'You'll probably fall for your instructor': 10 things I learnt on my first ski holiday
Nobody said learning to ski would be easy. Myself included. Which is why, for years, I resisted the lure of powder-white slopes in favour of powder-white beaches. Why would I want to lie face-down in cold, wet snow when I could be lying on an exotic stretch of sand?
Then there were all the questions that popped up in my head every time I thought about it. What would I wear? Surely investing in special clothing like a waterproof jacket and salopettes would cost a lot? Then there was unimaginable stuff like helmet, goggles... even the skis. Where would I get hold of them?
More experienced friends threatened to teach me, and talked about “steeps” and loving powder snow, or even going over jumps, all of which sounded pretty scary. I just imagined sliding down a slope out of control. Skiing just wasn’t my thing.
But then a serious case of FOMO kicked when the same friends came back from skiing holidays saying they’d never felt so alive, and this was something I just had to do. And they convinced me that ski resorts for beginners do exist.
Which is how I ended up, in my mid-40s, discovering that Crystal Ski could arrange the whole thing – holiday, lessons, renting skis and a helmet. I borrowed ski clothes from my friends, and headed to the Austrian resort of Zell Am See, ready to embark on a three-day beginners’ skiing course. Here’s what I learnt:
1. Looking the part is an endurance test in itself
After slipping on thermals, fleece, salopettes and ski jacket, comes the first challenge: putting on the ski boots. Rock solid, intractable and weighing a ton, I couldn’t even get my feet through the neck of them. The trick, I discovered, was to push the tongue of the boot 120 degrees forward, then push my foot in, really hard. It worked. And I was exhausted. But not as exhausted as I was after carrying the skis out of the hire shop. And there was the pressing matter of what to do with my long hair. To avoid the dreaded dishevelled “helmet hair” look I opted for pigtails.
2. Gondolas aren’t exclusive to Venice
On being informed that I’d be taking the gondola to my first lesson, I pictured myself gliding gracefully along the town’s beautiful Lake Zell in an ornate rowing boat. What a gorgeous way to start the day.
This image was shattered when I was told that a gondola is the name for a ski lift on a cable, with cabins that each carry several skiers up the mountain. After jumping into the swish CityXpress gondola – a bit stressful because the cabins keep moving along while you get in – up and up we went on Zell am See’s Schmittenhohe Mountain, to nearly 1,328m, where I’d be having my first lesson on the nursery slopes.
3. The first steps are the hardest
Our group’s instructor, English/Austrian Lawrence, awaited. Our first mission was just to walk along on some flat snow wearing first the left ski, then the right, then both at the same time. Walking on two huge planks is a strange sensation, but there was no time to reflect, because baby steps were soon to turn into grown-up steps – or rather, sliding down a slope like real skiers. Lawrence taught us how to stop in what I found out is called the snowplough position – skis together at the front, wide at the back. Next came how to turn – if I wanted to go right I had to focus on my left leg to make the skis go in the right direction. Amazingly, it all came together, and in less than two hours we could all do small slalom runs.
4. Failure doesn’t have to hurt
Falling over was something I excelled at. Lawrence told me it’s best to fall on your side, and it came naturally. I feared that a fall would equal broken bones, but it doesn’t when you have the world’s biggest snowy comfort blanket to drop into. Getting up was another matter. One method (shouted at me from the other side of the valley so everyone on the mountain could hear) involved lying on my back, lifting my legs in the air (with those hundredweight skis attached), swivelling them around so they faced in the right direction across the slope, then pulling myself up with my poles. It required superhuman strength and I did manage it. Once.
5. Overthinking it doesn’t help
“Don’t overthink it” is what our second instructor, jolly Tom from the Czech Republic, said to me when my brain turned to slush. More left and right turns were involved. But by then I had forgotten what left or right meant and ended up going in the wrong direction or toppling over. “Why you do that?” said Tom, when he saw me in a heap. There were a number of replies I could have given. But as icicles were forming in my hair, I lay back and thought about the elderflower prosecco I'd be drinking later on.
6. There’s always hope
Another day, another sector of Schmittenhohe slopes (Sonnenalm, at 1,400m); and another instructor. This time it was Aussie Tom taking the reins, and he wanted to see what we'd learnt. Being in an enclosed nursery area (complete with magic-carpet ski lift - one of the easier ones to negotiate since it’s like a conveyor belt you just stand on) was helpful and the morning went well. After lunch we moved to a steeper, longer slope. My left turns were good. My right turns were a disaster. “The skis know when you’re nervous,” Tom said. He was right. He added: “Any skiing problem can be overcome.” No shortage of optimism on the pistes.
7. You’ll probably fall for your instructor
It’s a cliche, but true. What’s not to like about a strong man who can pick you up when you’re down (Aussie Tom); save you from going over the edge (Czech Tom); and ground you in the all-important basics (Austrian/English Lawrence). I was spoilt for choice, though Aussie Tom had the edge for teaching me to ski like Superman (a fist-pumping technique that makes turns easier) and giving me the confidence to glide down a 400m run in a white-out by myself.
8. Happiness is a hot tub
For beginners, exhaustion reaches another level. This is where the spa comes in: to melt away the aches and embarrassments of the day. And the one at our hotel, the four-star Tirolerhof, excelled – with a sauna, four steam rooms, a Roman sweat bath, a pool, a stone relaxation room and a hot tub. I tried them all; but a long spell in the Tropical Rain Shower meant I missed out on the Cold Thunder Shower. Another time.
9. Après ski doesn’t have to mean alcohol
But a drink certainly helps after a day on the slopes. And there are tons of drinking dens to choose from. The Zell By Night tour organised by Crystal Ski involved five bars in four hours, with a free shot in each. Our favourite was The Gin House - set in a basement, with ancient skis hanging down and a formidable selection of spirits. Crazy Daisy's came a close second. It was here that I settled on my chosen skiing tipple: hot chocolate laced with Cointreau. Then there’s beer ping-pong and the Austrian nail game (Hammerschlagern), which involves thumping a nail into a tree stump with the narrow end of a hammer head.
10. Skiing is addictive
Would I do it again? Yes, both for the atmosphere of a ski resort, and the skiing itself. I surpassed my own limited expectations, and learning so much in a short space of time was satisfying and exhilarating. Afterwards, I also felt fitter and stronger than before. We were told that once you’ve learnt the basics, you’re no longer a beginner. As Aussie Tom said on our final run: “You’re skiers now. Show me how it’s done.”
Essentials
Crystal Ski Holidays offers a week’s half-board at the four-star Hotel Tirolerhof in Zell am See from £920 per person based on two adults sharing, including flights and transfers. Direct flights available from all major UK airports. Crystal Ski also arranges six-day area lift pass from £254; six-day ski equipment hire from £114; ski lessons at Zell Am See Ski and Snowboard School from £178 per person.
