Our Ski Trip to Bansko in Bulgaria

Ski Trip to Bansko — A Poem in Many Stanzas

At 6 a.m. from Bristol we rose
Bleary eyes blinking as the cold wind froze
Eleven adventurers bound for Bulgarian snow
Yawning, laughing, ready to go

Seven tennis comrades, partners and a mate
Some keen to ski, some just there to celebrate
A social‑ski cocktail of chaos and cheer
The perfect ingredients for a memorable year

Our catered chalet felt cosy and grand
Tony the chef ruling the kitchen like a band
Two courses nightly, cakes each afternoon
A mountain‑side heaven we settled into soon

A hot tub steaming in the crisp evening air
Most of the group found their way there
One forgot trunks—but still took the plunge
A bold winter dip with a daring lunge

Cards and table tennis warmed up the night
Then a few more daring games took flight
Twisted minds revealed in the funniest way
And the final prize—“Bulgarian viagra”—won the day

When Bob’s birthday arrived with a warm, happy roar
Tony baked a cake we all gathered to adore
Wine and beer flowing, laughter filling the air
A chalet celebration beyond compare

Each ski day began with Mac’s yoga flow
Stretching cold muscles before braving the snow
In cat pose one morning, to everyone’s crack
Jana hopped up and hitched a ride on his back

The Pirin peaks rose in shimmering white
Vistas from the top were pure delight
Skiers carving arcs through powder and sun
Every run a story, every fall part of the fun

Colin in his mojo suit, legs guided with care
Chasing off‑piste powder with Helen everywhere
Together they danced through untouched white
Two silhouettes floating in mountain light

Mac, lone snowboarder, smooth as a stream
Carving the mountain like a man in a dream
Showing off skills with effortless flair
A board beneath him like it lived there

Barney vowed to ski, improving each day
But fresh powder whispered, “Come out and play”
He hired a board and joined Mac in the deep
Two grinning rebels in snow waist‑deep

Bla Bla, 180, and the Goat Bar crew
Regular meet‑ups with a mountain‑top view
Stories swapped over drinks in the sun
Fuel for the next exhilarating run

Marketa, Czech superwoman, perfect on skis
Gliding with elegance and effortless ease
At the gondola’s end she’d share from her flask
A warm little ritual no one dared to outclass

One of us (unnamed) had quite the spree—
Lost skis, left a backpack, broke glasses, oh gee
A trilogy of mishaps that became running lore
Retold with affection forevermore

The non‑skiers braved a rickety old train
Clattering to Razlog like a time‑warped domain
They hiked to a frozen lake, and up the ski road with flair
Dodging weary skiers and boarders collapsing everywhere

Stray dogs wandered with soft hopeful eyes
Winning hearts daily with gentle surprise
Some of us stopped for strokes in the snow
Little furry friends wherever we’d go

From four to half‑five, our après‑ski throne
Tipsy 360 became our second home
Beers, cocktails, rum coffees flowing with glee
Most of us leaving a little more tipsy than we meant to be

As the week wound down, hearts felt the sting
Of leaving behind every slope, laugh, and fling
Bansko stayed with us, stitched into our days
A tapestry of memories in winter’s soft haze