A Day in the Alps, and a Fall from Grace.

We went skiing. My son's choice for a birthday celebration.

It's like riding a bike right?

We arrived in the gorgeous alpine region. A Gondola ride took us high into the Alps.

We enjoyed awe-inspiring views and saw crazy people ice-climbing. In the gondola with us was a family where the mother spoke to the kids in German and to her husband in French. The father spoke in Italian to the children. The kids answered everyone in French.  Welcome to Switzerland 🙂

It’s been about five years. Last time we were in shocking conditions at Mt Buller in Victoria Australia. I was doing well enough for my Swiss hubby not to take off looking for more hair-bending snowboarding adventures. He stayed with me and said he wouldn’t do much more in such poor visibility anyway. They closed that part off shortly afterward.

Some figure skating skills such as edges, speed control, and weight transfer, seem to transfer to skiing. Giving me the ability to, at least, avoid as many falls as I'd otherwise have had as a beginner. Enough to actually enjoy myself.


The day started off well enough.

I managed to get my pants on five years on (just). Things were looking fine. It was a warm 6 degrees with the sun shining. I went in feeling confident about having a good day.

Once we were at the ski field, the first step was a handheld pulley to escort us across the flat snow. From there we could take the T-bar up to higher grounds.

Hubby went off, Mr eleven, little Miss seven, and now my turn. Of course, I managed to grab the pulley!

It didn’t go as smoothly as the sight of the local skiers and children would make you believe!

One wrong move and a ski came off and I fell, then the other ski came off. The phrase "arse over tit" captures the moment perfectly. Or as my son would say, SMASH!

I lost a little confidence, but I got back up. Ok just between you and me, I felt like sitting the day out but I didn’t. Just a rough start. That’s out of the way now. It’s got to get better. Let’s do this! I made it to the T-bar lift.

I’m quite a resilient person. But, my resilience takes time, and the t-bars were coming at lightning speed.

Fortunately, there was a break from t-bars and these little round things came. They were far easier to manoeuvre. Slightly bigger than a baby's head and you whack it between your legs and it pulls you up.  Easy peasy.

Almost at the top, and whoops, Mr 11 tumbled off the bar! Showing concern for my son I asked.

“Are you ok?”




The sound got quieter as I was pulled up the mountain (his dad was behind me and would be of more use than me).

I got off shortly afterward and went over the edge to where one would normally begin the descent. Snaking down the mountain in a series of S-turns. Feeling the cool wind in your hair and enjoying the stunning vista of the Swiss alps.


It wasn’t the Swiss alps on offer yesterday but Swiss hospitality.

Let me explain…

As I descended from camel toe lift I stacked it, again. I laid on the snow. Perfectly content with the soft surroundings. Looking up to the beautiful clear blue sky Adelboden had on offer.

I could see little miss 7 and her dad waiting for me. Eagerly awaiting my descent, only about 50 m down the mountain so he could get to our son. I laid and contemplated getting up.

I also mentally planned out my next few moves. Visualising what I'd encounter and creating a little mind movie of success in my head. The kind of visualising that has afforded me some success as a mediocre adult figure skater.

I was on the edge still, I had a short steep descent. Not a nice flat stable, grounding one in my predicament could hope for. My predicament being that I hadn’t skied in 5 years, new boots, new skis. Still recovering from last week's flu, and a pinched nerve.

The thought of making it 50 m down the mountain, in a way that one might deem successful was incomprehensible.

I couldn’t get up. I’d beached myself on the snow and laughed, and laughed.

​Little Miss 7 was waving up at mum. I couldn't see from the sun in my eyes, but I think hubby was bursting with pride. Waiting to be bamboozled with the level of skill he'd seen a few years ago.

And mum was in hysterics. No, not freaking out. I couldn’t stop laughing.


A man came and helped me up. Thank goodness.

I made it down the steep part…phew!


But! I’d need to turn soon. And I had no recollection of how I’d ever accomplished a turn before. My muscle memory was taking a while to upload.

So down I went. My knee was in an unfortunate position. Not hurt, but it was uncomfortable, felt a little stuck, and would be strained if I tried to get up.

More Swiss hospitality. The lovely lady was trying to help me up. I said I thought we’d need to remove the ski. She felt I just needed to get up. She called her husband over for extra help.

Ski off. Beached whale up. And I shat myself the whole way down the mountain.


I was thrilled to have made it down!

The sun was shining brightly. It was getting hot actually.

Only one run and I was hot and sweaty in ways only my peri-menopausal friends will completely appreciate.

I was so happy to be down. I somehow made it down before the rest of them. As the kids were only on their third day of skiing and snowboarding.

I took off my jacket and was still hot. It wasn’t only me. Looking around it was clear to see it had become an open jacket kind of day. Others, like me, had removed them altogether, choosing to remain sporting only a soft shell.

It was enough, for them.

My hot flush demanded more!

So I took my merino off to sit in my T-shirt to cool off a little. As carefully as my worn-out body allowed, I took care to ensure I didn’t expose my pants that had become undone after breakfast that morning.

Pants that were being held up by by husbands industrial strength belt that had come to the rescue that morning.

I sat there in my t-shirt, not for a little while, no, I committed fully to cooling down and sat there in only my t-shirt for a good 30 minutes.

And I sat there, still laughing at myself. Not only did I look disheveled, but I was also the crazy lady laughing by herself.

The first run had been too big for the kids and me.


We happily went to the kiddy area.

I went down the kiddy run a couple of times, then sat out as my pinched nerve was cranky. I had a coffee and some ibuprofen for my pinched nerve and rejoined them, eventually.

No more falls. It seems the muscle memory finished uploading. I found my feet and felt quite comfortable, and found my flow of nice turns and weight changes. Even ready to face the other run again, but didn’t as the kids were happily working on learning new skills.

It seems the grace of the figure skater from last weekend's competition got lost in translation.


What’s the moral of the story? Baby steps.

Last week I wrote a blog about layers of wellbeing that it seems the universe wanted me to embody.

A layer of wellbeing

When it all turns to shit and you haven’t a clue what to do. Simplify and get comfortable with the basics.

It’s also time to ramp up some lifestyle modifications of my own now that we are settling into our home for now.

Time to practice what I preach, women's wellness, and give my reproductive wellbeing a little love.

Time to practice what I preach, women's wellness.

I’ll be coaching myself on foods to help hormonal balance and reduce inflammation. Exercise and stretches to feel more nimble and alleviate my pinched nerve. They might also help take a couple of cm off my waist to help my ski pants out a little.

I'll share some adventures of (a middle-aged peri-menopausal woman) Aussie in Switzerland with you.

I’d love you to cheer me on or let me know if I inspire any change in what you’re doing. Or when things go pear-shaped, I’m totally down for that LOL.


You can send me message links to my social media below.

With Love, Ileana xx