Randomly acting I learnt ski this last week. My last and only experience in ski was a week (or two) in la Masella/Molina, two stations close to Barcelona, Spain. The only thing I remembered from that traumatic experience was that a) I had many amatomas after the ski ; b) the way they tell you (and teach you) to brake does not work (is called cuña in Spanish). So with some other people, very good skiers all of them, a bit of help from a teacher called Stefano (or Luigi, I can't remember) that taught me how to do the spazza neve (the same cuña than before) I had an awful first day of ski.

But, and this is something quite strange given my genetic ability to everything that requires any sort of equilibrium, the second day I was going down the slopes trying to brake and from time to time steer and obviously more often than wished, checking if the snow was cold enough.

Day three came and we were going down a slope called Gigante - a red trail - that was beyond my skills but that helped me pushing the boundaries of my alter ego and suddenly transform in Doctor Ski. The skiies became prolongations of my legs, the sticks were my titanium adapters and the boots were lighter than the air. Doctor Ski had suddlenly appeared from my inner me and was there to stay forever.

With Doctor Ski commanding my entire body we went to, in the foggiest day ever, the other side of the mountain. With my genetically modified vision, I could see where others could not, I could hear the snow talking to me, I could sing at the same time than descending (if you wonder it was the amatoma song) and most importantly I was having fun in the snow.

Day five came, trail 21 went. Tallest starting point in the entire station and again beyond Doctor Ski's skills I managed to go through it. After that, 13, 14 and 16 came (several times) as well as Internazionale (18),

Day six and the challenges ahead were to complete the remaining trails, including 20, 22, 19 and 17 and the evil border cross - costalazo que me pegue. But once again Doctor Ski had taken ownership of my actions and speeded through all the obstacles.

Your dearest, Doctor Ski.