Skiing holidays- the chance to spend a week escaping the relentless wheel of mundane existence by transforming into this super cool girl exuding positive vibes, zipping past upturned skis, long golden tresses flying impressively in the air…… nahhh, what am I talking about!!!
In my case, even after many ski vacations, it is still construed as throwing myself down the side of a mountain over and over again, with bruises on the rearside the size of apples and pears and of course, totally bashed egos 😂😂😂
Dressed up like a puffy penguin, I still dream of a day when I would stand next to the svelte leggy Russian blondes (sans their bald, paunchy owners!) resplendent in shiny onesies and fur hats. No ugly black helmets for them, oh noooo….. 🙄🙄
The ski lifts, espc the button lifts, still scare me and so do the train of ducklings that glide past emerging into swans at the end of the week while I still pizza my way down, butt high up in the air, elbows and ski poles outstretched, ready to spear the unsuspecting snowboarder behind me !!
But skiing holidays are not all that bad……. it amounts to hundreds of funny stories that my kids narrate year after year, of mum being the perennial tumbling clown on the slopes, long nights of wine and cheese, waking up to snow covered roofs with white smoke billowing out of chimneys and to the smell of fresh baguettes.
Take me to the slopes again……
To my Kids with Love 