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I don’t like the cold and, having passed the half century mark, fear broken bones, but the offer is tempting. Someone has backed out of a short skiing holiday in the French Alps and I’ve been asked to take their place. ‘You don’t have to ski,’ I’m told. ‘The chalets are five-star with jacuzzis on the terrace and a gourmet cook every evening.’ I can take a moonlit husky sleigh-ride, a helicopter over Mont Blanc, enjoy the nightlife in Chamonix.

I’m already thinking what warm clothes to pack. A ski shop has opened in the local shopping centre and there’s a sale on. In the mirror I see someone in an orange ski suit and surprise myself. I actually look as if I can ski.

Gloves, hat, sunglasses and a couple of changes of clothes in my suitcase, and I’m ready for my long weekend. On the two-hour flight to Geneva, among enthusiasts who have checked in a startling amount of equipment, I feel out of my depth. I have told my companions I have never skied before and cannot see the attraction - all that queuing for ski lifts, falling in snow and struggling to stand up again. The fact is I did try it once, a couple of decades ago just to prove myself wrong. But I proved myself right – I did hate it. I felt out of control, humiliated and panicky.

On day two of the holiday I am trying to squeeze my foot into a metal encasement with serrated iron straps. It looks like an instrument of torture. I walk round the ski hire shop like a robot. ‘Is it me who makes you afraid or the equipment?’ asks the handsome male assistant. ‘I shouldn’t really be here,’ I want to tell him, but force a smile instead.

We are staying in Chalets Philippe, overlooked by Mont Blanc - a stage set for a magical winter wonderland adventure. The sun is bright, the air fresh and the snow inviting. I have decided to give skiing another go. The owner, Philippe Courtines, has worked as a film and theatre producer in Cannes and Paris. Now, his creativity is channelled into these chalets, which he has renovated and filled with antique furniture from the region. Philippe fell in love with the site when he first set foot here in 1983. He went straight to the estate agent to put down a deposit without even looking inside the chalets. ‘It was a coup de coeur,’ he tells me, love at first sight.

There are now seven chalets in the hamlet, some of which Philippe had moved here from outlying villages. They are filled with antique rustic furniture, creating a real ‘montagnard’ atmosphere. Additional touches – the jacuzzis, a private cinema and a steam room - would have amazed the original occupants. Beauty treatments can also be booked.

A concierge company, Pollen Brooks Leisure, arranges an assortment of adrenalin inducing activities. They have organised a private ski lesson for me and I am taken to the nursery slopes. I go through the snow-plough motions following my instructor Emily, a member of the French national team. We come across her mother, a fomer French ski champion, who is also teaching. I don’t fall over once. After a congenial lunch, I head back, overconfident, and fall twice. The snow is icier in the afternoon, I’m told, which makes me feel a bit better. On my last run down, Emily advises me to make the most of it – ‘listen to the silence behind the swish of the skis and the jangle of the chair lift. Look up, enjoy the mountains.’ A feeling of peace and well-being comes over me and I begin to ‘get’ skiing.

The husky sleighing is cancelled because conditions are dangerous and Dean Pollen arranges a surprise alternative. We are driven high into the mountains where we climb into a six-wheel drive army-type truck and head even higher. There, waiting for us are jet skis for snow, or skidoos. We skidoo to an isolated chalet where we warm up with mulled wine. The next surprise is a helicopter ride back to Chamonix. We hit the ground as our helicopter lands beside us, scattering snow in all directions. Once aboard, the views of the Mont Blanc massif wipe out any fear.

Back at the main chalet, we gather round the roaring fire sipping Burgundy and reliving the day, while our chef prepares a seven-course dinner. That night, I dream of skiing.

Facts
Prices per week start at £300 pp for two people sharing a small chalet. Larger chalets cost from £800 pp. A VIP service is available at £1,400 pp.

Excursion options include: The Italian Job – leave Chamonix early evening for Italy and the resort of Courmayeur. Take a skidoo up to a mountain restaurant and return to the chalet on skis by torchlight. €174.

James Bond night – Skidoo to a French farmhouse restaurant, not reachable by road. Sledge back by the light of head torches. €156.

For reservations phone 00 44 1344 849 135 or 00 33 607231726 www.pollenbrooks.com, www.chaletsphilippe.com

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