As my brother said, 'What could possibly go wrong?'.
But... joy does tend to come before a fall.
It didn't hurt too much to start with, although I felt a twang in my foot. But it completely buggered my confidence, to the extent that I snowplowed (the shame!) all the way down, the pain increasing as I descended. When I found myself at the top of a very steep black run, I just sat down, took my skis off and wept. Then a beautiful boarder girl asked me if I was OK (it's always women who stop to help). She was Dutch, her name was Tina, she was on holiday with her banker buddies from Canary Wharf, and she was completely lovely. Tina, if you ever read this - THANK YOU.
By the time we made it to the bar, my foot was hurting so much that I couldn't put any weight on it.
Sooo... the following day, the Swiss doctors were brilliant. Torn ligament in my foot - fairly simple, one might imagine. But no. They kept doing X-rays. So many X-rays that I was starting to wonder if I'd done really bad damage to my foot.
But they kept laughing. And then it transpired that the X-ray had revealed a needle - a sewing needle (you can make out the eye) embedded quite closely against my fourth metatarsal.
I mean - really? WTF? How could I not have noticed stepping on a needle - however many years ago it happened? The doctors are still none the wiser.