I ache. Every part of me is rebelling. After a week's torture on the ski slopes of sunny Sauze d'Oulx, my body is in need of overhaul. On the other hand my thighs are now like tree trunks. Unfortunately they feel like they're suffering from Dutch Elm Disease and might need felling. But oh what a glorious tiredness, what a refreshing exhaustion. Thing is, skiing is just so totally and utterly different to my everyday life. It is to most people's, unless you're a ...

I was gently and quietly swaying my way up one of the Sauze d'Oulx chairlifts today, the gorgeous snow sliding beneath me, pitted with lost poles, gloves, ski maps, and, almost certainly, mobile phones already sunk and out of sight. It got me thinking, since I was on my own on this particular lift, what a great scene it would make in a spy movie, if I were the bad guy, and my target was in the chair behind me. I could just turn around, twist the secret ring on m...

As Catherine and I clattered and thumped our way into our apartment building yesterday, lugging skis and snowboard and wearing boots of lead, we looked forward to collapsing in our rooms. We reached the tiny lift, only to hear a stream of rapid Italian directed at us from the dim reaches of the farthest end of the corridor. 'Spaghetti bambino di taverna o solo mio!', a middle-aged woman with an air of authority, said. Or words to that effect. She came towards us...

Mountains are humbling. They are silently majestic in morning and evening light, terrifying when they roar into life in a landslide or avalanche, and they throw out a challenge to all who look at them: I am here: what will you do? Well, conquer them for one, ask any mountaineer. Someone has always wanted to be first to climb this peak or that, and plant a symbolic flag on the summit. Personally I am happy to leave all that adventurous stuff to people far more q...

After successfully auditioning yesterday as stunt double for Eddie the Eagle I was somewhat nervous this morning when we returned to the slopes of lovely Sauze d'Oulx. But also heartened to wake to another postcard-perfect day, with the snowy mountains glaringly white in the bright morning sun, with not a breath of wind. Along with the rest of Italy we queued up for the quad chairlift. Someone yesterday had told me that this was likely to be the busiest ski week...