Your First Ever Ski Holiday?

A snowHead

@codyaitch,

A snowHead

My wife and I were skiing in Andorra a few years back and we met a guy in his late 60's who'd just started skiing.

He'd brought a coach load of kids from the UK and got bored hanging around all day for them to finish ski school so he hired some gear and just joined in.

He was a pretty good skier too. We met him cruising the blues & reds and he seemed perfectly in control despite his late start.

Ouch!

Well, the person's real but it's just a made up name, see?

for me it was 1992 in val thorens (during the winter Olympics)and it coincided with my 25th birthday, went with 3 other blokes on the old overnight ski train from Calais, although myself and one of my mates had never skied before I was tasked with organising it via teletext holiday pages, hadn't a clue what I was looking for. I remember sitting for ages as the pages continually rotated around, for me to get back to the skiworld advert, it was £200 each including travel and a cramped self catering apartment.
I remember being hooked from the first minute we took to the slopes, and I still recall our ESF instructors name, Lulu a stunning young French beauty!!!

I had not got a clue you could get sunburnt on a skiing holiday.

I went on from there to have at least 2 ski trips a year including one to the states, then I did nearly 3 seasons in meribel where I met my future wife and mother of our girls.
have not been skiing for nearly 10 years due to family and financial commitments, but we are going in a few weeks time for the first time as a family, girls are 12 and 9 and have learnt at hemel already and seem to have got the bug, I think I am just as excited if not more than them, and cannot wait to see them on the mountains for the first time and to see them with massive smiles on their faces like I had on my first trip. Laughing

You need to Login to know who's really who.

@terrygasson, Great story. I hope you all have a fantastic time.

Anyway, snowHeads is much more fun if you do.

thanks @cad99uk

You'll need to Register first of course.

My first lesson was on a dry slope at school, was about 14. They showed us to snowplow, then onto the slope, first station and snowplow down to a stop. Every single kid never snowplowed enough and there was a we cluster of near 15 kids, all on the floor with ski's everywhere after smashing into the inflatable wall at the end. Took me a good few years to recover haha. I finally gave it a proper shot last year for a week and a few days in scotland and im hooked and going out to france on saturday!

Then you can post your own questions or snow reports...

Soldeu, Andorra, March 1986, 21st birthday present from Mum n Dad, went with my older brother, got hammered every night and by the third day I didn't seem to be getting very far and would have happily gone home so I hid from my brother one night and stayed relatively sober and on the fourth day everything clicked and I didn't want to come home by the last day, been 2-3 weeks every year since.
I miss the old "undeveloped" atmosphere in Soldeu, the lift system in the 80's was dire but it was so much more friendly, almost everyones instructor would be in the bar on the evening, none of this "showing responsible corporate image" it was almost entirely British on the slopes through the week and many on this forum would throw their hands in horror at this thought but the lift queues through the week were a friendly, two by two line with no pushing of shoving but on the weekends the French & Spanish showed up and the lift queues turned fan shaped as everyone just pushed in at the front so, unless you pushed and shoved your way to the front too, you got left behind.

After all it is free

Another late starter - large family so my folks couldn't afford to send me on the school trips and they had zero interest in any sports anyway.

I found myself at the age of 28 being invited on a New Year skiing holiday with my mate and his brother, one of his mates, mate's girlfriend and her female pal and the Aussie flatmate's brother, all in our late 20s, all with polar opposites of ability - 3 experts, 2 beginners, 2 novices. Bought a load of end of season ski kit from an outlet shop near that well known ski area of Cambridge.

We flew from Gatwick to Lyons at a ridiculously early time in the morning, not helped by sinking a bottle of whisky the night before and trying to sleep on the floor. The bonus for some was that we arrived in La Plagne in the afternoon, so we had time to sort out photographs for lift passes and get me some lovely atomic straight skis for my beginner status and still be able to hit the slopes. It hadn't snowed for a while there and I'd had a grand total of 4 hours untutored / self taught sliding at Glenshee maybe 3 years previously. I couldn't turn for toffee and suddenly started to regret paying all this money for what was going to be an awful week.

Still, none of this slumming it with biting wind and awful food stuff - we were staying in a luxury catered chalet, ski door to door, cordon bleu chef, the works. The only downside was that the hot water couldn't quite make 8 showers at the end of the day and my best mate didn't believe doing these things quickly. He could, and did, use all the hot water himself until he was banished to having the last one of the day.

The Aussie chap was from Perth and had qualified as an accountant. Belatedly realised that accountancy was a really dull line of work and took up a bar job so he could surf during the day. Emigrated on his dad's Scottish roots to London, got a job as a motorbike courier and decided that snowboarding was really the same as surfing. In fairness, he picked it up very very quickly. I don't think there's many day 1 boarders trying to jumps at every opportunity. He'd never seen snow before either! We showed him how to make snow angels. Then followed this up by shoving snow down his neck while he was on the ground.

I always thought you'd get bored of spending a whole day sliding around from hill to hill. You couldn't possibly enjoy doing it for a whole week. When I'd finally mastered the art of turning right as well as left, I was hooked. 25 years later, I have a loft full of skis and get away for about 2 weeks a year and live close to Glencoe. Still friends with all of the above group, although various circumstances have prevented us from skiing together since.

@terrygasson, hope you have a totally amazing time snowHead

*Ski* the Net with snowHeads

Back in March 1985, at the age of 32, went to Tignes with a group of friends who had all skied many times before. I spent as much time as I could on the dry slope at Aldershot and thought I could ski ok. Spent 3 days in bed with 'flu and got up early on the Sat to catch the flight still not fully recovered.

First day on a blue slope I quickly discovered both bumps and a big increase in speed and wondered why I was there as I still had no energy. By wednesday I was fit enough to ski all day and had a private lesson which boosted my confidence. By Friday remember skiing down to La Daille trying to find patches of snow between the patches of mud (limited snow making back then) and the rest of the party always knowing where I was by the hacking cough that had followed the 'flu.

I was hooked and been as many times as possible since.

snowHeads are a friendly bunch.

@terrygasson,
That's fantastic. I LOVE skiing with my kids. Not just the downhill - the "side by side" chats on the chairlifts are quality time too.

snow reports

thanks @jedster, @under a new name, am also looking to all the other aspects of the holiday not just the "downhill" side.

1990 went to Hillend in Edinburgh with girlfriend who could ski well. I was a 16 year old sport billy who was good at every sport i tried so skiing would be easy. Despite there being a sign at the reception stating no beginners due to the hard packed ice on the top of the artificial matting I paid my money got my kit on ignored my girlfriend's pleas to take me to the nursery slope and got on the chairlift to the top. Fell flat on my face when getting off but that was just a glitch as I slid forward to the top of the face. This is easy as I began sliding for three metres before falling onto my backside and sliding all the way to the bottom where skis were removed and I declared skiing was stupid and not a real sport.

2011 and my new partner is a skier of high standard. I am keen to give it another try. I will take you up Hillend and teach you she says. Not bloody likely says me lets go to Braehead to the snow dome. I booked a lesson and on the way in I went into Ellis Brigham shop and relieved my bank account of £400 as I slipped into my new North Face jacket and trousers. I was committed this time. Snow ploughed my way through two hours without falling and thought i can do this. Another lesson a couple of weeks later and i had progressed to a snow ploughy type parallel turn. Encouraged by my other half i thought i was Franz Klammer. Holiday booked that day to L2A for January. As january loomed she suggested we nip up to Hillend for some practice as it is only 15 minutes from home. Lets go says me keen to improve further. Similiar scenario occurs as she wants to give me a little refresher on the nursery slope which is full of 5 year olds. No i am fine and off i go up the tow to the top. A final pointer from my good lady totally ignored as i set off keen to show my new skills, within 5 seconds I am sh***ing myself as I career downhill unable to slow myself down or turn getting faster and faster with the OH behind shouting instructions that i cannot do until the inevitable happens and I sit back and wipe out spectacularly. I feel instant pain in my left thumb and start to feel queezy. Joined by the OH i spit my dummy out big time throwing the rubbish skis into the gorse and telling her the artificial surface is rubbish and its not my fault. I tell her i think my thumb is broken and typically she says you will just have staved it.

i pull my glove off to expose the horror of my left thumb now banana shaped and pointing in a direction even a double jointed person would struggle to achieve. Does it look bloody staved i shout as we head off to the hospital (great £40 spent on skiing passes). I had managed to snap my thumb in 3 places dislocate the joint and rupture the ligament. Luckily after an op and three casts I was packed and ready for France.

To say the mountains took my breath away was an understatement i loved it and headed off to the beginners ski school full of smiles and cheer determined i would ski the whole mountain by the end of the week. end of day 2 at ski school i am in total agony still snow ploughing and just taken my life in my hands skiing that horrendous green path down to resort. Arrive at the little dutch bar near our chalet (Vie bar) to meet the others from my chalet throw my skis in the snow and declare that is it i am never skiing again it is stupid and the instructor is useless he spends all day chatting up the birds (which he did). Said i was going to take my skis back to the shop in the morning and get a snowboard and teach myself cause it cannot be as hard as skiing. much laughing and p**s taking from the others and a night out where i got very drunk coming in at 5am. 0830 am that day the OH wakes me and says are you going to ski school, i can't repeat what i said but i never went and went back to sleep. 11am she wakes me up and could not be any nicer coaxing me up the mountain with those bloody planks. Within 1 hour at les Cretes green I was parallel turning properly and was in heaven. I probably looked awful but i felt like i had cracked it. Few more runs there and off we went keen to get me on a blue run and improve my skills. The blue run i ended up at can only be described as a sheer drop and there was no way i was going down it. side slipped all the way and then had to walk for ages as you needed to bomb it down to clear the flat section. So i had mastered some skills but was now terrified of the steep. The following day it was snowing heavily and you could not see very well. This showed me i could ski down it because the flat light took away the steepness.

anyway to fast forward to 2016, I am about to go to mayrhofen in March which will be ski holiday number 8, I can ski down anything and even venture off piste and do little jumps along the way. Skiing is the greatest thing i have ever done and if everything works out well i will retire to the mountains hopefully before i am 60 which is a good way away. I now understand the people who say it is the greatest holiday ever cause it is. nothing matters in the mountains i am just the happiest person alive when on the piste, the lift or the bar.

sorry for boring you with that ridiculous long story but i just kept typing.

You know it makes sense.

@mikeelsa, have you ever been diagnosed as bipolar? Very Happy

Otherwise you'll just go on seeing the one name:

@mikeelsa, great you stuck at it. It's amazing on that one day that something just "clicks" and you feel it all coming together, then the mountains are yours to play in.
I've skied for a long time but I still remember that moment Rory clearly.
My friend who has never skied before is joining me next month, "to see what this skiing malarkey is all about". She has had one lesson at dry slope in Aberdeen and said it was great, one more and then we're off to Slovenia. Fingers crossed lol

A snowHead

not bipolar just a really competitive nightmare if I lose or can't do something. I am also grumpy in general unless in the mountains where i can only be described as an over excited cheshire cat

A snowHead

1991 Avoriaz

I was 21 and 3 of us went in a hotel (B&B) my 2 friends had both skied since they were kids but I was the complete beginner but we used to meet up at lunch after my ski lesson.

The room was quite cramped for 3 of us and to make things worse we met someone who had gone last minute and had a 10 person chalet to their own

I had a blue and green M&S ski jacket and blue sallopettes. The snow that January was not very good. When we arrived my mate asked this guy in reception what the conditions were like "poo-poo" was the reply.

Lessons were provided by the holiday rep for some reason but I progressed reasonably well. As the snow cover was not great I remember falling at the side of the piste and getting covered in mud!

by the the last day of the holiday it had snowed but became too windy for a lot of the lifts to run!

Well, the person's real but it's just a made up name, see?

My first ski trip was a long weekend in the late 1990s in Villars, Switzerland with my husband and another couple. I was the only complete beginner.

The very first day…

I simply could NOT believe how difficult it was! I said to myself "why the hell would anyone want to put themselves through this"! Not just the skiing itself, but the queues, the biting cold, the crippling boots, the weight of the skis, the interminable walk to the little train that took you up to the ski station carrying said skis. It didn’t help that the weather was atrocious and I couldn’t see more than a couple of feet ahead.

Nor did it help that my girlfriend (a nice person usually) is an inconsiderate sod when it comes to skiing.

Having never skied before, she convinced the others that I would be fine on an 'easy red'. For fecks sake! I eventually made it down – admittedly mostly on my a*se – but then had to use a button lift to get back to the top of a piste. After falling off half a dozen times, being clacked on the head by a swinging button, wiping out a small kid when I couldn’t stop, being shouted at by several skiers and instructors, I lay down in a heap of snow at the edge of the piste. And I wept. More accurately, I howled hysterically. My husband was afraid to approach as I was violently swinging my ski poles in his direction.

After much cajoling and soothing - where he convinced me that it was simply not possible to send a snow mobile to pick me up - I eventually agreed to remove my skis and walk with him to a nearby restaurant. I couldn’t even speak over lunch I was so distraught. I was like a child who has worn themselves out crying - just emitting the occasional hiccoughing sob. I couldn’t eat anything, but I did down several strong drinks if my memory serves me well. I was fully ready to go home there and then. But my husband (who should work for the UN) managed to calm me down a little. Then he disappeared for half an hour and returned with a rather easy-on-the-eye private instructor. It would have been rude to say no. There followed a reasonably ok afternoon – grasping the very basics on a nursery slope. I felt rather proud of myself at the end of the day and booked another private lesson for the following morning.

But the story doesn’t end there.

The following morning I woke bright and early feeling optimistic and pleased with myself. My lesson was early so I left the others having breakfast in the hotel and made my way alone on the little train up to the ski station where I was to meet my instructor. I felt terribly proud of myself.

But then… half way up the mountain … disaster struck. The packed train juddered to a halt. There was an announcement that there had been a small avalanche on the track and that the train was going no further. The moans of complaint rang out throughout the carriages. But not from me. I was simply dumbfounded. Before I knew it, the train emptied and I watched all these experienced skiers swish swish their way to join another piste and a lower lift. I could hardly catch my breath. This was pre-mobile phone days. Even the driver seemed to have vanished. I sat on the edge of the piste. And wept. This was becoming a habit. There were skiers passing me by but I simply didn’t have the courage at the time to tell them that I needed help. After half an hour freezing my t*ts off, and realising that I couldn’t ski down, I decided to walk. WALK UP THE FECKING MOUNTAIN. I carried my skies and followed the edge of the train tracks. The weather came in again and I was in a blizzard. With every step, my boots sunk in up to my calves. I kept falling over. I was like Jesus on Calvary. It took me almost three hours. It felt like 30. As I approached the ski station it was nearly lunchtime and I was even a few minutes early for my rendez-vous with my friends and husband. I saw them waiting in the distance – they smiled and waved at me expecting me to tell them about the fantastic morning I had experienced. I was fecking knackered, but I still managed to find the energy to drop my skis and charge at them, poles in the air shouting obscenities I couldn’t possibly repeat.

I still go skiing. I am still pretty shite at it. And I am still Calamity Jane with disasters befalling me on most trips.

You need to Login to know who's really who.

1985(ish), Valmorel.

I was 14, it was an all boys school trip. A local girls grammar school were in the same resort, which would have been fantastic if it weren't for the fact that I was a massive idiot, completely got the wrong end of the stick and spectacularly failed to get off with a beautiful girl who for some unknown (and unnoticed) reason was expressing an interest in a young me. Bloody idiot.

On the slopes we were split into two groups - those who had skied before (other than lessons at our local dry slope - Bowles... It's still there, we went for a pre trip warm up last week), and those who hadn't. Me & my windsurfing and rollerskating mate Gavin were put in the latter, but were pretty bored after the first day, so asked to move up. Day two found us on a black run which memory at least has furnished with some massive bumps. There were tears from some, but we made it down. I think that was my 'hooked' moment.

We had lessons morning and afternoon, so precious little time on our own. The one-quick-run over lunch was amazing, as we had to wolf down lunch, get up the chair and back down again in short order. Of course, the chair took longer than we had available for the whole up & down trip, so we flew down. Somewhere beyond the point of being in control. Nowadays, I'd be looking at these silly boys, risking their own safety, and that of anyone else foolish enough to be on the slopes as them and part of me would be tutting, the other part desperately envious of the sheer unconcerned joy of the whole thing.

Some other highlights...
The evening meal starter - may have been onion soup, or may have been hot water & un-named brown stuff. Most didn't eat it.
Clipping the back of a classmate's head with the tip of my ski on the bumps at the side of a piste home. He was less than happy.

Dancing to James Brown on one of those little mono cassette decks that everyone had in the 80's.

Clubbing together to buy our teachers and their partners *loads* of beer as a thank you for taking us on holiday and giving it all to them on the last night. I honestly don't think they could have hoped to get through it all before the flight back. Though in fairness, they might have needed it.

Our young trendy instructor walking back up the hill to get his bright pink trendy poles which he'd left behind at the last bend-ze-kneez stop.

The look of fury on my chemistry teacher's face on the day we went out on monoskis(!) when the husband of one of the teachers from the other school lost his edge and barrelled into me, causing me to slide along his upturned edge. It wasn't so much the crash that angered my teacher, it was my scream of W********NKERRRRRR that involuntarily slipped out as we went over. Oops.

All of which set me up nicely for my second trip... Sixteen sixteen year-olds without any adult supervision in Pas de la Casa. As a parent myself now, I can't quite believe this was allowed to happen. Or that I made it home.

But I did, and this year I'm off to do my BASI level 1 in Morzine. Smile

Anyway, snowHeads is much more fun if you do.

Another one late to the party Toofy Grin

I was 40 had never had any interest in skiing but friends organised a night out at the newly opened Xscape at Castleford. I really didn't want to go but they booked me a lesson & an hour later I wanted to go for real!
I persuaded the other half (who'd skied several times with school & always wanted to go back but I'd always said no) that we should join in their ski trip & just a few weeks later 34 of us set off to Corvara Laughing

From then I was hooked & we've skied twice a year ever since.
Next week we're going back to Corvara for the first time in 12 years & I can't wait Very Happy

Just wish I'd either never started or started much earlier in life.........

You'll need to Register first of course.

Started skiing at ages 34 and 3.5 for me and my son respectively. Moved to Sweden four years earlier and always felt if you live in the Nordics you have to get into winter sports. My wife saw a cheap Groupon deal for short week at end of season in Stöten in Sälen and we booked it on a whim with zero research into anything. Suffered the 5-6 hour drive but had a lovely time. Took the advice of my colleagues though and booked my son into ski school and private lessons for myself. After watching my son on his tiny skis with massive helmet go up the travelator, ski down and do a little turn at the bottom, I was in love with the sport. My wife never got into it, but loves nature and the great outdoors. A few equally unresearched trips in Sweden followed (think sheer ice), but now we ski over 20-30 days a year and those days with my son on the slopes are the best in the year.

Then you can post your own questions or snow reports...

About 1978 we went on family holiday to visit relatives in Scotland, we carried on further North and had an hours lesson on the dry slope at Aviemore.

Fast forward to 1984 and went on a school trip by coach staying in Les Coches, our school teacher was of Italian decent and a skier and brought along a younger very attractive female....ahem.....'assistant' with him to help manage the kids. She wasn't from our school and although she had her own room was never there when any of the girls neede her but could easily be found in the room of our teacher wink

That was me hooked and I have been almost every season since including a few weeks working in Saas Fee around '93 instructing/ guiding kids from UK international schools.

After all it is free

Think it was 1990, went to Mayrhofen with University OTC. Part of the attraction, apart from the trip by coach, was the fact that we got paid a daily stipend when on exercise and amazingly this qualified as an exercise. Thus, thanks to the taxpayer, quite a cheap holiday as skiing goes. Now before any letters begin to be drafted to MPs I think this was the last year that this was the case.

After aforementioned joy of a coach trip we got to the valley to find buggery all snow. Got issued kit, rear entry boots and lovely long straight skis. But once we went up on the gondola all was good. We got put into ski school but dont think the instructor took to us, cant think why. Whats not to like about a bunch of undergrads recovering from the night before or otherwise braying and not mentioning the war?

Recently came across my certificate from the ski school for the end of week race, it says either a 1 or 7 place. I'm saying its 1. Also great photo of the instructors with mullets and their even longer ski's. Believe the ski's have changed these days?

Dont remember much else apart from breaking a boot at the hinge and handing it back to the rental shop. Dont know how this happened but someone said easier to break your leg than the boot.

After that thought skiing a great sport and got away most years after that until left the UK for a while, had kids etc. Now skiing again!

Mine was 1980 or 81, age 6ish, with my little brother, late father and then step mother and stepbrother who was mid teens I think, bless he had to share an Austria twin in a little gasthaus (am thinking Sonnwend?) in Alpbach with his two pesky newly acquired step siblings! I hated it, I remember the 2nd week everyone was faster than me including my little brother and to cap it all my ski pole got stuck on a chairlift and I ended up going round the wheel at the top hanging on by one arm! Fortunately my old man did not put with whinging children and took us at least once a year afterwards to some lovely hotels with swimming pools in Alpbach, Hintertux, Gargellen, Saalbach and also a couple in Switzerland. He loved skiing but also thoroughly enjoyed 4 & 5 star hotels and the apres that went with it, he worked a 70 hr week so fair play to him!

At some point my brother went off it (the steps disappeared out the equation too) but me and Dad continued to love it - I ended up aged 14 in the local ski guiding group as went beyond ski school and Dad could no longer keep up! He also paid for 3 school ski trip's in my teens too but, being a self made man, firmly believed once I was 16 I should get a job and pay for my own trips, hence went once at uni as part of the BUSC in '93 and not until I met richard_sideways 8 years ago did I go again.

Fearing I'd be back to beginner level, I tentatively hired the most basic of skis and set off - those skis (weird things they were too, I'd last skied on 180cm long blue Kastle's) were back in the hire shop at the end of the first day in disgust, upgraded to the latest kit and there began a new tradition of beating that pesky snowboarder to the bottom of every run Toofy Grin

Not missed a season since, the little sideways are most definitely snowHead

too, skied while pregnant both times so the mountain air must habe got to them both inside!

Funnily enough, while sorting out Dad's house, came across carbons of letters he'd written to headteachers excusing us from school, even in the 80's the same "it's educational, learning new skills and another culture" blag was out there. I also found a vintage Mäser ski top he'd worn which is now one of my base layers, the old man is skiing in spirit with his grandsons even though he never met the younger one!

*Ski* the Net with snowHeads

There are some lovely stories emerging here.

Keep 'em coming!

Ouch!

snowHeads are a friendly bunch.

in 18 days time Me & my 2 sons will be going on our first ski holiday, we have all learnt at Hillend & have had 1 day at Avimore. The memories of my thighs burning still scare me.
Hope we really really like it as the main reason for the trip is to sign & pick up the keys for the apartment we bought on a whim!!!!!!!

snow reports

Lake Louise in Canada about 7 or 8 years ago - I was about 22, didn't ski or snowboard, but a couple of my friends (snowboarders) had found a deal on lastminute.com (when genuine deals could actually be found) which was about £300 each for flights, transfers and a week's self catering. Fancied the idea of going to Canada to went to Xscape for some snowboarding lessons.

Passed all my lessons, got out to Canada, had another lesson with a couple of the other people in the group who were beginners, and then went on to go "to the top of the mountain" (as I saw it then, which meant I went up in a bubble). Took what must have been a blue down, where one of my friends fell and lost his confidence. I suggested we go back to the beginner slope for him to regain his confidence.

On said beginners slope, I fell in a strange way and, unluckily, broke my collar bone. This must have been about 4 hours into a one week holiday. Spent the rest of the week in a sling.

Knew I loved snowboarding anyway, and would never go back to it if I didn't do something drastic (I'm not very sporty) so bought a snowboard, bindings and boots with my arm still in a sling. If I'd spent £500 on it, I'd have to go back!

Now try to get onto snow at any opportunity that I can, and I spend my life thinking about it and planning trips, plus it's got me into surfing as well (trying to get the same buzz in the summer months).

I went skiing with a school I"d just left when I was 11 (I left at the end of the summer term and the holiday was probably January?) Sadly, the only things I can remember is that there were moguls, really big ones (I can't remember skiing on them or anywhere else tho), the St Bernard puppy in the village and the female teacher with us trying to make herself shorter at the ski hire counter by bending her knees!! Apparently this trip was to Val d'Isere according to my mum. I am quite sad that I can't remember actually skiing

Anyway - roll on thirty years and I had a mid life crisis and wanted to 'opt out of real life'. A friend recommended being a chalet host, so I thought yeah, go for it!

I had my first lesson and second lessons (that I could remember!) on the first day of the season and loved it. Did about 4.5 hours skiing that day and was shattered. Unfortunately, the manager 'forgot' to tell me about my second lesson and I didn't progress, just fell over a LOT until a really bad fall over Christmas when I decided that sod it, I can just cook and walk and look at the view. When the other managers found out about that, they booked me into ski school at the beginning of January and I spent a week learning properly. It was amazing. I did three seasons as a chalet host and am currently doing one as a bum!! But using the time to find somewhere to live and a job for next season Smile

I love the mountains, skiing and even snowboarding (!) so much that I plan to move out here Smile

You know it makes sense.

My wife and I decided we wanted to learn to ski after seeing a TV programme in the late seventies or early eighties about a bunch of absolute beginners in Soll, it was hilarious, looked such fun and although they got into all sorts of scrapes they really looked like they enjoyed themselves.

I was 37 before we started as we waited until our son was four and daughter six before going to our local dry slope for lessons, (Borowski in Newhaven, it was indoor but only about 30-40 metres long). We did a deal with the owners and exchanged fitted bedroom furniture for lessons, clothing and holiday kit hire.

We started lessons in late summer and we were hooked straight away, we had one, two or even three sessions a week and by the time we went on our first trip to Flaine in January 1988 we were all quite proficient skiers. My wife and I were getting the hang of parallel turns and we were so keen we had bought our own boots before even stepping on snow, (rear entry was all the rage back then).

I can’t remember the name of the hotel at the moment but it was one of the largest in Flaine, I think we chose it because it included wine with dinner, had good facilities for the kids with their own dining room and was just a short walk to the slopes and ski school meeting point.

We had booked morning lessons for all of us and anyone with kids knows how much has to done to get them ready so by the time we got them to their ski class we had missed the start of ours, we asked someone where to find it and a group down near the middle of the nursery slope was pointed out.

The real snow felt really slippery but we managed to ski down to the group and reported to our instructor, he had seen us ski down and immediately said we were too advanced for that group as they had just walked down and were about to be shown how to snowplough. He pointed towards a chairlift heading half way up the mountain, told us who to ask for and sent us on our way.

We made it to the top, found our new instructor and off we went, our first ever green run all the way to the bottom where again we were deemed too good for that group and sent on our way again to the next class up, a blue run was the next challenge which we rose to admirably.

We were so pleased with ourselves but were brought down to earth with a bump when we met the kids for lunch and asked them where they had been, they pointed to the top of the mountain and said they had skied all the way down, twice. We skied as a family in the afternoons and although we were tired out each evening we were loving it.

Day three and my wife was feeling weary and had a bit of an upset tummy so decided to have rest day. I got the kids to their lesson and went on mine, by this time easy red runs were being tackled without too much trouble. I met the kids for lunch and suggested we have the afternoon off, no chance they wanted more.

They pointed out on the piste map where they wanted to go and this involved a drag lift, they said they had been on a drag lift yesterday so no problem. What we didn’t realise was that this drag lift was really long, really steep and just to add a bit of interest had a steep 90 degree bend in it just after an up-down over a bridge and they had only been on short straight easy ones.

My seven year old daughter went first, five year old son second and me third, I was carrying their sticks to make it a bit easier for them to hold on. Daughter just made the up-down and turn, son went in the air on the up-down and sideways on the turn, one ski came off and I thought that’s it he’s off but no, he wrapped his arms around the button and wouldn’t let go, he was bouncing all over the place but no amount of shouting at him to let go worked, he was a determined little bug and he was going to the top upside down or not.

As we neared the top the attendant was standing ready to hit the stop button but he realised where he was and let go just in time to slide down the off ramp where daughter was waiting to gather him up. Daughter and I were far more shaken up than him and it was difficult to tell him off so I just tried to explain what could have happened to him.

As I had managed to lean down and somehow grab his ski we were able, after a short rest, to carry on skiing, he just flew ahead as usual, it was the first time I realised that he had no bloody fear at all and he never changed.

The rest of the week was great and we were totally hooked, my wife wouldn’t let me take the kids out by themselves again though. The following year we talked friends of ours with kids the same age into coming to Flaine with us and we all skied together for many years until the kids grew up.

I’ve just read this through and it’s a long story and I don’t want to bore anyone so I’ll carry on with some more skiing history another time, there’s lots of it.

Otherwise you'll just go on seeing the one name:

@teerev, I suspect the tv show you saw was On The Piste, absolutely hilarious indeed! http://snowheads.com/ski-forum/viewtopic.php?t=1482

A snowHead

Circa 1981, aged 12 or 13 (now aged 47). School trip, a week at new year to Hintertux. Which was preceded with 4 Thursday afternoons at Hillingdon dry slope via the school minibus - Hillingdon slope no longer exists but I still look at the hill with happy memories each time I drive down the A40.

Don't remember much of the skiing, other than one afternoon when we were by ourselves in a whiteout and I went flying off the side of the piste, ending up in a complete tangle and barely able to move. I waited a long time for help before realising that none was coming and I was going to have to get myself out, or lie there and die. After much wriggling, I eventually managed to get one ski off and drag myself back to the piste - I still recall that vividly, I really thought I might die there (but i guess it didn’t put me off).

A few years later (lower sixth) there were 5 of us for 3 nights in YHA at Aviemore surviving on Pot Noodles and Hoffmeister - memories of skiing on that trip - “it was a bit breezy”. I would love to know the total cost for that trip, I recall that the train was £12 return from London suburbs to Aviemore, all in it must have been about £40 / £50 for the 3 days. When I bought my son a pair of top end gloves for Christmas last year, I had great glee in telling him that I’ve had entire skiing holidays for less - [Yorkshire accent] , “eeee, kids today, don't know tha born.”

This was followed by another bargain basement trip to Arinsal in Andorra for 4 of us in upper sixth - via what seemed like a 24 hour coach journey. Weather was very warm and snow poor. I do recall some skiing on this, so we must have started to make progress, including at the end of the week a teetering drop into an impossibly steep gulley - I bet it would look like nothing now. High point of this trip was going to bars with our very cool Aussie instructor, who must have been all of about 23, meeting some English girls - and popping of a cherry later back at the hotel. Ahhhh, skiing - you do do good memories.

After a break of a few years (student cashflow) there were University trips to La Plagne and Val D’Isere - with more reckless near death experiences - on and off the snow. Then a season in Courchevel (take all your stereotypes and cliches and double them). In a very convoluted way, I can trace my entire career back to a chance meeting made at a bar in Courchevel one night that winter (so, skiing gives as well as takes). A wife and a salary meant better chalets in my late 20s. Kids caused another gap for a few years, before eventually getting them out on the planks too.
With every year that goes by my trips keep getting better and better, we’re now starting to head off into the back-country on skins, with our closest ski buddies and have had chest deep powder turns.

Last year my 15 year old son went past me in ability (and certainly fitness), so in a way we have come full circle from Hintertux ‘81.

Skiing - you are the perfect mistress - I love you.

A snowHead

@ajdetpwm, Excellent.

Well, the person's real but it's just a made up name, see?

1989 school trip to Chatel. Remember badgering Mum and Dad for months when it was announced to let me go and they finally agreed.

School organised a few trips to the local dry slope near Weston Super Mare and vividly remember a mate ploughing into the scramble netting at the bottom after thinking he'd mastered it after 2 runs.

Skiing was great and just remember endless snowy days and the fascination of being able to ski into Switzerland

Remember managing to buy a case of beer from the local supermarket and throwing the empties off the balcony, only reason we got caught was a rise in temperatures that caused the snowbank we were hiding our empties in to melt.

You need to Login to know who's really who.

Oberau (Neiderau's very tiny neighbour) around 2001. I too was a late starter at 34 - and an overweight, extremely unfit 34 as well. Hubby had been badgering me for years to go and I finally gave in. Figuring if we hated it at least we'd tried. We were totally clueless. No idea how to do boots up, how they went in the skis (was there a left and right ski?).
So, first day of ski school. We were a mixed group but everyone but us could speak German. Cue 5 minutes of explanation in German and seriously all we got were variations on bend ze knees.
After a morning of side stepping up one of Oberau's 2 slopes (I can only imagine the luxury of a magic carpet) at lunchtime I had to go back to the hotel to lie down and change my clothes, I had sweated so much in my hired dungaree style salopettes.
The afternoon saw us learn to use the button lift and to practice turning. I was truly awful.
At one point the next day I accelerated away from the group with the instructor (Akim) yelling 'grossen fluge' at me. A small, but very solid stone hut was in the middle of the piste and I was heading straight for it. I continued gaining speed (my snowplough is still s@#* to this day), Akim realised a collision was imminent (I still hadn't mastered turning) and began hurtling after me. I then decided to employ the ever faithful fall over method of stopping. I stopped about a foot from the wall of hut just as Akim reached me.
The next day I loudly divorced my husband in the middle of Oberau's other piste! I was cold, tired and quite frankly rubbish and this was all his fault - especially as he had picked it up quite well.
We made it to Thursday somehow - last day of lessons - and Race Day (not sure if other resorts do this for adults) but my silver medal for 2nd place (out of 2 females in my class) is still one of my most prized things (I'm sad like that). I actually completed the slalom course and turned, roughly, where I wanted to.
Despite all my moaning as soon as the next year's brochures came we booked another one to France (where I had to learn to use chairlifts and at one point skied through a 'ralentir' sign - I didn't evidently - and carried on with it across my chest) and have been every year since, often twice. Other piste users will be relieved to know that I can now turn, stop and also generally avoid close encounters with 'slow' signs.

Anyway, snowHeads is much more fun if you do.

march 1998, late starter at 32 as I always though my rugby and motorbike injuries from university days would always prevent

Went with mate and his gf, and mrs sev112the latter of whom had been however many times before, the 3 of us I to lessons each day.

We went to Mottaret / Meribel, and pretty much walked from Lyons Airport to Albertville. There had been snowmaggedon in the valleys and the whole of the Savoie was a car park. However the weather on the motorway was wonderful. So loads of the people on the coach just got off, walked a mile or so along the motorway verge, sat down on the barrier and waited for the coach to crawl along and catch us up. We got back the coach to listen to France play England at rugby in French Smile

. Eventually the coach driver came off at McDonalds at. Albertville then had to try and get back on again. The police etc closed the valley after Moutiers I think and we were one of the last coaches through.

Wake up next morning to blue skies, and had the most perfect weather and snow for the next 7 days. Developed a fantastic technique of turning involving traversing to the side of the piste, jumping and swinging my skis to the opposite direction; repeated ad infinitum. Extremely ungainly but it meant my mate and I could ski any of the blues in the valley with the exception of the narrow road back from Courcheval into Mottaret - scarred me for years did that little boulevard. We skied lessons in the morning and til darkness in the afternoon. Totally hooked.

Fell in love with one Blue run from the top of the ridge between Meribel and Val Thorens valleys, I think it is Grand Duc (?). - beautiful views, and away from it all. We'd ski it over and over.

Won't mention mrs sev112's memories of fondue - oh sorry I did Smile

You'll need to Register first of course.

Mine was 1994 on a school trip to Les Orres. Not only did I fall in love with skiing but I had a huge teenage crush on my skiing instructor Embarassed

I begged my parents to let me go with the school again in 1995 (which I did) same resort and accommodation but different ski instructor Crying or Very sad

but thankfully I enjoyed the skiing even more when I was able to venture further, did some jumps etc. Very Happy

Following that I managed to talk the parents into family ski trips which were great. Had a few of breaks over the last 22 years, first when parents stopped paying and I couldn't afford it, got back into it and the husband and joined in, and then second time while we had a family. Thankfully both kids have now done 4 years on snow and I don't plan to have any more "years off".

I still remember my first two trips like they were yesterday!

Then you can post your own questions or snow reports...

Tignes 1981, brother and wife working the season hotel owner said close family could come for free provided ate in hotel. Other brother and I took bus from Leeds to London, train to Dover, ferry to Calais, train to Paris,train to Lyon,train to Moutiers (?), bus to Tignes.

No lessons, no ability and on 2nd day went to top of Grand Motte lost control and lost half my nose when sliding half way down on my face. Still keep looking for it whenever I go back.

Pluses - bluebird skies everyday, long hair blowing in the wind as no helmets then, oh and Phil Collins on a Sony Walkman

Hooked

After all it is free

1972, Engleberg. 3 1/2 or so. Unfortunately don't remember a thing about it. I do remember really liking skiing as a child, but it seemed to me like it had always been there, not something that started.

I skied on and off since up to about 1998 or so. Then boarded once or twice a year since 2005. I surf a lot, so it seems my life pleasure is sliding down water at an angle, sometimes it's frozen, sometimes not.

*Ski* the Net with snowHeads

My family weren't skiiers, but my older brother started skiing with the Y at the local hill. Some sort of scheme to get 'city kids' outside. My parents though I should give it a try too... dragged me to the top of the hill (why pay for a lift ticket or lessons?!) and let me go! It was the start of a beautiful thing Smile

Help!!

Your First Ever Ski Holiday?

snowHeads Forum Index >>> The Piste