavitca, Sladja and Miki.

Croatian names. Well maybe Bubba just means grandmother; and Slavitca may not be spelt correctly; and Sladja...? Not sure about either the pronunciation nor the spelling (no, I agree, not an auspicious introduction), but I may as well include Miki, maybe Miljeko is/was his full name.

Croatian names, a Croatian family living in Bosnia; during the collapse of Yugoslavia; living in Tuzla, well, a few clicks from the Tuzla airport anyway.

There were other members of the family, Juro - Bubba's husband, but we never saw him much and a daughter, long dead, killed by... Well it doesn't matter how, she and Juro are not part of the story.

I met Bubba et al in early 1995, I, a civilian contractor with the United Nations, was provided local billeting with two other guys - Yam Yam and Dickie Greenwood. Three of us shared this quite large house; Bubba and the four other family members, shared not much more than a garage. Both Yam Yam and Dickie are dead now, I told you about Yam Yam before. Dickie? Ex-Army like Yam Yam and I, but probably destined to die young - he had a minor stroke at 25; and when I met him he was overweight, not obese but big enough, he smoked and managed to avoid exercise... Heart gave out eventually, probably 10 years ago now. Great guy tho, both were actually.

So, the story.
Yam Yam was away, maybe leave and just Dickie and I were home, in the living room, probably not doing much. Well there was not much to do, no internet, mobile phones, computers were just becoming ubiquitous but they did not do much - solitaire and minecraft were the advanced games of the day. Communication? Letters, hand written - pen and paper, no spell chek, (it is intentional) no instant send/receive, there was a phone, of course; it didn't work. There was a TV but limited programming; think one channel, working maybe a couple hours every few days with picture quality so poor that you could barely make it out... And in Serbo-Croat. We had a video tape player, a couple of movies and... we had one series of Blackadder, Blackadder Goes Forth. Awesome!

We watched Blackadder a lot. A lot!

Anyway, despite being Croatian, Miki was seconded to the Bosnian Army, they were kind of peaceful at this point. Miki was not front line but was a radio operator - Remf, you army guys will know. He was not safe safe, but relatively, if you know what I mean. The Bosnians were using the local Croatians as additional 'labor' not quite conscripted more volunteered... 'Freely volunteer for this and we won't volunteer you for the more dangerous stuff.'

This went on for some time, it was not ideal but probably the best of a bad situation.

Lets help!

We started hearing rumours, a new Bosnian General was in control. A new Bosnian General decided protecting Croatian 'volunteers' was not a good way of protecting Bosnian front line soldiers. All the Croatians 'volunteers' were no longer volunteers, they were going to the front line. Miki decided 'living' was a better idea and deserted. AWOL, punishable by firing squad... If, you get caught.

It was a few nights later, Dickie and I were probably watching said Blackadder, it was late, maybe 11:30pm, I was likely heading for bed soon. Dickie spent more time with our adopted family and k
new something was going on, "Wait a bit" he suggested, eventually Bubba came in, Bubba came in all agitated "Ohhh, Dickie, pwroblem, pwroblem... Miki, pwroblem" She was very very Balkan in her pronunciation, well she would be. Long story short, Miki was back, being hunted and needing to get to somewhere to join a Croatian squadron, somewhere across a front line... Can Dickie and I help?

Adventurers...

UN vehicles were given almost free reign, almost free access everywhere. It was not unusual to be stopped at checkpoints but, would usually get through - beer was a popular bribe. Dickie and I had our own UN vehicle... We could help, it could be dangerous, smuggling a deserter destined for the firing squad was not part of the UN mandate, can you say 'International Incident'? But what else can you do? Besides we were young and... let's say 'adventurous', it sounds more romantic than dumb.

We got in the vehicle - Toyota Landcruiser, Dickie driving, me shotgun, Slavitca back seat... Nothing was stopping Slavitca coming with us; her husband, she may never see him again, she was coming. We waited on the drive. Remember this was war torn Bosnia, even if there were streetlights there was no electricity. It was after midnight... dark... silent. We waited.

Suddenly Miki was there, out of nowhere, no noise, nothing, from nowhere Miki was in the vehicle, with a big grin on his face. A big grin - Miki was 'adventurous' too, I guess. And so we were off. Kind of, Miki got himself onto the floor in the space between the seats, and then off.

We didn't know where we were heading but Slavitca did. After about 20 minutes we came to the roadblock, the front line, the temporary delineation between us and them. We couldn't stop, not with our cargo. We drove straight towards them, they were waving their weapons for us to stop, we were smiling and waving back... we drove straight through, and sped off - lots of running behind us, lots of yelling... They didn't shoot. I guess making the call to shoot at a UN vehicle needs higher level
authorization - waking the Commander? Takes more time than us speeding away.

We were through, Miki was safe. We got to the drop-off point, some farm I think. Slavitca said her teary farewell and we headed back.

The checkpoint this time was not letting us through, but that was okay. We were UN staff, and Slavitca, well she could make up a story - it would be all good. We stopped, wound down the windows, we smiled handed over our ID's...

Or Dickie handed over his, me, I stopped smiling, yours truly had forgot his ID... Now, I don't look completely caucasian, people used to think I was part South American, or Moorish, or Spanish... Or Muslim... It's Chinese, I am a quarter Chinese - dad's side, but that is another story. Anyhow... No ID, looking like I do, Croatian woman in the vehicle... that had just 'ran' a checkpoint (they were a bit cranky about this) and on the lookout for deserters...? An interesting situation, they wanted us to go with them, they presented a compelling argument - guns; good enough for us.

We were driven to a distant house, put into a room and we waited.

Obviously we got away, or I would not be writing this; and the release was a bit of an anti-climax. Before Yugoslavia collapsed everyone lived in relative peace, Bosnians, Croatians, Serbs etc. Same villages, towns, friends, schools...

The Commander came to find out who was 'running' through his checkpoint, travelling after curfew without ID, and who was ruining his precious sleep. The Commander walked in the room. The Commander... had gone to school with Slavitca. A smile, a glass of slivovitz all round(the local hooch) a ride back to the checkpoint and a wave goodbye.

When I was in the British Army, you went to jail if you lost your ID. I should have known better eh.

And full circle? What happened to Bubba et al? This is not Hollywood, I don't know. I left late 1996, I do not know their proper names or remember their surname. Miki did reappear regularly before I left, I guess once he was in the Croatian Army, it superseded the Bosnian desertion thing.

Sólido Properties, does less adventurous stuff now (I don't know better, wifey does tho) does not drink Slivovitz (have you tried it? Its' disgusting) tries to write a blog about life at Big White, but sometimes can't think of stuff; so I tell other stories... Manages, owns, and maintains seasonal property... and after the 'adventurous' seasonal staff leave, clean up after their 'adventures'. If you are looking for property management, have actually got to this point, and are thinking "you know, I could use the type of person, that drives around war torn Bosnia in the middle of the night, running checkpoints without ID... whilst smuggling a deserter across front lines..." If that is what you are thinking then you are my type of 'adventurer'. Send me an email. Or visit the Facebook page.

Oh... and if you want to read the Yam Yam story... click.