Lucky us, we managed to get away for a couple of days – weekdays! – to the snow. We stayed at a lovely freestanding ‘eco lodge’ just outside of Thredbo’, which was cosy with solar-powered under floor heating and a fuel-lit fireplace, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking snow gums and yellow, parched-looking spinifex. It cost as much as a week in any normal place, being high season for skiing and including all those costs, as well as bonus ones like a new pair of warm gloves for the girls ($120 each pair). Just as well we’re not going anywhere else.
On notice about behaviour standards and the consequences for my participation next year if there were too many lapses, it started a little shakily on Sunday afternoon and the process of getting dressed on Monday morning. But Steve sorted it out with his usual patience, and we hit the slopes, bypassing the beginner’s run completely this time. I had wondered how ski resorts could possibly make physical distancing work given the dense crowds there are usually, especially around the restaurants and on the chairlifts, but they enforced only two people per chairlift and queues and seating for lunch within the required regulations.
We shared our outdoor table at lunch with a couple from near Canberra who were happy not be sharing with anyone from Sydney, which currently has some COVID hotspots, learning from the woman that she had done minimal skiing in her twenties, took her family on skiing holidays and made the mistake of booking the children in to lessons but her and her husband doing without, so the children became proficient skiers and overtook their parents’ ability. I was impressed by her enjoying skiing despite being, by her own description, rather average in ability, and she was improving herself by studying lots of videos. They had also travelled through Japan on regular holidays which combined skiing and travelling, which I also thought was adventurous.
I can’t argue any longer with the fact that the girls have overtaken me in their ability. They fell over a lot on the first day, whereas I only fell over once on the second day, but they were more comfortable, brave and fast than me, so were saying many of the same things they said to me last year (come on mum! Are you alright?) and some new ones (poor you! Did you get lost?).
We awoke to rain on the second morning, and Steve thought it was hardly worth driving to the ski field as it wouldn’t be pleasant skiing in the pouring rain. But the rain ceased after we got up, and although it was foggy and very cold, and snowed during the day, we had a good, full day, broken up by a sustaining hot lunch and ending with a lollypop for each girl and a drive home in the dusk.
Despite having skied a little most years over the past ten years or so, a part of me still feels that it’s a pastime that I could take or leave. It’s so expensive! Is the fun worth it for all that money? I can’t deny that it’s peaceful sitting on a chairlift being transported up a mountain, and a gondola chairlift is a nice way to travel when it’s particularly cold or raining outside. It’s relaxing to break the day up with some tasty soup sheltered from the elements, yet being in the elements all day while well protected from them is an experience that connects you with nature in a grounding way.
It seems a bit juvenile to be throwing yourself down a mountain, and I still think it’s a strange thing to do, but there’s no denying either that it’s fun, and adults are allowed to have fun too. So at this stage, if it’s allowed, I’ll be back next year. And I hope the girls get at least another two years’ worth out of those gloves.
