There’s nothing better than flying down a mountain at 60.9 km/ hour (hell yeah that’s my top speed), next to your younger sister that’s just not quite as fast as you, with a breath-taking view of never-ending snowy mountains ahead. When I say flying, I mean snowboarding, obviously. You will never find me holding a pair of ski poles that continue to stab you in the back (literally) every time you fall over, wearing ski boots determined to crush your toes, one by one. Skiing is not my cup of tea.
My cup of tea looks more like this: after an exhausting day of bombing down pistes, I trudge home, and home is a luxury chalet for the week, I then pull off my boots (yeah I realise the snowboarding attire isn’t the most comfortable either), helmet, soggy sallopettes and goggles, grab some cake and prosecco, and I jump in the hot tub. Once my retired muscles have soaked for long enough, and I’ve posted an insta story of the #purescenez (let’s be honest I’m not gonna have a bikini bod in April to post as an alternative am I), I’ll jump in the shower. Once I’ve yanked the last remaining literal snowball out my arse (thanks to my little cousin), I’ll waddle down the stairs in my dressing gown, slightly soggy yet again, to the smell of fresh crepes being made. GET IN MY BELLY.
As you can tell, that last paragraph was absolutely not allowed into the uni newspaper, and certainly not the title – yikes, they would kick me out the society and that would be a waste of my £10 membership. The final product did actually become my first ever article to be published in the print newspaper though (waheyy, give me a fucking medal). Rather than dreaming about being in a hot tub with a slice of carrot cake and a mojito (ok I’ll stop now I promise), I was supposed to be commenting on whether it’s better to go skiing with a mixture of skiers and snowboarders, a mixture of beginner and advanced level people, or just one or the other.
As a beginner, it’s quite demoralising to watch your fellow skiers, all far more experienced than you, sail down a piste like it’s second nature, and do a big jump as they pass you falling over for the 27th time. On the other hand, it’s not always pleasant to have to wait five minutes in the cold, nipples becoming more and more erect by the minute, at the bottom of each piste for the slower skiers who are still learning.
Perhaps, as a first-time skier, it’s easier to keep up with the professionals, because you can just bomb it down the small hills (this is not recommended, I speak from experience). On a snowboard though, there’s no easy way around it; you have to suck it up like the independent, boss bitch that you are and learn. Bombing down a piste at beginner level on a snowboard will guarantee you an ugly ass bruise across both bum cheeks, in the space of about three seconds.
That being said, I did come to the conclusion that the diversity of having both skiers and snowboarders, varying from levels ‘Shite’ to ‘Show Off’ in a group is more advantageous than disadvantageous (despite the ever-lasting rivalry between the two). When there’s a slight upwards hill preceding the chair lift, snowboarders are stuck and have to awkwardly one-foot it up the hill, usually resulting in a nice leg cramp. If you’re with a skier, though, providing they use poles, you can just get them to pull you up, holding onto their ski poles.
Similarly, after a dramatic fall from a skier, for example my darling mother – I love u mum – their poles and skis are likely going to have fallen off half way up the piste, leaving my poor mum below to have to trek back up the hill to retrieve them.
Us cool kids, the snowboarders, have no poles or anything to hold, so we can easily pick up some skis and ski poles on our journey down, and drop them off to the slightly bruised skier below.
If there are advantages to the diversity of having skiers and snowboarders together, there’s got to be benefits of having a range of levels within a group. In the uni article, I said;
Having a less experienced skier or snowboarder with you provides you with the rewarding opportunity to assist and teach them, which can then in turn help you to reflect and improve on your own technique.
What utter shite. What I really meant to say was having a wanker like Imogen Tait (my lil sis) who’s just not as good as you (sorry hun), means you can whip Instagram out, get some quality content, and rightfully earn £250 from You’ve Been Framed. My biggest regret in life is not having my camera out when my other piece of shit (Alex Tait) went confidently into a jump on skis, only to then realise that her landing spot was not snow, but in fact a huge puddle of mud. Did I mention her ski jacket was white?
Whatever level you are, Alex Tait level or Gina Tait level, go and splash the cash on a skiing holiday. You’ll get all the money back anyway (once you hit 400k views on YouTube of your sister backwards bum-sliding down a piste for a good 60 seconds).