It was still dark outside when Jon got out of bed and started rustling bags and being generally annoying at what I thought was 3:00am. As it turned out it was in fact 7:00am and time to get out of bed, don my snow gear and hop on a bus bound for the mountains where we would hurl ourselves down slopes with our feet attached to ironing boards.

Last night heralded the opening of winterfest with a large gathering of people in the freezing cold to be entertained by a succession of universally appealing acts. Jon and I baulked at the oh-too-jolly cover band and the NZ idol winner (but then so did everyone else bar the front 3 rows) but were very impressed by the Mauri performers with their laser and fire show, the pipers, and the fireworks. We felt compelled to get into the spirit of things by downing plenty of mulled wine and beer and smoking cigars to celebrate.

Thus we were less than on form this morning.

Our skiing destination was the remarkable Remarkables (I will never tire of saying that!) and we were not dissappointed. The coach journey gave the sun time to rise and after the steep and winding climb up the mountain we were greeted by a vast and glistening snowscene replete with lifts and skiiers. We were priveleged to discover that we were only the second coach load to arrive this season as this was the first day of opening and so the snow was powdery and huggable.

Having never done any sort of skiing activity before we bumbled our way through the process of hiring snow boards and boots, but managed to be in the right place at the right time to receive our lesson from our friendly french instructor, marjorie. The morning consisted of vaguely sliding about, sitting on our arses in the snow and subsequently climbing back up the small hill with the board attached to one foot as if shackled to a petulent child. The final part of the lesson involved being hurled at a terrifying speed down the somewhat tame nursery slope and learning to stop by plunging ourselves into the snow with some painful consequences.

The afternoon was much the same story but with more instruction and more of an idea what it was we should have been doing but weren't. I did, however, learn to look up and began to really appreciate the scenery which had been sympathetically smiling down on us all day. Never before had I seen so much snow placed so perfectly. It glistened in the sun on peaks composed so well that any artist would be proud to have arranged them, with subtle hues of blues and oranges and it was then that I really began to appreciate why people were so keen on hurling themselves down them at speed.

We completed the day having had a fantastic time, feeling as if we had made some progress, with no broken bones and just a smattering of bruises, vowing that we will go again and NEXT time we'll get it right...

say cheese!