Cool Xscape from the sun

8:53am Saturday 10th May 2008

Comments (2)   Have your say »

I've added another string to my bow, boosted my repertoire of skills and expanded my horizons - I had my very first ski lesson this week.

Granted, it's not exactly ascending Everest but believe me that nursery slope looked pretty steep for someone who's only experience of such things is sledging down a six foot mound (to call it a hill is a bit too generous) covered in a thin layer of grey slush that was pathetically trying to pass as snow.

It was an odd sensation heading to Xscape in the blazing May sunshine with a bag of warm woolly clothes at my feet. With almost three full days of sunshine I'd all but consigned my winter clothes to the back of the wardrobe in the belief that summer has officially arrived.

I should really explain that going skiing was the idea of my work colleague, his abounding enthusiasm for the sport having finally enticed the rest of us to give it a shot. Although we tried to blend in and look less like the total novices we were, the fits of giggles as we attempted to put on each item of required safety clothing destroyed any illusion that we were lucky enough to create.

Especially since there were a number of hardcore snowboarders with their long hair and fluorescent clothes swaggering past with their boards slung casually over their shoulders, throwing us newbies sidelong looks of knowing pity.

Walking in ski boots is akin to walking in ice skates so that part wasn't too difficult to master, although we learned a valuable lesson to go the loo before getting kitted up. We had everything we needed: gloves, helmets, skis, emergency Mars Bar. The only thing that we didn't get were poles, which I'll admit I was disappointed by - I figured they'd help with balance but as we found out the use of poles is far too advanced for Level 1 ski instruction.

And we weren't alone for our lesson, no, we were joined by a bunch of lads from Sheffield, who were also there on a work do. It's fair to say that we were a tad dubious at the thought of sharing our humiliation with these four blokes but, as it turns out, they were as completely new to this skiing malarkey as we were and up for a bit of a giggle. So they applauded our little victory dances after we'd made it all the way down half the slope and we cheered when one of their group was the first to fall over - all in all it was a good atmosphere.

However the instructor seemed slightly less impressed by our joviality, which I can partly understand as his first concern had to be the safety of us and everyone on the slopes.

He took no prisoners as he showed us how to side step up the slope and lean forwards with our knees bent and hands in front of us (we looked like we were in goal in an Arctic football game).

There was a very short section in the middle where we stood up before returning to the goalie position in order to stop, which, I'm pleased to report, all of us managed without charging headlong into the red barrier marking the big slope from the wee one. Although there was a lot of veering off in the direction of the door - perhaps a subconscious reaction to the unnatural state of being on skis?

And then it was all over; the whole hour had disappeared faster than an ice-lolly in the sunshine, but now we had the basics - we could start and stop and had mastered the art of grabbing the pulley rope to the top. We all passed our Level 1, possibly not with flying colours but we passed nonetheless and, if we make it all the way to Level 4 (after which you get poles as well as going on the big slope), we get a free recreational hour - presumably to put into practice all that we've learnt.

There were no broken bones, no bruises, no wet bums from repeated falls, just rosy cheeks, a sense of achievement (however small that achievement may be in the grand scheme of things) and a half frozen, but uneaten, Mars Bar as a reward.