Skiing

Although we live in a ski resort, I have to say that neither of us ski.  Unfortunately we took to it too late in life - about 52 - and the prospect of injury was a little too real.  Nonetheless we did try a few times.  S.W.M.B.O. was not very polite with her instructor and he had to be changed, but that's another story.

This isn't me but it might well have been

I never got the turns right and I was somewhat annoyed that practice didn't seem to make me any better.

I did have one wonderful experience before I gave it all up however.  It had snowed about six inches during the night but the storm had gone off rapidly to the east.  We were left with beautiful fresh snow and bright blue skies.

I was first on the lift as they started up at 8:30 and launched myself down a green slope called Clementine.  My skis were the first to mark the virgin snow.  After the first few curves which I negotiated in my normal "pizza slice" manner there was a long straight run before we reached the bottom.  I shall never forget it.  My only regret was that I just couldn't make it a grade up to the blue slopes.

I did give it a try, but after failing badly I was forced to remove the planks and walk down the slope in full view of the Ski Haus at the bottom where several yuppies were enjoying their morning fortified lattes.  It was not a happy moment.  However I do have that one memory of the skiing experience to carry with me.