I went on a motorhome ski holiday – the campsites are a bargain and they even have saunas

AN icy breeze greets me as I open the motorhome door to see a horizon of snow-capped peaks as the morning sunshine floods down the valley.

It’s not your typical view from a recreational vehicle, but then this isn’t your usual motorhome trip.

SuppliedI took my family skiing from a motorhome[/caption]

SuppliedWe took to the powdery slopes, 2,000m above sea-level[/caption]

Along with my wife Kim and kids Harrison, eight, and Dorothy, five, we have come to the Alta Badia region of the Italian Dolomites in our Bailey motorhome for a skiing holiday.

The fact none of us has skied before is a minor detail. With a vehicle equipped for winter conditions that could reach -20C, we adopted the attitude of, “We’ll worry about that when we get there”.

After a seamless journey to the chocolate box mountain village of San Cassiano — our Channel crossing and campsites along the way were all conveniently booked through the Caravan and Motorhome Club — the time had now come to begin the worrying part. Well, almost.

Our campsite, the wonderful Sass Dlacia, is not only the highest campsite in the Dolomites, it has its own nature wellness centre complete with Turkish baths and various sauna rooms.

So there’s still time for a little relaxation before our baptism of fire (and ice) on the nursery slopes.

The hope is that, under the expert tutelage of Toni, a wiry and weathered veteran of 40 seasons on skis, we will somehow develop from novices to mildly competent in three days.

The incentive is the promise of a Michelin-starred lunch, part of the annual Gourmet Ski Safari, where local chefs bring their best dishes 2,000m above sea level.

Not that this seems to be of much interest to Dorothy, who is content lying down and making snow angels, while Harrison takes the notion of a “crash course in skiing” quite literally.

‘So much fun’ I’m hardly faring much better, wobbling like an oversized jelly every time an annoyingly good five-year-old whizzes past me.

To make matters worse, model student Kim is serenely zigzagging her way down the slope as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

At the end of what can only be described as a frustrating first day we are all glad to be heading back to the warmth of the motorhome.

Thanks to Kim’s foresight there is a delicious slow-cooked beef casserole waiting for us.

Getting ourselves and two children dressed and ready for round two of ski school the following morning is a workout in itself.

Toni is all smiles and charm as we waddle over to him like ducklings, reassuring us that today we will begin to see how easy skiing really is. With a renewed determination, and the thought of that gourmet lunch very much at the front of our minds, we set about following his every word.

Kim continues to excel in her advancement and, before long, Harrison is skiing with an ease and confidence that was frankly unimaginable the day before.

My frustration at still not getting the hang of the basics is not helped when, after my latest crash, Harrison stops beside me and reaffirms what Toni had said earlier, that it really is easy, before hurtling off laughing.

On the plus, side by the time we stop for lunch, Dorothy has perfected her snow angels.

I won’t pretend to have the slightest understanding as to how, during the afternoon, I somehow managed to progress from a walking avalanche risk to a basic skier, but I did.

It was at this moment that, to my horror, Toni suggested I try skiing with Dorothy between my legs.

Not to be perturbed by this terrifying development, the two of us set about making countless runs down the beginner slope to get ready for the family-friendly blue slopes.

Kim and Harrison are already halfway down the first blue run of the day by the time Dorothy and I tentatively edge our way closer to the point of no return.

There’s nothing like having the safety of a young child in your control while on skis to sharpen the mind.

My world seemingly slows down as a rush of skiers and snowboarders fly past us.

The next thing I know we are miraculously at the bottom, and what’s more, not on our bottoms.

Spurred on by Dorothy’s repeated cries of, “This is so much fun”, and, “Let’s go faster”, we spend the morning joyously exploring a series of steady slopes set against the backdrop of the stunning Sella massif.

It’s not without a few tumbles or a few impromptu snow angels along the way but, most importantly, we arrive at lunch still smiling and adamant that this will not be the last ski holiday we go on.

SuppliedThe motorhomes are warm and safe[/caption]

ShutterstockThe craggy Dolomites make for some perfect views[/caption]