March 2011... and for the first time in my life, off skiing.
Because I'm sporty people assume that I ski, but I don't. Not quite sure why, other than a) it's expensive, b) I don't want to break a leg (I would be unbearable to live with), c) mountains aren't my thing; I prefer to look up at them, rather than perch on top of an avalanche-waiting-to-happen, looking down.
Lesson One: Get gear
In order to ski one needs gear, and lots of it. Luckily we struck gold at a local car boot sale and found 90% of our ski stuff for 50c per item! In fact, Steve ended up having to buy some ski socks and good gloves, costing 45 euros, 4 times more than we had paid for everything else. (This wasn't, as Steve wants pointed out, because he insisted on having new stuff whilst we wore rags, but because we couldn't find socks and gloves for him at the car boot sale.)
Lesson Two: Pack Car
We have a small/medium sized car, a Ford Focus. The amount of things loaded into the car was enough to make it groan. The ski outfits are bulky. The snow boots and walking boots are bulky. The numerous layers of clothing (vests, t-shirts, sweatshirts and more sweatshirts, and coats) are bulky. Added to this are Teddy, pink cat (Milly), Dolphin, Steve's laptop (for fear of computer withdrawal) and a bag of swimming things for when we visited the thermal outdoor pools. In retrospect I packed too many warm clothes, but I guess this is better than not having packed enough.
Lessons 1 and 2 completed, we set off to Font Romeu in the Pyrenees. It's a family friendly resort and recommended for beginners. The Sete Ski Club use it for their frequent trips to the mountains. It took just less than 3 hours to get there, and that included a brief 'fresh air' break for poor Imo who suffers from travel sickness. The village looked a bit grim and gloomy at first and there was a bitterly cold wind. We had lunch in a cafe/bar and had really bad/slow/disinterested service which made me feel gloomy about the rest of our short stay (the food, when it eventually arrived, was good though). We went to the hire shop to pick up our, skis and sticks. The girls liked trying on their kit, and were getting very excited. Then at about 5pm millions of people started filling the streets as they came back down from the mountain; all plodding along the road in their gear.
Lesson Three: Storage of ski gear
The next morning (my 43rd birthday, and the day on which Mooshi said, 'Mummy what are those black circles around your eyes?') we got our ski gear on and stumbled about 400m along the road to the cable car. Hard work! I was carrying my skis, my sticks, Mooshi's skis and holding her hand - all in clunky ski boots. I hadn't realised that we got to the actual ski resort by cable car - not as bad as going in an aeroplane but not a lot better!! Anyway, a 6 minute ride took us up to the mountain. This was like entering a different world. Everything was white and Christmassy. I'd never been anywhere like this before and it did have a dream-like quality to it. It was packed with skiers, with a very high proportion of children. My guess is that about 85% of people there were French, 14% Spanish and the remaining 1%, us and other odd-bods.
Lugging all our gear up and down in the cable car each day was tiring. Just as we were leaving on the last day I noticed a huge building, which had lockers in, where we could have stored our gear - arrghhhh. Hey ho, next time.
And now a special thank you to Imo for organising a truly splendid birthday. She festooned our hotel room with birthday balloons, flags and drawings. Thank you Imo!
Lesson Four: How to ski
We had 3 full days at the resort, and on the first morning Imo and Mooshi had a private lesson for 2 hours. We were unsure how this would work out as 3 and 7 are very different ages when it comes to sporting ability etc. A not-particularly-welcoming instructor called Thomas whisked them away and said he'd bring them back in 2 hours. The children's ski school is very active and after watching for about half an hour I decided that it used all the same teaching principles as when teaching mini-tennis. For the first half hour or so we could see their lesson. Thomas was holding Mooshi and Imo was tentatively walking with her skis. Then, we couldn't see them anymore... Whilst the girls were away I was getting used to 'gliding' without falling over. I went on the nursery slopes, one reached by a travelator (moving carpet) and one by sitting on a 'monkey swing'. After 2 hours we went back to pick up the girls. Imo was well-chuffed and told me that she had gone down a green run twice, along-side Thomas, and that she hadn't fallen over!!! Mooshi was upset and very, very glad to see me. Imo said the instructor had taken her up the green run as well and had whizzed her down in between his legs, letting her go from time to time and that she had fallen a few times. If I'd known he was intending to take Mooshi up on a green run I would have said NO!! To those of you who aren't skiers, green runs are huge and steep and scary, probably about 2kms long. (Yeah, yeah, to those of you who do ski, you may scoff at green runs but honestly through a novices eyes they are big!)
We then had lunch and sat in the cold wind, but very warm sun. It was about 9-10 degrees and the snow was melting quite fast. This resort has 500 snow canons though and when the snow cover is getting a bit low they turn them on at night. After lunch Imo and Mooshi went into a 'Kid's Club' and Steve and I met up with Didier for our 2 hour private lesson. Didier was lovely, and a nice bit of eye-candy. Because Steve has skied several times before Didier concentrated on me (nice) and asked me to show him what I could do, so I whizzed off down the biggest nursery slope with great speed and no control. He gave me a few pointers on how to gain control and then we got in the 6-abreast chair lift and went up the mountain. I was pretty anxious, I had no idea that after only 15 minutes of a skiing lesson I would be expected to go down that huge, long, steep 'green' slope!!!!!!!! Basically I followed close behind Didier, copying his every move. We went down very slowly, me with the 'brakes on' most of the time. The first parts of the slope were really very gentle, but the last part was much steeper than the rest, and I was somewhat alarmed when I saw this, so I went down very gingerly indeed. Then, we got in the chair lift and did it all again. Didier went faster this time, so I did too - and fell over several times - always after changing directions as I tried to regain control. By the time I reached the bottom of the slope my toes were clenched and I had even less confidence about my skiing ability than before. (I am reluctant to say this, but Steve didn't fall over going down the green run, although he did fall over several times whilst getting on/off ski-lifts etc. So not a total loss of face for me.)
Lesson Five: Definition of Relief
Relief is what one feels when removing ski boots after having worn them non-stop for 10 hours.
Lesson Six: How to be a pushy parent
On the morning of the second day Steve organised ski passes, more lessons etc. We took a picnic lunch up in the cable car with us. I had the luxury of going up in walking boots as my job for the day was to look after Mooshi whilst Steve and Imo went skiing. I helped Mooshi do some skiing, by taking her up the nursery slopes and running down behind her, gently holding her belt so that if she fell I could stop her. She really loved it and was pretty good at it (I think). I have never seen so many pushy parents in my life. Not having ever been a part of the ski-scene before I hadn't realised what a bunch of fanatics there would be. Parents skiing with their young babies in backpacks, or toddlers in sledges being pulled along behind them. Two year olds upwards in all the gear being forced to ski - I say 'forced' as I saw many, many children screaming blue murder that they didn't want to do it and then being let go by their parents at the top of the slope. Children skiing with dummies in!!! And lots of the (sorry, but it's true) very, very harsh treatment of children by their parents - so much whacking, shouting and general nastiness when their children didn't perform perfectly. That said, there were a huge number of 3 and 4 year olds skiing competently, not just down the nursery slopes but down the proper runs as well.
Imo had been inscribed into a group lesson. There were about 10 children aged roughly 7 - 9 years, and all about the same standard. Whilst I was looking after Mooshi (actually, that afternoon she just fell asleep on me in the cafe for 2.5 hours - knackered!) Steve followed Imo's group up the mountain and back down again, so he's got some good video of her skiing.
Lesson Seven: How to Ski, part 2
After a sleepless night (Steve snoring, Mooshi coming to visit me many times, slightly stuffy room, and negative thoughts about whizzing down green runs) we stomped up the street again to the cable car and went up to the now very much melted snow. The temperature was about 10 degrees, and the sun very strong. Where lots of people skied the ground was very slushy and some of the runs had to be closed as they were dangerous. Steve had a lesson - on his own - to avoid going like a snail with me - and I looked after Imo and Mooshi. Mooshi did a few more little runs with me and then played in the snow. I had decided that although Didier was rather fetching, that I needed another lesson to give me some confidence, so I had an hour with Andre. An hour isn't much, it only allows for two trips down the green run. Andre was excellent, not eye-candy, but very kind and gave me much more information than Didier had. I think that Didier had just wanted me to get down the slope in more or less sound body and mind whereas Andre spoke a lot about technique etc (at least I think this was what he was doing, it was all in French). We concentrated on changing direction, braking and then, I'm not sure why, he started teaching me flash stuff like skiing on one foot... Anyway, by the time I had descended the green run for the second time he said, 'OK, off you go now by yourself'. So, with my toes very tightly clenched, and my confidence in limbo I set off up on the ski-lift for my first solo green run. Hmmm, at this point I realised that I hadn't been looking where I was going before - only at my feet. The layout of runs at Font Romeu is like a rabbit warren of green, red, blue and black runs. And I set off down a slope suddenly aware that it didn't seem familiar at all. Then I reached a Y junction, but couldn't see what colour the runs were marked so I waited until someone whizzed down past me and shouted at them asking if it was a green run. The guy said it was so I went for it. OK, so it may have been green but it was a special run with ramps, slalom, etc and a very steep bit to finish on which I slid down sideways on at an embarrassingly slow speed (in fact, speed is the wrong word). This was a bit of a baptism by fire, but I felt chuffed that I had done it. The worst over, I went back up again, again and again.... until it was time to pick up Imo from her lesson and Mooshi from her Kid's Club.
Lesson Eight: All good things come to an end
We traipsed back down into the village and gave back our hired gear. Imo was very upset, she has decided that she's born to ski and wants to go back there, right now, for some more. The next morning we drove back to Sete via a visit to a Solar Oven and the thermal pools which were pretty impressive.
Lessons learned:
1) the gear takes up a huge amount of room in a car
2) it is very, very expensive (although apparently Font Romeu is cheaper than most)
3) that you can go down enormous slopes slowly and in control
4) that you don't have to have aches and pains afterwards... (people always bang on about skiing being hard physical work, but I found it quite relaxing - other than the clenched toes!!)
Did I enjoy it?
Sort of. Yes, I'd do it again, but being a control freak I have no desire to become a ski-bunny or to hurtle down black runs. It's made me keen to try cross-country, where the emphasis is on physical exertion rather than speed.
I'm relieved to say that we made it back with no broken legs, and having had no avalanches. Phew!