I cant move... well not quickly at least. On Monday the heavens opened and dropped 30 cms worth of snow over everything. No I didn't get buried alive, you are just being silly now but it did tempt me to dig out the old set of cross country skis that we have in our storage. I was keen to have a go since having watched a Swedish kiddies program, as you do, I realise that in previous years Maria had forgotten to inform me of an important part of the ski preparation. Cross country skis are waxed in two ways, the front and backs with a wax that helps the glide and with a sticky wax in the middle which comes into play when the skis are pressed downwards. In previous years whenever I tried to climb a hill I would get so far before the lack of grip under the skis would return me unceremoniously to the bottom with arms, legs poles and skis flying out at all angles.

So on sunrise Tuesday morning I set out for the tracks. The plan being that there would be few people about at this time of the day and if I did still had trouble climbing hills I wouldn't collect people on my way down. The downside of this cunning plan of course is that the absence of people I was hoping for also included the man will prepares the track on his snowmobile. It is perfectly possible to ski on unprepared tracks but its not the best way for a beginner to start. But I was pumped up and was determined to have a go, why does that sound like it is going to lead me to my doom? Pride before a fall maybe.

Or maybe not. Its seems that despite the deeper snow making it harder work I was actually making progress complete with the swoosh swoosh sound effects. Sometimes provide by the snow and sometimes amplified by myself...Swoosh Swooosh weeee.....Swooosh Swooosh weeeeee. Of course it wasn't all plain sailing, the route I wanted to want was blocked of by even deeper snow. This meant I was forced to take the higher route, the route which having been run in the summer contains numerous rather nasty hills. What the heck I will have a go, and to my surprise I found I was actually shuffling up the hillside and staying there, not flying backwards in cartoon out of control style. By means of shuffling and the upward plodding with skis technique to the summit. The joy and jubilation. I could have jumped up and down, perhaps I would have if it wasnt for the two long sticks attached to my feet. Has anyone an English flag? I claimed this summit for the motherland.

And then quickly disclaim it as the reality hits. As I have never managed to climb hills of this extent before I have therefore never managed to ski down any either. I still don't really know the best ways to stop or turn or anything really. Soon the hills could be alive with the sound of screaming. The first hill wasn't too bad just a gentle warm up slope, no worries. Then another and another. I cant say I was ever in control but at least I was able to stay on my feet. Your a mean crowd. I get the feeling your waiting for the part where I trip over, get sent flying landing with my head buried benenth the snow and just two skis wiggling in the air to mark my position. Well I am sorry to disappoint, but look at it this way, with my skiing talents its a postponement rather than a cancellation.