A Good Slide

There is an expression this side of the roast-potato divide that invites New Year's revellers to have a good slide. I have never entirely understood it and given the current weather and the states of the streets in the city of Zurich the risk of some of us taking it literally rather than figuratively is significantly increased. I assume that it means that we should start the year well, by sliding into it, rather like one might slide along an ice skating rink, full of grace and style and poise.

Before I start to develop visions of myself as some kind of latter day Torvill and Dean, well Dean, as I can't be both Torvill and Dean, then I should note that I did start the new year with a slide. But it was more of a kind of skaty slide, a flailing, fumbling, falling slide as I ran for the number seven tram in morning. My ability to celebrate the New Year in a Swiss style obviously still requires a little practice. After eight years, I am still only a novice.

What I did do, however, was start a new activity. I have never really been one for new years resolutions since epiphany is about as far as I generally get with them. However this year I felt the time was right for me to take on something new, expand my horizons and generally lift myself out of the fur-lined rut.

Having become increasingly alarmed about stories of downhill skiers crashing into obstacles and into each other I decided that I would shun the conventional and take up a less dangerous sport. As options I ruled out horse riding, bungee jumping and sledding and settled instead on cross-country skiing.

There has apparently been an explosion of interest recently in cross country skiing brought on by those who in the course of nordic walking have found that they enjoy the movement of arm swinging and determined striding forward. For those of you unfamiliar with nordic walking, this when a walker uses ski poles to propel themselves along, giving them a sense of rhythm and purpose that is somehow missing in the traditional sport of simply going for a stroll. That you look faintly ridiculous seems by the by.

Cross country skiing uses the same principles. Long poles. Tight lycra. And two rather long skis strapped to you toes. The result is a feeling of schoocing rather skiing, sliding ones way through the countryside on little grooves dug into the snow. Things are fine on the flat – slog slog slog schooch schooch schooch – but uphill starts to get a little tricky. The answer is to either jog – apparently great for the gluts – or step out of the groove and do some nifty duck like herringbone walking. Actually come to think of it, this is presumably why Charlie Chaplin loved Vevey as he was close to the Cross Country courses where his splay footed walking style would come in useful when climbing hills on cross country skis.

All of this is all well and good, the problems arise when heading downhill. My usual downhill style of lean back and enjoy view unfortunately resulted in me coming clear of the grooves and sliding headfirst on my back down the side of a hill ending in a crumpled heap across both lanes of cross country traffic, like a lorry load of lycra and carbon fibre ski poles dumped across the autoroute. Everyone was very patient as I got back up and settled back into the groove. And no one can deny that I started 2009 with a slide.