ALPFRESCO: SUNDAY

Crack had the honour of hosting the day party at the Remmdir bar for what was essentially more of a soiree to nurse bruising from the night before. After getting a bit of goulash down our necks we tucked into Pardon My French’s three and a-half hour Balearic odyssey that helped to re-charge, even though much of the dancing was attempted in ski boots – a true challenge. Remove Me brought the house party with a more upbeat selection towards the end of the party and Crack mentally prepared itself for the final hurrah.

We head over to the Whiskymühle, an archetypical ski town club that usually hosts cheesebag DJs unleashing their arsenal of mildly embarrassing party bangers. But instead of walking into Aerosmith and Run DMC’s Walk This Way, we’re greeted by the sound of the Justin Gettings ploughing deep into a set of bouncy house tracks as a multicoloured prisms of light beams bounce of the ‘mühle’s enormous disco ball.

A succession of back-to-back sets follow, like a DJ relay which gradually morphed from house towards euphoric disco territory. Gettings was joined by Tom Hodgson, and the pair’s coalescence produces highlights such as Silicone Soul’s bongo-heavy classic Right On and Caribou’s re-jig of Virgo Four’s It’s A Crime.

It’s at this point we suddenly release that all our friends are missing. Turns out that they’re in the next room to playing Stump. Yes, there’s a game called Stump. It’s a traditional Austrian drinking sport which involves whacking five inch nails into a massive log with a hammer. Somehow there’s a winner, and that winner is awarded a shot.

It may be commendable to immerse oneself if the local culture when abroad, but we think it best to drag everyone back into the main room, because by this point, there’s a taskforce of Hodgson and Lukas behind the decks. Lukas seems hell bent on driving the night to a climax and with everyone’s vibing off the warm throb of disco bangers, he drops The One’s shamelessly rapturous hit Flawless, he gets away with it, and the Alpfresco crowd – all draped in neon, retro ski wear – go totally nuts.

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Words: David Reed

Photos: Chris Cooper