The secret to stress-free family skiing

Hitting the piste together is the ultimate multi-generational holiday. Ski champion Chemmy Alcott shares tips for a smooth ride

If you’re looking for the answer to the conundrum of what is the best holiday for the whole family, it has to be skiing. In the mountains, I – a former Winter Olympian – can savour the same piste as my two-year-old son, with his grandparents following in his tracks. The coming together of families after a day on the slopes to share their experiences is, for me, the most magical way for all generations to make memories together.

This type of holiday synergy has to be earned, however: it’s no secret that family ski trips can come with an avalanche of hassle. Put frankly, ski holidays with kids will break you.

It begins with the kit. Once you get past the fact that every little person looks adorable in long-john thermals, you venture into hell. Cue screams of: “This helmet is squashing my ears” and “I can’t see in these goggles” (a pair that you used in the 1980s) and “My hands are so cold!”

And that’s before you have picked up a pair of ski boots: there is nothing quite like the on-your-knees stress and grunts that go into wedging your little angel’s tiny feet into plastic shells in the sweltering heat of a boot room.

But once they are ready, their faces, and yours, are lit with excitement – especially when they learn they are spending the day skiing with mummy and daddy. The look from my threeyear-old

son Cooper when he realises he has been granted a day away from the beginner’s area to explore the magical enormity of “yes, really, the whole mountain” in our company often makes everything worthwhile.

Both my husband [fellow alpine ski racer Dougie Crawford] and I skied with our families when we were young and now life has come full circle. Rather than preparing to race the world’s most daring competitive runs, we now spend chairlift rides high-fiving each other or enjoying the quietness as our boys stare down in wonder at the skiers below.

Of course, there are also snacks: distraction is key and rewards even more so when the weather turns or – as our eldest, Locki, 5, often proves – when tumbles happen. A sweet treat when he loses both skis and ends up lying in the snow spreadeagled isn’t bribery in my book: I am just giving him and his brother more reason to explore and realise life doesn’t always end in success. Skiing is a perfect sport for this type of personal growth. Everyone falls; it is the picking oneself up and trying again that is the real win.

I was genetically made to be a skier. My father was a rugby player and my mother a swimmer – I inherited his strong glutes and her big lungs. Childhood memories of holidaying in the mountains, inspired to ski faster to keep up with my older brothers, are some of my favourites. We skied with the same families every Christmas – a yellow apron with purple dots was worn by the person who achieved the best crash of the day or the bravest line. After a long day skiing we would either go to the public pool or go sledging as a group. It was all go, all activity, all-consuming elation for every member of the family.

The thing with skiing is, it doesn’t care how old you are. My toddler loves it as much as his 67-year-old grandad – ski holidays are the door to the mountains, where everyone is welcome to enjoy nature’s playground.

i Time warp: a young Chemmy and family, and right, with her husband and children