A Day in the life of a Swiss Ski Instructor
Another day in Villars-sur-Ollon. At eight am the sun is shining
and reflecting brightly back from the piled snow lying outside
the dark wood chalet. It looks as if it will be around for
another couple of months. That's good I won't need to look for
another job, just yet!
The first group is waiting by the pommel bar ski lift on the
nursery slope beside the Hotel du Parc. It's just gone 9am. This
is the second lesson with this lot, mostly American school
children attending one of the many International Schools in the
area. The pommel bar on this beginners slope goes off at a
terrific jerk and usually causes someone to fall off and reduce
the lift area to chaos. Sometimes the operators are obliged to
turn off the lift in order to rescue some novice who has managed
to fall more spectacularly than normal. With this group it
happens twice and I get a very dirty look from the operator.
Now, were up at the tree line gazing down a short but relatively
steep slope. We're
going to do snow plough turns all the way to the bottom,
follow me!" I shout as I lead my charges crocodile file across
and then down the slope. I am really beginning to agree with my
American colleague, Betty, who maintains that nobody should
teach "snow plough" as it gets in the way of Stem Christies and
then parallel turns. Oh, dear some has lost control, but the
downward "schuss" has been altered by a conveniently located
drift which brings the young skier to a crashing halt.
Meet the second group at the Roc d'Orsay telecabine. No
difficulties here, we pile in and enjoy the ride over the trees
and up the mountain. This is another group of English speaking
kids, again mostly American but there is a British voice and an
Australian twang amongst this group. I assemble them at the top
of the run, and before skis are attached ask that all staffed
bindings are checked. If a binding jams or does not budge they
get sent off back down on the gondola to the ski shop to have
the offending article unjammed .It's daft to avoid this sensible
precaution, but the kids don't like it one bit! On this occasion
all is well and we set off in file down the mountain. The snow
is crisp, just a touch of ice here and there, and over the
moguls we go. What bliss, as the snow hisses beneath the skis,
the sun beats down and all is well with the world all those
years ago!
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