Quand te reverrai-je, pays merveilleux ?

I sometimes wonder if life is sending me signs. Like "if you keep trying to practise winter sports, something really bad is going to happen." Or maybe it's just "you're very clumsy Cécile. Try not to be a danger for the people surrounding you."

Let me explain. About a year ago, on November 14th, 2007, to be accurate, I went ice skating with some friends of mine in Vienna. I had only been ice skating once in my life before that, and that was when I was a child. But I thought it would be fun to try again. For those of you who were with me on that faithful day, or for those who have been following my old French blog, you already know all the details of this story. For the others, I will sum it up very quickly: I went ice skating with my friends and the day ended in a hospital. I didn't need any stitches but got the opportunity to wear an oh-so-sexy bandage on my head and to have an unforgettable ambulance ride with my friend Kirsty.

Since then, "let's go ice skating" has become a joke for my friends. But more seriously, no one has dared inviting me to do any potentially dangerous winter sport. Until last week.

Let's start with the beginning. As many of the new year's eve parties I've had in my life were rather disappointing, or even bad, and the last one having been a complete disaster, I decided that New Year's eve 2009 would be awesome. So I've been planning it for months. And the destination has changed about a dozen times (from Vienna to Dublin through Paris, Strasbourg and the Vosges mountains.) And as always when you try your best to plan something, you end up doing something completely un-planned. So on December 29th, in the evening, my cousin JC and I decided to drive to Les Ménuires the next day, to join some friends of mine who got a free apartment there to celebrate the new year.

On December 31st, 5 of us went for our first ski trip. I was very excited, until I was actually standing on my skis and remembered that I hate things that go fast. But I had no choice but to go down that slope, so there I went. And less than 5 minutes after I started (I swear!), I felt something hitting me from behind, fell on the snow and heard someone screaming to death. I took off my skis, turned around and saw a screaming shape on the snow and a little girl going "are you ok madam? Here's your hat madam" and trying to calm down the screaming creature on the snow. Then a woman arrived and talked towards the source of the screams, then men in red arrived and asked a lot of questions, and I was just standing there, wondering what the hell happened and what am I supposed to do now - should I stay here or should I just leave and try to join my friends who seem to be waiting for me a bit further down? After a few minutes of questioning, the men in red told me I had to stay there. Ok. Hm. The thing is still screaming. Where's the "off" switch?

The woman explained that she was the aunt of the screaming thing, oh and by the way, the creature under the huge ski suit and the helmet was a little girl named Gala. JC had come to join me in the meantime. A safeguard finally arrived, put a sort of temporary splint on the girl's shoulder and laid her down in a sleigh. He explained that I might have to testify about the accident, even though I didn't have any responsibility for it. Then he went off, telling JC and me "I'll meet you at the medical center!".

Sure. No problem, bro! I've been skiing for exactly five minutes and you expect me to be able to go down that long and steep slope to meet you at the medical center. As I didn't really have a choice then, I started going down. But it was really steep and with my five minutes' experience of skiing, I just couldn't make it. I considered the possibilities. I tried taking off my skis and walking down the slope. If you ever want to walk down a ski slope wearing your ski boots, I can tell you now: forget it. So, back on the skis.

I wondered if I could fake an accident and hope for another lifeguard to take me down the slope with a sleigh. But before I could put my plan into practice, JC (who had been off on his snowboard until he realised I wasn't following him) came back up and tried to think about a solution. Remember this: I was on skis (snow blades to be perfectly accurate) and he was on a snowboard. So we couldn't possibly do the old thing of one holding the other between his legs. The first thing we tried was me carrying JC's backpack and my skis, holding myself on JC's back, both of us standing on the snowboard. I said we tried. But we didn't even manage to get up.

Then JC got another brilliant idea. He attached the backpack and the skis to the snowboard and said we would use the board as a sleigh. And so we sat together on the snowboard, like two little kids. It was fun - for the first two seconds. Because, you see, there is a reason why people usually don't go sleighing with snowboards. And this is because you get massive amounts of snow right on your face. I didn't dare to complain, so I pretended I was alright until we first crashed. I turned around to reveal my snowy face to JC, who said "Ok, I go in front. You hold yourself tight, and when I bend, you bend." Fair enough. And that's how we went down that slope, in the middle of the crowd of skiers. So if anyone of you was in Les Ménuires this winter and saw a man in a dark green suit and a girl with a bright orange suit zigzaging down a ski slope sitting on a snowboard, that was us. We're sorry, it was a matter of emergency. Actually we're not sorry. It was fun!

What wasn't so much fun was when I spent the rest of the afternoon in the medical center, waiting for the crying girl to be examined so I could sign this damn paper. After a long time they finally said she had a broken collarbone. Some more time passed and the aunt called me so we could go to that place to sign that paper. We did, and there they kindly told us that my testimony wasn't necessary, and I was free to go. By this time, the ski slopes were closed. There go my 30 euro ski pass and my 15 euro ski rental.

I'm not completely heartless - I do feel a bit sorry for Gala. She spent new year's eve suffering from a broken collarbone while I was eating a delicious raclette with my friends, it's sad.

The next day, I went skiing again, but this time JC had the time to teach me and I managed to get down the slope without any incident. JC, however, fell really sick and spent the rest of the day in bed. I expressed all my gratitude by running to the deli 5 minutes before it closed, buying some carrots and cooking them for him, hoping it would heal his sickness.

Call me superstitious, but these are a lot of incidents. Are these coincidences or am I really cursed? I will always have a little apprehension before practising any winter sport.