Never learned to ski and am now too scaredy.
Nigel, however did learn to ski, although he hasn’t had the opportunity for 30 years.
Pascoe didn’t learn to ski – his school’s ski trip was to the USA and was too expensive. (Clearly the only reason they didn’t book Mars or Venus is because there’s no snow.)
But then Pascoe moved to Edinburgh.
When there’s snow in the Cairngorms (and it’s not too fierce), intrepid skiers leap into a car and head for Glenshee.
When we visited Pascoe he was itching to go back there.
It wasn't something we'd planned on, but when would Nigel and Pascoe ever get another chance to ski together?
Nigel hired a car. Pascoe divided up his outdoor clothes between the two of them. I bought them some thick gloves.
I thought wistfully of staying in Edinburgh and going shopping, but if there were any injuries, I would be needed to drive back.
Never mind, I would take my book of Greek myths and sit sipping a hot chocolate in the elegant ski café watching the scene. It would be glamorous.
However, when we arrived the café was a complete zoo. It was a brilliant mass of tired kids and patient Mums, all jostling on the hard benches while snow melted all over the floor. People were chatty. But the queue for tea was out the door and looping back through the blizzard. I didn’t manage much reading and even less hot chocolate.
The boys had a great day. Nigel had easily recalled his technique. Despite a fall or two, nobody got hurt.
And my reward?
Up there in the Cairngorms I saw a pair of golden eagles and a small flock of snow buntings a good outcome for a bird lover.