Sliding bores

Not quite so educational today but waaaaaaaay harder on the body. Still, my brain wasn't allowed to take a total back seat. Here is what I've learned:

• Cross country skiing. I mean. It is the most complete exercise form I've ever taken, other than swimming. Every. Single. Muscle. in your legs, your arms, your buttocks, your core, your back, your shoulders - all agony. But in a good way. Highly, highly recommended. We are going to go again.
• There are two types of cross country skiing - one where you go along in slim parallel furrows, which are carved out of the snow by a special piste machine. The other involves scooting along with your skis in a V-shape, far apart at the front and close together at the back. Each type of skiing has different skis, poles and boots. We did the former as it is easier. Your toe is attached to the ski by a binding, but your heel is free. You glide along like a beautiful ice dancer. Theoretically. In practice it is initially hard, and nothing like normal skiing. But we picked it up quickly.
• The Finns call cross country skiing 'skiing'. Downhill skiing is called 'downhill skiing'. So, if you're going skiing at the weekend, it's on the flat.

We set out, as a ten, at around 10.30am. Our ages varied from mid-twenties to mid-sixties. Within about ten yards, as I'd expected, I was pouring sweat like a jazz trumpeter during a seminal July set at Ronnie Scott's, pre-aircon. Fortunately, I know my body and was confident that, given time, I would acclimatise. After a few kilometers, I did. The older members of our party later admitted that they'd struggled, which seemed very reasonable to me. But although the activity was extremely energetic, there were no animals involved, which meant that it was inevitably slightly less incident-heavy than yesterday. I fell down on my knee at one point, and Grania headbutted the ground at another, but both those mishaps occurred in the first few moments and we were soon smoothly on our way.

After lunch back at the hotel, we took the minibus to the nearest big resort, Levi, pronounced like that which is dry in American Pie. Everyone else took the time to peruse the shops, but, ever-ambitious, Grania and I hired downhill skis, boots, poles, paid 2 euros extra for helmets, and set off for three hours on the pistes. The last time I skied was, I believe, in the late nineties, and things have changed somewhat. First, skis have shrunk about a foot, but gained about a stone. I don't know what they're made of these days, but I think it is probably uranium. (This is very heavy. I just looked it up on Wikipedia.) Boots are more comfortable than they were although I still have a panic that they won't do up around my calves. I also still fear T-bars after an incident which resulted in a cauliflower ear when I was approx. 11 and involved my parents laughing hysterically and insisting I pull my hair back off my face so they could photograph me like some sort of circus freak, ignoring the fact that IT REALLY HURT. But anyway. Basically, skiing is still the same: very fun, quite cold and slightly risky with a fair bit of adrenaline. It is way, way easier, cardiovascularly, than cross country skiing. We started out on the basic slopes but my map reading accidentally led us on to a black run and we both got down without incident. My only fall was, as usual, when I was standing completely still on a very flat surface. I recovered myself, turned my skis the right way and tried to get up. Panic set in as I realised I couldn't. I still don't quite understand what happened, but I think it is lack of upper body strength. I managed to lift my abdomen about a foot off the ground and then had to extend a pole and ask Grania to pull me through the offending middle section. Eventually I righted myself and we set off again. If she hadn't have been there I would have had to take my skis off, stand up and put them back on again. Unexpected result of ageing?

Skiing in Finland is great - the pistes are pretty much empty, the lifts have no queues and there is a good mix of runs. There isn't enough in Levi to keep you occupied for a week, but for a long weekend I wouldn't hesitate to recommend it. That said, after 2.5 hours we were cold and tired, almost certainly the cumulative effect of our active morning and punchy afternoon, so we ditched our hired gear and jumped in a taxi for the short ride back to HQ and a sauna/freezing cold plunge pool/sauna extravaganza followed by dinner with the team where we were asked whether we'd ever seen Diana or Charles in a pub in London. Now we have a possible film or reading window and then sleep. Fractionally less hilarity today, and I've probably eaten as many calories as I've burned off (she says, stuffing the core of a Terry's Chocolate Orange in her mouth, one of many treats she brought for the dual enjoyment of herself and Grania this week, only to find out on arrival in Finland that Grania has given up chocolate for Lent), but it's been excellent. Hope all is well en Angleterre and with the rest of the Faithful, wherever you may be. Hey hey.