This article was produced by National Geographic Traveller (UK).

It’s not that I’m ungrateful, but did my good Samaritan have to be the man dressed as a banana?

“Try leaning forward more,” he advises through the face-hole, extending a hand and dragging me upright from the snow before continuing on his way. Kitty and Matty look on with undisguised pleasure; my 10-year-old twins are new to this but, as it’s my third time, they think I should be borderline professional. No matter that I was a carefree, indestructible youth when I last went skiing. Or that I’m now a very destructible, 50-year-old father.

My return to the slopes comes after a 35-year hiatus, with the stiffer sinews of middle age and a gammy right knee. Determined my creaking body shouldn’t deny my children a taste

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