Me, Matilda and an empty mountain...

Former England rugby player Will Greenwood sees his autistic daughter find her skiing feet on a family holiday in the Alps

We might approach most family occasions with the added challenge of having a child with special needs – our daughter, Matilda, has autism – but our ski holiday starts much like anyone else’s: panic buys, four aborted online check-ins, my wife, Caro, sneaking four litres of Rebel Kitchen Mylk into the luggage (certain items are non-negotiable…). Travelling with my family and my eldest son Archie’s friends, Locky and Mark, I decide I am more likely to hamper the process than assist, so I escape to Maidenhead Rugby Club for a gutsy win against Camborne in the driving rain. Back at home, the three teenage enage lads have organised rooms in n the chalet in advance and have commandeered the e ground floor. Rocco, nine, follows the teenage trio around ound like a disciple. We genuinely uinely couldn’t be more excited xcited about a family holiday. day. It’s lights out at 11.30pm m for a 4am alarm call, but ut the lads are still chatting at midnight! ht!

Having travelled d with touring parties es of 50 in my rugby days, I am strict on timings and passport etiquette. It’s the only way I know, and a little too David Brent for Caro – but subsequently we arrive without incident. At The Peak Chalet in Sainte-Foy, the team are ready for us, with ski passes and a large bowl of spaghetti carbonara with a twist from Kiwi Luke, our chalet chef. He might not have a Michelin star, but he should have – this meal is a taster of the great things to come, from his hearty breakfasts to melt-in-your-mouth afternoon cakes and incredible evening feasts.

But for now… here comes the trauma. Getting your children ready for skiing ranks alongside going to the North Pole, climbing Kilimanjaro or winning a World Cup. But the pain is worth it. We manage to grab two hours on the nursery slopes and then attempt a blue run – cue falls galore, and smiles everywhere. No names mentioned, but we picked one of Archie’s mates out of the slope netting five times in the first afternoon. Our family were as happy as we have been in a year.

At 5pm it’s cake time, and our instructors come to say hello. Colin (I have never before met a Frenchman called Colin) is going to be looking after Matilda. Her autism is discussed and met with immediate recognition and understanding – and no small amount of relief fo for me and Caro.

Then we settle i into our first holiday evening. Is it too obvious that the dads went to the pub for an hour while the young lads smashed the Xbox? After drin drinks and canapés at 7pm, we were ex exhausted by 9.30pm, kids included. A At this point, I allow myself to thin think that The Peak in Sainte-Fo Sainte-Foy might be the best holiday we have ever had – afte after just six hours…

Bu But there is more to com come. On our first full day I rip the curtains bac back – and it’s snowing,

Many turn up their noses at this little resort, but the slopes are all yours and there are no lift queues

snowing, snowing… adding to the already plentiful stock. Fresh powder – the skier’s dream.

All 14 of our tour party are out and about. Colin teaches Matilda on a one-to-one basis. Convincing her to slow down is the biggest challenge – Matilda loves thrills. Rocco and some of the lads have an instructor from Ecole du Ski Francais for three hours, as they do each morning. The afternoons are to be all about family time and skiing together.

We meet for the perfect ski lunch at Colonnes, a mountainside restaurant. Buckets of pasta and lasagne for the children and tartiflette by the cartload for the seniors set us up for what turns out to be a tough afternoon with a white-out and visibility down to just a few feet. The snow is perfect, but it’s tough to ski when you can’t see the bumps and lumps ahead – a steep learning curve for all of us.

Another, more pleasurable, discovery is of the absolute joy of The Peak’s steam room, sauna and hot tub to welcome the aching joints, if you can squeeze in past the youngsters, that is! A hot tub with a cold beer is not to be scoffed at. We’re starting to carve out a routine, and from 5pm there is always a couple of hours to chill. On this first evening I want to read my book, but I go to the pub… and get back in time for a spectacular supper of beef eye fillet, sweet potato and mushroom ragu with a pancetta crisp. It’s lights out early for everyone, so we’re ready to go big again tomorrow.

If skiers like to see snow dumping down, then there is only one thing better; a Blue Bird. A day where the orange glow of the sun appears over the mountain tops with the sky a crystal blue signalling an utterly sensational weather day with glorious skiing conditions. We hit that jackpot. The first lift has hardly fired up and we are pushing each other out of the way to head up the mountain.

Sainte-Foy has only four lifts, so

HAVING A BLASTWill and family enjoying a meal in Sainte Foy, below, and getting to grips with the slopes, right