I love Alissa Warren, really I do.
I respect her as a fellow Mamamia writer and as a woman. I do not, however, respect her family holiday choices. I am judging her.
Because her children’s exposure to snowy experience will be limited to that frosty Disney mega-phenomenon of which we do not speak. They will be missing out, because Alissa does not like the cold. Suck it up and put on a spencer, sista.
In my not so humble opinion, snow holidays rock.
Mamamia’s Holly Wainwright talks about how she took nits on holiday with her. (Post continues after audio.)
1. Snow gives you stories.
At the end of the day, there’s conversation fodder for around the table. Who moved from beginner to intermediate? Who stacked it on a lift? Who had the hottest instructor? I love beach holidays, but there are only so many tales you can tell about sandcastles and bluebottle stings.
2. Skiing is exercise, but fun.
Importantly, it gives you permission to eat massive meals, washed down by vats of hot chocolate and/or red wine on a daily basis.
3. Snow holidays are romantic.
Wham! didn’t film their ‘Last Christmas’ video at Coogee did they? No, they didn’t. George and that white-anting whatsisname headed for a chalet in Switzerland because snow is more romantic than sand. Probably because when you’re frolicking in snow, you’re generally clothed in more than a single layer of lycra, so there’s less chance of natural elements becoming trapped in your crevices.
Kate and her husband being romantic – like Wham!
Granted, if you’re not an elegant, loose-limbed skier, such as myself*, the actual skiing part mightn’t be THAT romantic. Neither is the long underwear part, or the screaming at the kids about the lost gloves part … but AFTER all that, there are log fires, cable-knit jumpers and Baileys. I live in Queensland. Generally, there’s not a lot of cable-knit in my world.
4. Ski School.
These words are key for parents. Last week we went to Queenstown with my sister in law and her family – a party of four adults and five kids. At 10am most days, those kids ceased being our responsibility and were under the capable care of Candace, from Colorado, who called them ‘Dude’ and told them every two seconds how AWESOME they are. I don’t know that my kids do, in fact, inspire awe, but what the hell? The kids had fallen under Candace from Colorado’s spell. Apparently they didn’t whinge, ask for snacks or bicker with each other.