I've grown up feeling quite afraid of skiing. Watching school friends come back from trips to the dry ski slope with bruised skin, broken arms and other injuries put me off. My brother and I share this fear. Before my trip to Bali, we faced our fears together and signed up for a beginners ski session at Chill Factore, a real snow indoor ski slope in Manchester. Truthfully, I bought him a voucher as a gift to encourage him along with me. "We'll be fine!", I assured him, trying desperately to assure myself at the same time.
How was it? Oh my word - skiing is difficult! We were only on the beginners slope, which probably had the same incline as some people's driveways. Sidestepping up after every awkward downhill tumble took some effort. Gliding definitely did not come naturally to me. Falling and slipping seemed to feature a lot and at the end of the lesson after one and a half hours of effort-full sidesteps and a soggy bum, I felt quite defeated. Pretty sure that my brother and I were the worst in our class (and I'm not so good with not being good at something!). One woman decided to call it a day after one sidestep up the slop, so I felt that at least I'd given it a good go.
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