Handful of fun at remarkables

Handful of fun at remarkables

CRUNCH! CRACKLE! SNAP! PATA! PATA! I heard the car roaring like a lion outside, rolling heavily but joyfully, pacing slowly like a jolly steam roller  on the soggy, slippery, and icy gravel. But also all the activity around me. I cautiously got down from the skyscraper-like three story bunk bed. As I got down, I heard my dad come down the stairs at the front door. Thump! Thump! His boots sounded like an enraged gorilla.

Me and my family were in Queenstown for our  action packed day for a fun skiing holiday some time during winter last year.

Everyone was a fully charged battery ready to explode, up at 8:00am. After some delicious and scrumptious, breakfast we slowly got our big, chunky, cosy ski clothes on. Then Gus and I heaved the skis up to dad to put them in the roof box, which was as black as the night sky. As I looked over my shoulder I squinted at the sun slowly rising with pride from behind the hills, it’s reflection on the lake making it look like something from a movie scene.

As we drove up the Remarkables’ long winding road, which, with one look down, can make you sick, I thought to myself will it be similar to other ski fields? Can it bring something to challenge me like stuffing eight dumplings in my face without spitting them out? It felt like the sickening minutes had turned to days, the drive was so long - almost like we were stuck in time. The car was freezing cold. It was a fridge in there! We were all human popsicles!

We got up the mountain. A fresh blanket of white fluffy snow stood in front of me. The wispy wind felt blistering cold, like a blizzard had struck in a full rage. We all put on our thick heavy ski boots and walked over to put on our skis. My skis were a pitch black and green merging into each other.     

After I had my skis on I skidded and heaved myself over to my ski coach and had my ski lesson. My coach was from the Netherlands, and his name was Eric. He taught me how to do 360s, 180s, and ski backwards at at least 20 km per hour. During my lesson I was like a rocket streaking to it’s target and nearly reached speeds of 40 km per hour!

Exhausted and puffed I sat down with a nice warm hot cuppa in my hand at the cafe. Great fun skiing I thought, as looked out on the remarkable view of  the Remarkables.

“So that’s how it gets its name,” I said with my family all around me. “Exactly,” said my mum.