A few years ago, Tasneem Mohamed wrote this article, Can't Ski, Won't Ski about her contentment as a non-skier. I was so happy to read about a fellow can't-skier, I had to write a response in appreciation.
Tasneem's sentiments about not skiing ring true—for me. Let me explain!
My legs don't want to bend left and right in a concerted, synchronised effort. My bum levitates off its axis at the thought of falling onto cold concrete—I mean, snow. Bend at the knees whilst pivoting your body left and right and maintain an upright, coordinated pose? Come on! I am not a flamingo! I am no cheetah!
So I fully understand how one can happily go to a beautiful, ski resort - the kind where people happily walk about in their OWN ski boots and ski gear, carrying their OWN skis - and have no intentions of hitting a single slope.
Tasneem and I are the same person in this matter. There are plenty of very luxurious, equally exhilarating things to do in a ski resort, whilst the rest of the family are fine falling face-first into the snow, or trying their darndest to keep their four limbs from acting out the YMCA dance.
Come on! I am not a flamingo! I am no cheetah!
For the first time in nearly 25 years, I was on the same continent as a very old friend of mine. We were close, but since the late 90s, had not seen each other except through Facebook. Last Christmas she invited us to spend Christmas with her family. She lives in Switzerland. Land of snow-capped mountains. Land of people-with-their-own-ski-gear. Her three children and her husband adore skiing, but my friend ... not so much.
So she introduced me to the delights of 'Not-skiing, Not-sorry'. In Montreux. The prettiest town since sliced bread.
Things to do Whilst Not Skiing:
Whilst the others were splaying out all their irreplaceable limbs with only chopsticks for support, we enjoyed the following delights:
Read our Kindle. Alone. Unhampered by "I'm hungry, Mum", "I'm bored, Mum", "Can I buy this [insert name of the-latest-pink thing], Mum?"
Drink mulled wine. Again... undisturbed by little people, shrill voices.
Eat! Savour freshly prepared, super yummy steak tartares, whilst sipping white wine. Without having to simultaneously eagle-eye a little person's attempt to drink hot chocolate successfully.
People-Watch! Behind those sunglasses, rated for ski-slopes... you can ogle as much as you want.
Spa! Of this I did not partake personally, although there were certainly plenty of signs for places that allow you to bask in warmth while enjoying the serenity of limbs being exactly where they ought to be.
This, I argue, is good chops. This, I argue, is good reason to happily chug along to a ski-slope, happily enter the ski resorts, sans clumpy gear. Happy not skiing.
* For those who have mastered skiing, this is an excellent list of family-friendly ski resorts compiled by Amsterdam Mamas.
Audrey Coggins is *that* Crazy Asian Lady. That one that is working to develop a strawberry and olive chiffon cake recipe that wins. That one that doesn't take herself seriously—by choice. She is also Amsterdam Mama's Chief Copyeditor and sometime-Content-Manager.