Welp, believe it or not, it was only now that I could get hold of the photos!
Without further ado, though, here's a condensed version of what happened during those few disastrous January days.
After being put in the same group as last year - the total beginners - I was both alarmed and strangely confident. "I can do this", I thought. I already have those four crucial days of experience which will make so much of a difference. By the end of the week, I'll be exquisitely gliding down the black slope.
WRONG.
While I did have two days of victory, the rest were nothing more than - in the words of Churchill - blood, toil, tears and sweat. The beginners overtook me, a guy frontally crashed into me, my ski poles went up in the air and my skis fell off, and later that day I also fell out of the chairlift, dragging my PE teacher with me. Oh, and the next day there was a snowstorm, I was left behind on my own right on the top of the mountain, the ski lifts stopped working and the best idea I had was to simply lie down in the snow and wait for the ambulance to rescue me, as they were the only ones left up there. It was only once I got to a cliff that I spotted my Physics teacher waiting for me, who then subsequently started yelling at me to get my sh*t together. Gee, thanks. By the time we got to the bottom, nobody else was on the mountain.
Yeah, I don't think I'm going skiing again. Ever.
Here are some photos to help you visualize my struggle:
That is me in the neon yellow pants. I spent all my $$$ on ski attire, because I thought I'd need it in the future. Naive...
And here are some photos to prove that I did have one or two bright moments:
After I couldn't get up, the girls decided to lower themselves to my level...
YAY SKI CAMP! SO MUCH FUN!
View from our hotel.
SO MUCH LUV
FUN FUN FUN
Leaving the mountain for good.
Photo credit: Dalma and Liza <3 Thanks girls for putting up with my hopelessness and complaints and uncontrollable tears, that I did a very bad job hiding.
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