Today I froze my beard. Solid. It’s a very weird sensation. You can sort of feel the hairs tightening as the ice forms on each hair and they join together.

Winding back the clock, the day had started early as we went to the nearest pub (“47”) to watch the England game. Sod’s Law dictated that this would be the first one worth seeing as we had to miss the last 20 minutes to ensure we caught the bus up to the skipark. Sure enough, 1-1 when we left and I heard it finished 2-2. Gah.

 The bus was only $15 return per person and left from over the road. After 30 minutes or so, we were collecting our passes, boards, boots and separating for classes. Lou’s an utter novice having only been on a board once before – and that was the other week on Mount Dobson with Pam & Rob. I was judged to be in grade 4 (there are 6 grades) so headed up the chairlifts while Lou used the “magic carpet” and slid down the practise slope on her hands and knees for a few hours.

Every other time I’ve been snowboarding, the temperatures have been either t-shirt weather or just around freezing. Today, at the top of Coronet’s Express Way, the wind chill and stirred powder must have dropped it to around -10 degrees Celcius. Visibility at times was more something I’d heard about and experienced in the past than something I was actually enjoying.

 The last run of the day especially was utterly new for me. I couldn’t even see the snow I was boarding on at times. The whole world was one big optical illusion. I could sort of feel my board moving, and I could hear it, but nothing seemed to be happening. Then I’d look up and an orange flag was approaching, fairly quickly. Then I’d look down and the “ground” was stationary. Then the flag was closer. At other times I’d catch a quick glance of the surface and I was moving sideways compared to how I felt I was going.

It made my head hurt. Or maybe that was falling backwards and cracking my skull on an icy run earlier.

 All in all, a great day. Even the lunch wasn’t expensive – another new experience for a ski resort. Everyone was really friendly.

Except.

The skier who ploughed into Lou and clobbered her knee. It’s got a nasty gouge in it, and it’s a rather bright red colour. Of course, typical skiier, no apology. She just sorted herself out and buggered off. This is the difference between skiiers and boarders. Boarders do stupid things, but if they hurt someone they bloody apologise. Also, if someone’s a skiier there’s more chance of them being French which is another reason to treat them with disdain.

But I digress.

We got back at a nice hour, nodding off on the coach, and ate far too much food and necked mulled wine I got from the supermarket. A spa bath and sauna to soothe aching muscles (and knee), and then some more beer in front of the telly.

More tomorrow. Yay! 

 Rob comandeered the car keys from me (some excuse about “knowing the way” or something) and we loaded it up. Rucksacks. Chocolate. Coats. Shirts. Jumpers. More jumpers. Helmets. Snowboards.

Mount Dobson had opened its skifields a week earlier than normal as there’d been some snowfall and we decided to make the most of it. The fun thing was, I was the only one of the four of us ever to have been snowboarding before. Pam & Rob had invested in all the kit, but got to New Zealand in September so hadn’t actually seen useable snow as yet. Instead they’d been wasting their time surfing in the sunshine.

Pah.

The drive wasn’t a short one – around 2 1/2 hours – but we did end up finding the people we were to be boarding with somewhere on the highway. Not difficult given that it’s almost all single carriageway and even on a journey that size there’s only one route to take. The skifield itself is up some very windy roads once the highway ends (no crash barriers, naturally) and the car park was icy to say the least. Despite setting off at 7am, the overflow car park was in use by the time we go there.

 Giles, one of Rob’s colleagues, very kindly loaned me waterproof trousers, gloves and a jacket. Everyone else unpacked their kit as Lou and I headed to the hire shop. Two pairs of boots, two boards, one pair of trousers and a pair of wristguards later we plodged up the short slope to the nursery slope. (Note: the person on your right there is Pam, not Lou. I was asked to clear that up!)

Now I know I said I’d been before. But please bear in mind that the last time was January last year. And the first (and only other) time was 2 Januaries before that. So this was only my third time on a board.

Excuses out of the way, I was very pleased how quickly it all came back. Giles zoomed off up the tall slopes, giggling like a schoolchild who’s been waiting 9 months for this (which in truth he had), while his wife, Mel, pushed their two daughters around on their boards. The two little girls were used as an excuse by Pam, Rob and Lou to take quick breaks from landing on their backsides as well. OK, I admit it. Me too! As with Andorra the first time, though, I rapidly found myself boarding in a t-shirt as it was far too warm to wear a jacket.

 Rob seemed to pick things up fairly quickly, Pam mastered the art of falling over face first and Louise managed to… erm… stand up a few times.

The important thing is that everyone had fun, including the two little girls who didn’t even sulk all that much when told that it was time to go home. In fact, I think I sulked more than anyone else. One last zoom down the slightly larger slope (probably only a blue), zipping past rocks poking out of the snow and we went to hand all the kit in.

Needless to say, we were somewhat thirsty and hungry by the time we left, so we stopped at a small café not far from the foot of the mountain. Hot chocolate all round except for muggins here who e-numbered himself up to the eyeballs with three huge lumps of ice cream (lime swirl, orange choc chip and boysenberry if you’re asking). And I manage to drip exactly none on the car seats.

 By the time we reached Christchurch it was dinner time. So we went to Hell. That’s a pizza chain – I believe they’re opening a branch in London soon. As well as letting you design your own (bland) pizzas, they do two utterly gorgeous dessert ones. Rob and I shared an apple/cinammon/berry crumble type one and I can vouch for their deliciousness. They also make a cracking breakfast.

Shortly after we got back, Lou checked her phone and we had one message. Megan Silva, born at 17:31 in Auckland to proud parents Indaka and Lisa. Congratulations to them both! Megan was one week and 5 days past her drop-by date and apparently well worth the wait!

Again, though, an early night was needed as Rob was driving us to the airport on the way to work in the morning. Cue mass panic as we realised that packing the night before was a good idea.