I’ll be honest, I’ve never been enthralled with the idea of skiing. I know that’s not very chic, and so it’s something I often keep to myself, much like my aversion to eating molluscs (you can be classy and cultured and not like oysters! You can!).
I skied once when I was 11 years old, and while my mum insists I was good, I have no memory of this — nor do I remember enjoying it — so I think it’s probably a lie. For all intents and purposes, I never planned to ski again. But an antipathy towards skiing puts you in a rather sad position if you, like I, also love mountains, or you, like I, have dreams of cold, snow-filled escapes. There’s an obvious rock and hard place joke here but I’m not going to make it.
