It’s all downhill from here
A multi-generational ski holiday in the Alps can be the perfect family escape
MY 22-year-old daughter is feeling a little low. Me, too, actually. I’ve just told her there aren’t enough pennies in the coffers to go skiing this season, just as there weren’t last season.
‘‘We’ll go next year,’’ I say. And we will. In fact, I am about to sign up for a 12-berth chalet in Courchevel that has an open fire, a hot tub on the roof and the promise of freshly baked cake every evening when we get down from the mountain. My children, step-children and all their respective girlfriends and boyfriends will be invited. My wife, who doesn’t ski, but likes the scenery, won’t have to boil a kettle or wash a pan for a week.
I am feeling quite emotional just thinking about it, but that’s because I get quite emotional about skiing. For a start, I’m chuffed my children still want to ski with me. I’ll be almost 60 by the time we get there in February. When I split up with their mother it was the one holiday that worked. We would wake up in the morning, have breakfast and ski all day. Then we would do the exact same thing the next day and so on for a week.
We probably had some tiffs, some awkward silences at lunch, but when we were skiing we were one unit. Primogeniture ruled. I was in front, my son behind me, younger sister behind him. From the age of seven and four, respectively, they would follow in my exact tracks.
We shared every turn, rode every bump, negotiated every patch of ice. And we went faster and faster each year. Whenever we reached our cruising speed I used to
Family fun on the slopes