Skiing. It's a lot harder than it bludy looks, I can tell you that much. First surprise of the day and something that evoked loud laughter from everybody present in the ski rental shop was when I asked Mary - where are the brakes?

Turns out the damn things got no brakes! You have to stop them yourself, using your knees, or legs or whatever the hell you want to. I knew there and then that I was in trouble. Soon I was fitted into boots that left my feet feeling like they'd been placed in concrete blocks. This was definitely not going to be the fun I imagined. Next we were expected to get into a moving cable-car gondola with those damn boots and skis and everything without falling. That done, the most important task was upon me -- getting into the skis, and hopefully skiing. Mary gave me a crash course that would put every other crash course to shame. Sounded easy enough. My plan was to move slowly and then pick up speed once I was more confident. But unfortunately it doesn't quite work like that. When you're a rookie, the slope decides how fast you go, not you. I started moving and before I knew it I was going too fast for comfort (I reckon 25-30 kmph). Suddenly the slope in front looked mighty dangerous. I had to slow down or I'd hurt myself if not anybody else. I tried to get the skis closer together like Mary had told me but nothing doing, I just couldnt slow down; I was a dead man. Then I remembered another thing she had told me - if you can't stop, fall, but don't fall forwards or on your back, you will hurt yourself. Fall sideways. So that is what I did, and goddamn did it hurt. The snow may look all nice and pretty and all, but I tell you it can be quite a bitch when you go down. And then I couldn't get up again. So I had to call for help. And it's not a nice feeling when you're lying there in the snow like a paralysed puppy and a bunch of eight-year-olds go zipping past you in glee. Anyway, Mary helped me up and suggested we try something else - parallel skiing, where we hold hands and ski together like they do in figure skating. Gotta admit that didn't go down very well with my male ego, but what the hell, it was better that getting grievously injured. And it was fun. It kinda felt like those scooters they had in the old days, the ones with the sidecars. She was the scooter, I was the sidecar.



After a couple of rounds of that I'd had enough. There's only so much skiing you can do holding a girls hand. So we decided to try the sledge (exact same kind you see here) ... closer to the ground, and definitely a lot safer. Bullshit! Dangerous as bludy hell. Even more dangerous than skiing at times. So there I was on the sledge hurtling down the slope at God knows how many miles an hour, which was fun ... till you came to a bend. The instructions were simple enough -- to turn right put your right foot down, to go left, the left foot. If only it were that simple. Coz you gotta know just how much and how long to put your bludy foot down. A slight miscalculation and you've swayed too much to the side and before you know it you're lying face down in two feet of snow with your sledge over you or under you or half a mile away from you. Another huge problem was that the slope was not a perfect slope in many places - there were huge ups and downs; which if you're a girl is ok, but if you're a guy could cause some serious damage to your - you know what! So can you imagine me holding the rein with one hand, one hand on my nuts, trying to steer with my feet and having no control over how fast the damn thing was going ... I guess you can.

But Mary said I was very brave ... for someone who'd never been on the snow before. I was actually. Because now when I think about it I could have broken my neck at least a dozen times. I didn't count the number of times I fell, but I know for a fact I was in the snow a lot longer than I was on the skis/sledge.

***

The festive season is really starting to kick in here. At the main station the 50 foot high Swarovski Crystal Christmas tree is a sight to behold.



And that pretty much brings to an end my time here in this beautiful land of mountains, lakes and very stylish women. I wish I had myself a handycam to capture the sights and sounds of Switzerland. No substitute for the real thing of course, but it would have been nice to show the folks back home. This Sunday I return to the sights, the sounds - and the smells - of my beloved homeland.

Van Morrison ... Brown eyed girl. For michelle, who if I remember correctly celebrates her birthday today.