THESE days, there’s no end of opportunities to get in touch with your inner self — everything from life coaching to corporate development, not to mention the odd session on a yoga mat, is designed to create a Zen-like state of greater emotional certainty.
So it was only a matter of time before zen skiing arrived, courtesy of Ian Prosser, a specialist in corporate management, who applies techniques introduced in the 1980s to tennis, golf and the boardroom to the ski slope.
“Self A has natural abilities that self B sabotages by providing the kind of running commentary that limits performance,” he told me. “When kids want to ski, they get out there and do it, whereas adults desperately want to get it right, but without making fools of themselves. I try to counteract that by encouraging them to play on the slopes, to ski like kids.”
Given that I’m skied off the mountain by armies of tiny tots on a daily basis, I have no problem relating to that. But would people who are afraid of looking foolish agree to spread over the slope in a self-renewing human slalom (the top person weaves down to take his new place at the end of the line) or sing at full volume while synchronising their turns? These are the kind of techniques that Prosser uses to distract self B so that self A can get on with the job. “Inner skiing is non-judgmental,” he explained. “There is no such thing as a bad turn. Whatever works for you is fine by me.”
Back on the slopes, we played his inner games. “Ski on one leg,” Ian’s partner, Paula, told me. “No chance,” snarled my right knee, twitching in its brace before I even moved. “Shut up, self B,” I snapped, though self A seemed to have doubts as well, and I would certainly feel foolish if I ended up in A & E. But I didn't. Surprisingly, it was easy to ski down the mountain on one leg, either leg. But was it valuable? Later I checked this point with more conventional experts. Very, if you want to carve turns properly.
At the end of the day, we returned to Ferme de Montagne, a luxury ski-in, ski-out chalet owned by Henry Dixon-Hudson and his Australian wife, Suzanne, on the slopes above Les Gets, an authentically French outpost on the vast Portes du Soleil circuit. Debriefing involved tea around the log fire in the library or champagne in the outdoor hot tub, followed by a massage or a curative soak in a bath scented with Suzanne's locally plucked herbal bath salts.
Six years ago, Ferme de Montagne, known as La Grange Heureuse when it was last in use as a disco in the 1980s, was empty apart from discarded stacks of vinyl. Dixon-Hudson, an architect with a finely tuned sense of the regional vernacular, has recreated it as a lovely Savoyard farmhouse, albeit one with stone floors from a château in Burgundy and faux Victorian radiators made in distant Lille.
From the moment you arrive, you are cocooned in comfort. Two young French chefs, trained in Alain Ducasse's lofty domain, produce magnificent gourmet meals, while staff from France, Australia and Britain provide impeccable service. Don't insist on carrying your suitcase: it could cost someone their job.
Over breakfast — it can be soft-boiled eggs with soldiers — the group discussed the new day's desires. Prosser estimates that 70 per cent of his “inner skiing” clients are women, four out of five of them booked in by partners hoping for a more confident skiing companion. Our group reflected this accurately. Welsh-born Tracey felt she was still irrationally fearful after failing on several ski holidays with her husband and children. “I hate being so tense,” she said. “I just want to have some fun.”
Meanwhile, Marianne, an experienced and competent skier limited by her obsession with doing things right, was tormented by the problems that occur when self B gets the upper hand.
“I broke down yesterday,” she explained, “because I wanted to perfect my short turns, but I just couldn't get the feel of it.” Both were given a morning's one-on-one tuition to help them through their crises. Both emerged at lunch looking satisfied with a job well done.
It took Len, a business consultant from Dublin, to show us that men can go the Zen route too. “It occurred to me that I’d like to ski with more style, that I'd like to be able to look down a steep black run and know that I could enjoy it. I’ve taken lots of ski school lessons, but I was as bored with the instructors as they were with me. Ian made it easy. No pressure, no hassle. I knew he would get me down safely and that I’d be in control.”
His friend, a daredevil Ulster judge aged 75, seemed to be enjoying himself immensely, without the need of inner skiing. Should we synchronise to Yellow Submarine? No, he would prefer Beethoven’s Ode to Joy. The big kid took no prisoners as he threw himself joyfully down the mountain, yelling his heart out. Zen? Who needs it?
The rest of us pursued our individual inner paths, each daring as much as our B selves allowed, but we were all smiling at the bottom. Mission accomplished, one way or another.
NEED TO KNOW
Getting there: Minty Clinch travelled to France with P&O Ferries (0870 6000612, www.poferries.com), which has nine-day returns from Dover to Calais for a car and two passengers in March from £80. EasyJet (www.easyjet.com) has flights to Geneva from £43 return.
Staying there: Ferme de Montagne (00 33 4 50 75 36 79, www.fermedemontagne.com) is open until April 23. It will run an Inner Skiing Course from April 8-12 for £995p, including tuition, four nights' full board and transfers from Geneva. Flights cost extra. A further course may run in mid-April if there is sufficient demand. Courses for 2006 are scheduled for January 19-23 and January 26-30, and will cost £1,050pp.
