My First Time Skiing

My ski experience, for the most part, is pretty standard. Standard for people that start snow sports in the UK anyway. I started by having a lesson on a dry slope. I was able to work up through the basic movements including, side stepping, straight running, snow plough and then progressing up to parallel turns. Now, this is where my ski experience becomes a little less standard. I began doing ski tech and teaching little ones as a ski instructor on this dry slope. I was around the ski equipment most days, learning how things worked. I was adjusting skis and allocating skier codes and teaching VERY beginner skills to children… After doing this for around a year I thought it was time to go on the real stuff. 

I am a working class girly! I have not been blessed with yearly ski holidays to Les Alpes, so this was going to be my first time seeing and touching real snow… My main concerns were coming back broken, embarrassing myself by falling off a ski lift or having to be rescued by mountain rescue. I’ve heard the horror stories from friends about their ordeals and I was not feeling too hopeful about coming back in one piece. 

Day 1

Tour De France Sculpture- a few miles west of Tarbes

I flew out on my own and met some of my family friends out in France. Top tip: go with some locals! We went to the French Pyrenees. Once we arrived in the region, tour de France sculptures adorned the roads. On the drive up to the mountain the snow got thicker the higher we climbed, and the mist became increasingly dense. We worked our way around the winding mountain chicanes to reach the base of the resort where we abandoned the car (French style) and proceeded to change into ski gear. I was then met with my first mistake of the day. I wore my fantastically flattering Lululemon all in one … Let me tell you, changing out of this and into my ski gear in a car packed with no wiggle room, broke me into a sweat. Once I was out of the Lululemon I began pulling layer upon layer onto my chilled body. Imagine an Everest expedition level of layers. I saw ice and dusted bushes all around me and thought well, it must be freezing up there. The last step to heading out was squeezing on my Lange ski boots which overall went well…for now. I left like the Michelin man as I waddled my way through the car park, each step I was getting hotter and hotter. By the time I reached the strand line of the snow I could feel a drop of sweat beading down the seam of my spine. At that moment I knew I had made my second mistake of the day. Too many layers... I spent the rest of the day sweaty, dehydrated and parched. Getting on a ski lift for the first time was a real test of my mental dexterity. Following instructions at the same time as being told to “ALLEZ” by a French lifty adorned with a mullet, La Sportiva gaiters and a cigarette was an experience I can’t forget. The smell of tobacco clouded past me as I pushed out of the starting block and slid into the allocated seat area. I braced for impact as the chair lift slammed into the back of my knees and whisked me away from the very French lifty. up, up and away to my first mountain run! 

The mountain once the snow cleared!

Lessons

Me after receiving my Gold Star from Florent <3

I booked myself onto the ESF (Ecole de Ski Français) for the intermediate lessons. I booked intermediate because I understood the beginner lessons to cover, putting skis on for the first time and the basic principles of movement. Now despite the fact that I have only ever done this on a dry slope, I felt I could pick this up in full once I was there. My goal was to get better at parallel.  My lessons were in the morning each day for five days starting at 9:00 and finishing at 12:00. My ski instructor, Florent, was fantastic and he spoke French, Spanish and English. It was very impressive to watch him switch between each. I was pre-warned about the ESF Instructors, and they were right to warn me. They can be… blunt. The standards are high with those guys! You can’t miss an ESF instructor head to toe in scarlet red, a gleaming tan on a third of their face and gorgeously tanned hands, pockets weighed down with bonbons, sporting a beanie instead of a helmet and they ski as if it’s as easy as walking. Spoiler alert. It’s not! During lesson 1, after snow plowing down a couple of green runs, a few people in our group were culled off to the beginner group and a few were handed down from the advanced skier group. Savage! My lovely French Auntie made it very clear to me before the lesson began, “Be French and be in the first 3 Jasmine”. What she meant by this was to embody the French culture of no ques, be first or don’t bother. So I did just that! Because of this I ended up getting some great tips on my ski performance which quickly improved my skill level. I learnt so much from each day of those lessons. Having an instructor who can take one look at you and know where you need to be challenged and brought back was fundamental to my improvement. By the end of the week I was awarded to Gold Star from the ESF snow school... I may have been happier about receiving this than my degree, but don't tell my Dad!

After lessons 

After my lessons had finished for the day, it was lunch time. My stomach would groan desperately for French bread sandwiches but the journey to eating wasn’t quite finished. Patiently I sat on the ski lift to be taken up to our lunch spot. Most days we had a picnic high on the mountain which, if I’m being honest, was definitely a highlight of the holiday. Looking out onto the vista of gleamingly white mountain caps and twinkling snow all around was breath taking. Small peaks of granite poked through the white blanket like the fingers of springs looming hand. After devouring a French bread sandwich I skied with others or alone until the resort closed. Towards the end of the week my confidence built and my instructor gave me the go ahead to try reds and even blacks… I opted for the red option as I was skiing alone and knew my limits. I was able to take lesson pointers from the morning and consolidate the skills in the afternoon. By the end of the week I was paralleling confidently and starting to pick up speed! I often caught one of the last lifts of the day and worked my way down the mountain where the snow became more like moguls and the ‘soup’ (English Slush) got worse. It was always an interesting journey back down. At this time of day, more often than before, the ski rescue orange flashed past skiing down the mountain with a broken skier in tow. After skiing all day my thighs were screaming and fire was building through my calves up to my abbs. Bruises from earlier tumbles began to ache and the sense of achievement in my soul burned brighter than any fire in my limbs. I would most likely hurt tomorrow. 

To conclude 

Skiing can be expensive so I borrowed gear from my lovely friend Sophie and bought second hand bits from my friends and vinted. Did I look like an Instagram model… No … But did I feel confident and have gear that worked really well for me… Absolutely yes! A few key pointers, Do’s and Don’ts  I will be doing next time. 

• Do Layer appropriately for the weather 

• Do Wear clothes you can easily change into 

• Do Try the lifts before your lessons 

• Do Remember to drink water

• Do pack snacks for the day 

• Do pack a picnic!

• Don’t over do it, When there is a lot of people getting rescued of the mountain maybe it’s time to retire yourself for the day- could be the conditions

• Don’t bother buying the latest Zara Ski, second hand from a good outdoor brand will be more than fine

The feeling of sending it down a mountain, my brain totally focused on the task at hand unable to fathom anything other than what my skis were doing beneath my feet, is what I will now be seeking out for the rest of my life. I instilled the confidence in myself to fly out alone and do the lessons (Mostly in French) by myself. I’m empowered from this trip! I am counting down the days until I’m on a mountain again. Breathing in the thin, cold air into my lungs, whilst looking out onto the snowscape. I just can’t wait!