About two months ago, after a course of travel literature and some
back numbers of _The Badminton Magazine_, I became infected with a
desire to spend a winter in the Alps, skating, sliding, curling and
yodelling in the intervals of ski-ing, skijoring, skilacking and
skihandlung. The very names of the pastimes conjured up a picture
of swift and healthy activity. As the pamphlets assured me, I should
return a new man; and, though I am greatly attached to the old one, I
recognised that improvement was possible.
I don't remember how it came about that I finally chose Freidegg
among the multiplicity of winter-sport stations whose descriptions
approximated to those of Heaven. I expect Frederick forced the choice
upon me; Frederick had been to Switzerland every winter from 1906 to
1913 and knew the ropes. I somehow gathered that the ropes were of
unusual complexity.
The entire journey was passed among winter-sporters of a certain
type. From their conversation I was able to learn that Badeloden
was formerly overrun by Germans; that Franzheim was excellent if you
stayed at the Grand, but at the Kurhaus the guests were unsociable,
while at the Oberalp you were not done well and the central-heating
was inefficient.
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