If you follow me on instagram you already know I went on a skiing trip last week. If you are not following me (shame on you 🙊) but now you also know it. The only reason I went on this trip is because I had promised my boyfriend I’ll go skiing with him every 2 years. First off all I would like to say whooohoooow I’m back home, I did not break any legs and even more awesome: I don’t have to go back to the mountains for at least 2 years!
As you probably already figured out by reading my introduction, I am not a huge fan of skiing. When I was a kid my parents taught me how to ski and I was quite good at it. But then my parents divorced 20 something years ago and I haven’t been skiing ever since… A few weeks before our trip my boyfriend took me to the Ardennes in Belgium to go and practice my skiing skills a bit. People always say skiing is like riding a bike, once you know how to do it you will never forget.
Well that statement was quite right for me, in the Ardennes anyway. Over there we just speak of hills instead of mountains and when I was sliding down the hill I was quite confident I hadn’t lost my skills. So leaving for our trip to France I was quite at ease. But as soon as we arrived and I saw the mountain I started panicking immediately. This mountain was steep and craggy. No way in hell I was going down on this one!
My boyfriend went to check out the slopes first and when he came down he convinced me it was not that bad at all. He told me it looked worse than it was. So he convinced me to go up with him. After conquering my fear of heights I got myself into the ski lift and off I went.
When arriving on top of the mountain the view was lovely but I was still anxious about skiing down. I started going down and after 200 meters I just stopped at the first bar I came across and told my boyfriend no way in hell I was going down this hill. To fight my anxiety I decided I should drink a glass of liquid courage and ordered myself a rosé.
After my glass my boyfriend convinced me to go further down. BIG MISTAKE! Because after 10 mins I decided this really was not going to happen and unfortunately I was already too far away from the ski lift so the only way I was going to get of that mountain was down. Since I was not planning on skiing down I just put myself down on my ass, put my skis on my shoulder and started sliding down the mountain on my butt…
While writing this story I can’t help but laugh really loud about myself but at that time laughing was the last thing on my mind. After one hour of sliding down on my ass I finally arrived at the bottom of the mountain where my boyfriend was waiting for me with a huge smile on his face. I was sweating like a horse (sliding down on your ass apparently is quite intensive), my ass was feeling super numb from the snow & ice and I was really in an awful mood. And then all of a sudden my boyfriend announced that he had booked a private teacher for me the next day. He did this behind my back while waiting for me so I couldn’t refuse anymore. Although I had decided I was not going up that mountain ever again.
The next day I had my big date with Laurent the ski teacher and although I was very sceptic I have to admit Laurent showed great patience and teaching skills because against all odds he got me back up on that mountain. He even showed me a piece of the slopes that was not scary at all and had a lift close by so I could take the lift down to avoid the scary parts of the mountain. So I would like to give credits to Laurent for saving my ski holiday and teaching me how to ski slow.
I could tell you guys more stories, like how we had a flat tire or how we drove 2 hours extra because our GPS settings where wrong, but I think I’ll leave those for a next time. Right now I am going to start doing some reaching and book some tickets for a beach holiday, that is more my kind of vacation.