It's been a while since my last post, and thought it might be good to express my experiences in Ischgl as a first-time skier...
"Can you wiggle your toes?", "Can you lift your heel?" are the last questions I heard while trying my ski boots on. I learned pretty quickly that the skis are much of a muchness, but the boots you wear play a vital role in your ability to ski! The fact that I've come back home with opened blisters on feet and shins could be a small indication of this :)
After fitting the boots and obtaining the rented skis and poles, we hit the slopes the next day for some learning.
Our instructor, Alex, was probably the best there was in Ischgl. We were blessed to have someone so patient and consistently calm. She was absolutely brilliant!
Now, after having played a little ice hockey and dabbled on ice skates, I figured this would come pretty quickly to me. I was destined to impress myself.
The lessons start off for first-timers with ski-familiarisation.
During this process, one is shown how to put a single ski on and perform some kind of skate board stunt while pushing the ski on one foot and walking with the free foot. That was easy.
Within 15 seconds I had fallen over my ski. What kind of skate board is this that sticks to your bloody foot? Quickly recovering my composure, I got up and pretended that this was all perfectly normal. Yes, normal to fall over one ski which nobody else had done in our group. Ok, so I'm a beginner, just getting used to the skis.
I figured once I had both skis on, I would get this and be skiing in no time!
Ok, so both skis on and ready to hit the slopes.
Erm, not so much...
During the next 3 minutes I fell again.
Not because I got a speed wobble. No, I was practically standing still and fell over my own skis. Nobody else was even near me. It was all me.
So, bent over, stiff and cautious not to make a complete clown of myself, I probably looked something like a gourmet presentation disaster. A banana propped up on two celery sticks. Move the plate just a little and the celery sticks change places with the banana.
Day one passed and I feared I might just not get this.
My feet were already hurting, my shins killing me, and my confidence levels not much greater than that of a duck shot from the sky waiting to be found...
Day two begins. Skis on. We begin to progress. Snowploughing and turning. This was fun. The confidence started to come back as we progressed. The others in the group are mostly doing better than me, but I'll just blame the boots for now.
We begin the button lifts. A little plastic disc the size of a side plate on the end of a pole is stuck between your legs and this pulls you up the slope.
Easy stuff, right? How hard could it possibly be? Leaning your upper body forward, one prepares for the gentle tug as the button begins to gain momentum.
If one is going to fall, this is the place where the falling will take place.
Several people had fallen at this point already.
So as the pole tugs, I'm on my merry way. Thinking to myself - this really wasn't that hard. Honestly!
As I begin to relax, I notice my left ski en route to have a tea party with my right ski. The second I attempt to break the party, I get invited too as my face joins my skis, ploughing the snow.
I had moved about 25 metres from the start and everyone is watching me as I move gracefully and elegantly out of the way - like a beached whale dragging two aircraft carriers behind him.
We continue. We persevere. After four days we are already on the more challenging of blue (beginner) slopes.
Snow falls, it's overcast and windy. There is little contrast between the sky and snow and the snow appears to disguise itself as one attempts to traverse the moguls and ice patches that can barely be seen. Like a pro, I plug in my headphones, play some Muse and 30 Seconds to Mars and I'm psyched and ready for action.
Down the steeper, icier section I proceed, harder, faster, braver (sillier); providing entertainment for the people on the lifts as I wrap my skis around my neck in positions not deemed possible by people who are not olympic gymnasts.
It's all good. I search for my skis, pick up my self esteem and remove the snow from every orifice on my head before continuing.
Next run - more controlled, less speed, more focus on shifting weight between skis...
I lose control and very nearly take out some German guy who proceeds to mumble foreign curses at me, sounding like he was choking on a schnitzel.
I apologised profusely and carried on - getting wind burn, chaffing the blisters on my feet and shins and my eyes watering from the cold, coupled with aches from falling a few times was WAY too much fun to stop now! 2 more runs and I'm ready to head back to the hotel via cable car. My body couldn't handle any more. Having pushed the limits; I was content.
All of the lessons take place up in the mountains at a place called Idalp.
Idalp is only practically accessible via Gondola (cable car) or helicopter.
There is another option back from Idalp to Ischgl, however.
On day 5, I prepare for my first ski run into Ischgl itself to end the day's skiing. And for my 2nd batch of red slopes (the first batch done on the way to Switzerland).
This means it's roughly a 40 minute ski from Idalp, in the mountains, down to the hotel in Ischgl (really, literally just outside the hotel).
These are now intermediate slopes. They're a little steeper and a little narrower than the blue slopes. They also happen to be filled with little moguls all over the show from the day's traffic. So when negotiating a slope, it's ice, powder, ice, powder.
But I think I'm a pro now, so I head out with much zest and courage.
After hitting a speed wobble and looking like a ballerina in fast forward, I involuntarily ate some snow on the way down (not just once).
I could have sworn my skis were being controlled by someone playing Xbox nearby - and NOT me!
All I need to do next time is learn to maintain the speed and courage, but ski with the grace and elegance of the others. I get the feeling that perhaps a caveman walking through a thorn bush would have looked better :)
By the last day of skiing, I was able to negotiate a single black (advanced) slope.
Very steep, fairly narrow, lots of ice...
I pulled it off fairly well I think (somehow) and after having calmed myself down and convincing myself that I was still alive, it was actually great.
The lady that was on the slope when I had started was about half way at this point. Clearly I was lacking in the speed control department!
That said - the adrenaline is amazing!
I don't think I would have liked to see myself on video, but hey - the rush was fun!
If you're ever considering a ski trip - try Ischgl. It's truly outstanding!
