Gstaad, Switzerland, 1930s

I learned how to ski in Gstaad when I was a child. The instruction consisting primarily of strapping some skis on, being told to bend my knees, and being pushed down a steep hill (not a steep ravine but definitely not a beginner or “bunny” hill). I was in sheer terror the whole time. But since I didn’t fall till the bottom of the hill (no one told me how to stop) I was brought back up the hill and made to do it again. And again. And each time I was in terror.