It’s that time of the year again, when I sit down with my planner and laptop, searching for the perfect winter getaway with the hope to blast away those February blues – and this year, I’m dreaming of snowy vistas and alpine forests.
Yearning for those mesmerising blanket-of-snow views and the gloriously cosy après-ski atmosphere, the obvious choice of holiday would be a ski break in the French Alps. Only, I’m not a natural skier. The two times I agreed to go skiing with friends, I had to be coaxed down the red runs by a mate, who patiently held my hand the whole way. I just couldn’t shake my worry around falling. So I decided that skiing wasn’t for me.
