Many apologies for my blogging absence over the past week or so. I’ve been rather busy.
I landed back in Heathrow last night after a week of skiing in Switzerland. You’ve probably spat tea all over your laptop in shock and surprise but it’s true that I, Alex Edden, went skiing in the Swiss Alps. Me, the girl that skived PE at school and can’t walk up a flight of stairs without needing a lie down. The person you’d least want on your sports team, the person who is scared of almost everything. And I didn’t hate it! In the end…
When we landed in Geneva I was already scared stupid about the skiing. It’s all I could think about. As you know, I am never one to take any form of physical risk. I like sitting down and reading with a warm drink. I’ve never skied before and I never thought I ever would. Ever! What I will say though, is that any nerves and panic I felt were considerably diluted by the views.
This is the Matterhorn. You might recognise it from Toblerone wrappers. It is glorious. Seeing this everyday made the horrors of skiing almost bearable.
We stayed in a little town called Zermatt. Everywhere you looked there were the most unbelievable views. And picturesque is the way it is hoped to stay; vehicles are prohibited in Zermatt. The only forms of transport are horses or these little electric cars. The rest of the world could probably learn a thing or two from Zermatt.
Now, obviously as everyone probably suspected, I was not a natural born skier. The first time I clicked my boots into the skis I felt like crying. But as they say, practice makes perfect. Although in my case I would say practice makes worse-than-average-but-certainly-less-scared. I had a few lessons and started to get the hang of it. By my third day I was able to go down a blue run by myself without feeling like I wanted to burst into tears. In fact, I actually felt enjoyment. I have my instructor to thank for that. I also have my instructor to thank for catching me numerous times as I flew chaotically down the mountain, and for reattaching my ski to my boot half way down quite a steep slope as I slipped and flailed and generally overreacted to just about everything.
I loved having my ski lesson and afterwards grabbing a hot chocolate and chilling (literally) in the sun, thanking all the gods for letting me survive another day on the mountain. I am actually astounded that I didn’t seriously injure myself.
And of course, if life ever got too difficult up in the Alps, there was alway a way of getting back down…
So, there you have it. I managed to ski down a real life mountain (and slide down on my bum a few times) and realise that actually, new experiences can really be worth the sweating and the broken muscles and the sheer dread. Because now I can’t wait to give it another go!
What have you been up to?