TO SKI OR NOT TO SKI, THAT IS THE QUESTION

Date Line:  The depths of winter, late one evening.

Location: A remote log cabin somewhere in the snow covered Alps.

The Occupants: A winter holidaymaker musing silently to himself, after arriving for a skiing holiday with his wife.

‘What on earth am I doing here? Why on earth did I come here? Why on earth does anyone come here? I didn’t want to come, it wasn’t my idea to come to this wretched, little place in the middle of nowhere, where it’s far too cold.

‘I should never have let my wife persuade me to come to this winter ‘wasteland’, but she always gets her own way when it comes to where we go for our holidays.

‘And why can’t we stay in a decent hotel instead of this miserable little hut, which the holiday brochure describes as ‘a wonderful, quaint and charming log cabin’, but isn’t?

‘It’s an old, wooden shed, just like the one we have in the back garden at home. We should have stayed there for a fortnight, where it would have been much comfier and warmer and certainly a lot cheaper.

 ‘And the only light in this dark and dreary hovel is from smoky oil lamps or candles, which are likely to blow out at any minute in this draughty, ramshackle building, because there’s no electricity! 

‘And it’s so remote here I can’t get a mobile phone signal, so I won’t be able to phone for help when a snowdrift has blocked the door and we can’t get out.

‘I won’t even be able to log into my laptop without electric power, as it’s bound to be a waste of time trying to charge up my portable solar power bank to recharge the computer’s battery, as there’s absolutely no chance of the sun making even the briefest of appearances in this flippin’ freezing, arctic landscape.

‘On top of all that this outbuilding is the furthest away from the village and the snow is always over six feet deep around here, which makes it extremely difficult to trudge all the way down to the village to get a beer and, if I made it without falling into a snow drift, they’d probably only serve that disgusting Glühwein, anyway.

‘Not only will I be unable to get a decent drink around here, the food’s bound to be dreadful as well and there’ll be absolutely no chance of getting a decent breakfast like the Full English fry up I have at home every day.

‘And look at the ridiculous clothes I’ll have to wear, they are hardly the height of fashion and I wouldn’t normally be seen dead in them, but then that’s just how I might end up if I run into a boulder buried beneath the snow when I’m skiing down the mountain. 

‘It’s far too dangerous here, anything could happen to us, although there’s bound to be nothing ‘happening’ in this dreary little village miles from anywhere, which would take forever to walk to anyway.

‘I could fall off that t-bar lift contraption when it’s half way up the mountain. Those things have never looked safe to me, what with your feet dangling in mid-air and having to hold on for grim death. You even have to get on and off it while it’s still moving.

‘Or I might be going too fast on the way back down and be unable to stop and crash into a tree or something and break my leg… or worse. 

‘I might even be swept away by an avalanche and be buried alive under a hundred feet of snow, without even a St Bernard to come to my rescue and, even if one did happen to come along, its barrel of brandy would be empty.

‘And if I survive all these potentially lethal hazards, I’ll probably be run over by a speeding snowmobile or get trampled on by a herd of reindeer pulling a sleigh and end up in hospital, anyway.

‘Bears! There might be hungry bears roaming around or even ravenous packs of wolves, looking for an easy meal and deciding that I’m on their breakfast menu.

‘It’s just far too dangerous for any sane person to even contemplate coming on this type of holiday.

‘I’m definitely going to go on a water-skiing holiday next year.’

*

Date Line: Early the next morning.

Location: The same log cabin in the snow covered Alps.

The Occupants: The winter holidaymaker and his wife.

“WHAT a lovely day it is, darling. I’m so glad we’ve come here for our holiday. It’s a perfect day for skiing. The sun is out, the sky is blue, the snow is deep and, dare I say it, crisp and even.

“Now, come along, sleepy head, I’ve already made you a lovely breakfast to set you up for the day. 

“There’s carrot juice, yoghurt, muesli, some delicious cold meats, cheese, fresh fruit, croissants and coffee and it will do you good not to have a fried breakfast for a change.

“Doesn’t the village look just like a picture postcard with the sun sparkling on the icicles hanging down from the eaves of the chalets and wasn’t it so romantic to find that the cabin was lit by candlelight, when we arrived last night?

“It’s so peaceful and we can slow down and really relax, as there’s no mobile phone or internet coverage here, so we won’t have worry about what’s going on in the outside world or be interrupted by calls from work or anywhere else.

“I just can’t wait to get out on the slopes and, if we’re quick, we can get there before anyone else does and then we can have the slopes all to ourselves, whilst the snow is in pristine condition.

 “The skiing equipment rental shop has already delivered our skis and ski poles and all of the other gear we need and I’ve also got the passes for the t-bar ski lift, which will whisk us up to the top of the mountain in no time at all and the views all around and below us will be so fantastic.

“And I’ve packed us a wonderful picnic lunch, so we can spend more time on the slopes and, when we get back down to the village, we can go for a delicious glass of Glühwein.

“Oh, I can see us now, darling; it will be so exhilarating. Racing down the ‘black diamond’ in the fresh, sweet air, the sun glistening on the clean, soft, powdery snow, the snow flying up behind us when we ‘carve a turn’ and then stop to admire the view, before flying down to the end of the run.

“We can have a competition to see who’s the fastest and, if you win I’ll give you a great, big, sloppy kiss right there on the piste, but if I beat you, I’ll be expecting a great, big, sloppy kiss from you. 

“We might even bump into each other on the way back down the mountain and end up frolicking in the snow together, wouldn’t that be fun? Who knows, I might even bump into you on purpose just so that we can.

“Then, when the stars come out in the evening and the village is all lit up with flaming torches, we can go on a magical ride on an open-sleigh pulled by a team of reindeers. Oh, it will be so romantic, snuggling under a genuine bear skin rug to keep us warm. We might even hear a lone wolf howling at the moon. 

“I’m so glad we decided to come skiing for our holiday, aren’t you, darling?”

“Yes, of course, darling,” replied the winter holiday maker.