The madness was already announced when booking. In the tourist office’s waiting loop, a hopeful “Simply the best” was played, but the lady on the line couldn’t do anything anymore – “everything is booked!” -, which is why you now spend the night 100 euros in a taxi away in the next valley, where the receptionist warns you as soon as you hand over the keys about après-ski hell hell hell, about binge drinking on broken glass carpets, about the fact that “everything is much worse now than before Corona”, up there in Ischgl.
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