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| My rented snowboard - with hyperactive pop art graphics, natch. |
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| Look, ma! I'm in the gondola by myself! No chaperone! |
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| Mount Yotei as seen from the base of the Mountain Centre in Lower Hirafu |
Yuki was perfect as my first ever snowboarding instructor. She was patient, understanding and sympahetic, methodical and firm. I suppose in all her years of teaching skiing and snowboarding, she has seen every type of student and the wildly varied ways through which they process instruction. She knew better than I did what I was and was not capable of, and so she pushed me to "Get up! Try one more time!" amidst my moans that my legs couldn't possibly take any more.
It was the most punishing two hours of my life, made even more painful by the sight of toddlers (!!!) skiing down the slope as though it was nobody's business.
"They're young," Yuki explained helpfully. "They don't feel the pull of gravity as much as we do."
It was a mildly comforting thought, sure, but I still felt like screaming at the kids, "Go home and play with your toys!" whenever one would whiz past me. Seriously, some of those kids couldn't have been older than two years old. Their confident "I-was-born-to-be-a-snow-bunny" presence at the slopes caused me great embarrassment, agony and regret. What the fuck was I thinking, coming to Niseko with the grand assumption that I'd easily master the snowboard at the ripe old age of 30?
But Yuki persevered and, by the end of my lesson with her, I at least learned the parts of a snowboard, how to actually get myself on it, and how to board down the slope using my toe-side edge. This meant that I could only snowboard backwards. Hey, it was just my first day and I was determined to celebrate every victory, no matter how tiny!
I learned how to fall, too, which was really helpful seeing that I probably took a tumble 10,000 times.
I would have learned zilch if I got the dreamboat instructor I had always fantasized about. I would have been too busy getting infatuated.
The most memorable moment of my first day on the slopes was when Yuki decided I was equipped enough to finally get up on a chair lift towards the lowest rise of Niseko Grand Hirafu.
I have never seen anything so... white before! Powder snow everywhere I looked, as far as my eyes can see! Of course I was scared shitless that I'd fall from the chair lift, what with a heavy snowbard dangling from my left foot. But the experience was so exhilarating, so magical. In front of me was Mount Niseko Annapuri. Behind me was Mount Yotei. Underneath me was nothing but fluffy snow. (And the annoyingly confident babies-on-skis.)
"This is all so exotic to me," I would later tell Chris. I grew up in a landlocked part of Northern Luzon, surrounded only by verdant fields of rice, corn, sugarcane, tobacco, and sometimes, cannabis. "I never thought I'd get to see and do all these."
"I'm putting together a Philippine snowboarding team," I declared over a heavy lunch of curry pork cutlet, rice and Sapporo beer. "I will be the team captain. And we would only ever snowboard backwards. YES WE CAN!"
It was the most punishing two hours of my life, made even more painful by the sight of toddlers (!!!) skiing down the slope as though it was nobody's business.
"They're young," Yuki explained helpfully. "They don't feel the pull of gravity as much as we do."
It was a mildly comforting thought, sure, but I still felt like screaming at the kids, "Go home and play with your toys!" whenever one would whiz past me. Seriously, some of those kids couldn't have been older than two years old. Their confident "I-was-born-to-be-a-snow-bunny" presence at the slopes caused me great embarrassment, agony and regret. What the fuck was I thinking, coming to Niseko with the grand assumption that I'd easily master the snowboard at the ripe old age of 30?
But Yuki persevered and, by the end of my lesson with her, I at least learned the parts of a snowboard, how to actually get myself on it, and how to board down the slope using my toe-side edge. This meant that I could only snowboard backwards. Hey, it was just my first day and I was determined to celebrate every victory, no matter how tiny!
I learned how to fall, too, which was really helpful seeing that I probably took a tumble 10,000 times.
I would have learned zilch if I got the dreamboat instructor I had always fantasized about. I would have been too busy getting infatuated.
The most memorable moment of my first day on the slopes was when Yuki decided I was equipped enough to finally get up on a chair lift towards the lowest rise of Niseko Grand Hirafu.
I have never seen anything so... white before! Powder snow everywhere I looked, as far as my eyes can see! Of course I was scared shitless that I'd fall from the chair lift, what with a heavy snowbard dangling from my left foot. But the experience was so exhilarating, so magical. In front of me was Mount Niseko Annapuri. Behind me was Mount Yotei. Underneath me was nothing but fluffy snow. (And the annoyingly confident babies-on-skis.)
"This is all so exotic to me," I would later tell Chris. I grew up in a landlocked part of Northern Luzon, surrounded only by verdant fields of rice, corn, sugarcane, tobacco, and sometimes, cannabis. "I never thought I'd get to see and do all these."
"I'm putting together a Philippine snowboarding team," I declared over a heavy lunch of curry pork cutlet, rice and Sapporo beer. "I will be the team captain. And we would only ever snowboard backwards. YES WE CAN!"
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| That big steel post in the background is memorable 'coz I I crashed into it several times. It was a mind thing. When I finally managed to dodge the post after 278 runs down the slope, I just had to take a photo. |
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| James was here. |
// HYPERACTIVE IN HIRAFU //
