Cold mountain
by This email address is being protected from spam bots, you need Javascript enabled to view it on Saturday, 06 December 2008
Madeleine Collins takes to the slopes of Ski Dubai and rediscovers a lost love.
Ski Dubai is one of the places in this city I always say that I am dying to visit, but I never do. The thing is, I've never quite known whether to book a lesson or just show up and try my best alone on the slopes.
The only time I've ever been ‘real' skiing was in the French Alps four years ago. I took to it like a duck to water and was weaving down the ‘blue' slopes like a love-struck
maniac after my first few lessons. I had never quite anticipated my need for speed but it was alive and kicking on the slopes of Les Gets and skiing provided the incredible rush I felt I'd been waiting my whole life for.
Unfortunately I haven't been near snow since, so Ski Dubai has always been an enticing option. I decide it's time to put my best ski forward and indulge in a lesson.
After being kitted out - Ski Dubai provide the whole skiing outfit apart from gloves (which cost from 10dhs in the shop) and hat - I'm met by my Russian instructor, Artem, who seems a little brusque initially.
To my disappointment, when checking my previous experience, he seems to focus more on the "four years ago" bit than "I was really fast for a beginner".
He merely looks at me deadpan and directs me to the baby slope to put me through my paces. We begin by a few jumps over ski poles to warm up but after just one I feel like I've put my back out because my skis are so heavy. "I can't do that," I whine. Again, the deadpan face.
I look longingly at the grinning, chatty instructors but I suppose Artem's frosty demeanour is rather fitting given the environment. He also seems skeptical at my claims of "I was doing that in the French Alps" when I point at people whizzing down the long, steep slope beside us.
When I exclaim "I used to do jumps and everything!" he barely acknowledges me, and I as good as give up. I sense I'm in for a bit of a boring time.
To be honest, although I did master a jump at practically every turn on the blue slopes of the Alps, I'm not sure it was a technically correct maneovre, and possibly I was simply lucky to get away with no broken bones.
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