My friends are back from their respective skiing trips. My female friend had a lovely time overall, but in a “hated every minute” sort of way. My male friend had a brilliant time. I just LOVE the comparison between the two stories. I know it’s not about being male or female, but the difference in their approach and overall experience is hilarious.
Female friend’s report:-
“It was bloody terrifying. They made me ski with them every day and it was a nightmare because they were all SO much better than me which meant they had to keep waiting for me and they always waited at the edge of a f*cking cliff and by the time I had cried my way down there, sliding or snow ploughing or taking my ski’s off and walking they had had a huge rest and my legs were burning and then I had to carry on. I didn’t get any rest and had to work twice as hard as them. On one run, when they promised me I’d be fine, I thought I was going to die. It was in the middle of a bloody blizzard, we couldn’t see a thing and the track was a single file icy path that I couldn’t turn on. My husband was apologising and I was crying hysterically and saying “AS THE MOTHER OF YOUR THREE CHILDREN HOW COULD YOU LET THIS BE HAPPENING TO ME”. I couldn’t even enjoy the lunches – I didn’t want to drink because I was too terrified of falling over whilst drunk and I fell off a button lift and couldn’t even negotiate the queues properly because my bloody ski pass was always in the wrong place and I had to gyrate through the barriers and it was really uncomfortable and I’ve put on 8lbs and I felt really fat in my ski suit because I ate so many chips in case it was my last meal ever – by the end it was really tight and I couldn’t even fit my packet of fags in any of the pockets my jacket AND what’s more I was the only one who only had one outfit – everybody else had a different jacket to wear everyday! and FYI DO NOT under any circumstances go skiing with a new lover because you’ll look like shit every morning. My face swelled up and I looked about 100 and I was covered in bruises and my eyes got really puffy – I lost 5 pairs of contact lenses which probably just disappeared behind my eyeballs with fear, or I’ve got them all still stuck on top of each other in my eyes and one day because I was so scared at the thought of going skiing again I offered to have sex all afternoon with anybody who agreed to stay in the chalet with me – male, female, animal, I didn’t care, just as long as I didn’t have to go skiing and guess what? They all went bloody skiing. THEN, although the night life was great, I was feeling so fat and worried about skiing that I didn’t want to drink loads and I had to keep pouring shots in plant pots and everybody was dancing on the tables but one of the people I was with was actually a bloody professional pole dancer so she was fantastic and everybody was cheering for her and I was rubbish”……and so on…..and so on….
Male friend’s report (from Cresta Run):-
First run complete. Warned to remove watches and coats – they will be destroyed by ice. Walls are rough as rock, not slippery friendly snow we think. 30 seconds. Get into position. Can’t see much as wearing a big helmet and staring at the ice. Go. As the speed builds up you are pressed into the turns. Your face is just off the ice. Your back flat, like somebody is sitting on you. All you can see is a blur. Then the final run. The speed is awesome. No idea whether I’m supposed to point or tuck. Yes. Tuck in otherwise your arms get smashed against the walls on the final run. My arms got whacked anyway. Then again, then again.
Second attempt painful.
Third attempt brilliant. Weight forward. Sheer speed. When you lose control you smack against the wall then bounce to the other side like a snooker ball bouncing off the cushions. Except there are no cushions, just sharp painful blows. Each corner gets higher and faster.
One more to go. I feel like the shit has been beaten out of me. My armour has been smashed. I am in pain.
Think arm is OK. Just swollen (sent hideous picture of arm packed in ice).
Can’t quite believe it but came third. Bruises to prove it.
In a nightclub. Dancing on tables. Huge fun. Crowd diving from tables etc
On table. Need to entertain 200.
February 3rd, 2010 at 6:54 pm
I see so much of your female friend in my approach to skiing!
Hilarious, when you are not being subjected to it!
February 3rd, 2010 at 9:25 pm
Oh god I just about wet myself reading the female version.
If she had been in front of me I would have wanted to go and give her a big fat hug, but unable to actually do thanks to only being able to stagger a few inches with my legs tightly crossed, giggling like mad, in what might come across as a not very compassionate way.
I’m streaming.
Tell that woman to blog.
February 3rd, 2010 at 10:32 pm
Really funny! Made me smile. Your female friend….I’ve had similar experiences..tantrums at the top of mountains refusing to budge wondering what the hell i am doing this for. Not daring to have a drop of alcohol whilst skiing etc..
I do like it as well at times. ;0)
Your male friend- oooo- no thanks, sounds very scary. Apart from the dancing on the tables bit!
February 4th, 2010 at 6:04 am
All that skiing would have been a great work out for your female friend! I know it kills after a day or two of solid skiing but you feel great afterward and your so much strong that you can ski better and longer.
February 4th, 2010 at 12:23 pm
I should have mentioned my sweaty ‘helmet’ hair from the helmet they hired me as it would make me sooo much more confident (not) and in fact only highlighted my great big double chin as they obviously found me a tight childs helmet – just to make it all the more funny. I also borrowed pole dancing ‘I haven’t been for 5 years but in a previous life was a snow boarding British champion’ old ski’s – and spend most mornings insisting they came up to my forhead NOT MY NOSE and therefore my inability to turn through the un-bashed piste and fall over at every bump was due to the skis and not my technique. In between shouting at my husband ‘if this cliff is not covered in ice, what is this then??’ as I navigated my way down by sliding on my bottom ski – only to be told by him that he struggled to understand my distress as apparently it was a blue. (although they informed me when I slid down the mountain ski-less with said too tight jacket and way too tight trousers unflatteringly exposing too tight fleece and daughters thermals – that it was a cheeky black???) Blue, Red, Black – aparently they are just colours – NOT WHEN YOU CAN’T SKI! At the end of the holiday everyone was enthusiastically dicussing next year’s venue – bloody Barbados for me, cocktails and a trashy book, and maybe a little water arobics session in the pool. Please come with me L???
February 4th, 2010 at 11:51 pm
I will be there with you in the sunshine. No problem Lx
February 5th, 2010 at 7:32 am
Barbados? Excellent. We can go shark diving and use Michael Winner as bait.
February 4th, 2010 at 4:47 pm
Very funny, thought your friend was incredibly brave to carry on I would have been faking ankle injury by second day……..Men they are just strange, wired diffently with obvious invincible body thoughts its coming from Mars that does it:)