Buone Vacanze!

I'm quite excited about my forthcoming ski trip. I go to the Italian resort of Cervinia on Sunday, and it can't come soon enough. The wonderful thing about skiing is that all the normal daily stresses, preoccupations, worries and fears simply disappear when you get to the slopes. The head is immediately emptied of all the everyday scattered detritus that usually fills it to the rafters, and you are released from all anxiety; liberated from the shackles of domestic living by the wide-open spaces and the awe-inspiring (and frankly humbling) views. Skiing is immensely physical and the only thing that matters is keeping the body strong – the mind then looks after itself. I've been training like a lunatic in the gym in recent weeks, in an attempt to strengthen my thighs and knees, so now I am ready for anything. This year, I aim to go faster than ever before. I have my own skis and boots – the boots help a great deal because rented ones are usually ill-fitting and always hurt. A couple of years ago I spent about two hours in a fabulous little shop in Tignes having my boots re-moulded so that they fitted my feet exactly. Being comfortable is just as important as being safe.

Right then, I must get on with my 'to do' list because I have millions of things to clear up before I go away. This is all about de-cluttering my mind in advance, so that when I do hit the slopes, the mountain vista has its job already half done. The Pecha Kucha thing the other night went okay – I made a suitable fool of myself, of course – and within the confines of the elegant and ornate oak-panelled dining room of Nottingham's City Hall (known locally as the Council House – see picture left), there were some really good presentations. Most of the people took themselves a tad too seriously perhaps, whereas I just camped the whole thing up and made people laugh. I learned this trick years ago – as a youngster, growing up in the backstreets of Naples, I was terrified of being laughed at; it was real paranoia, and I was unbelievably shy and nervous and always worried that people were laughing at me behind my back. So one day, I decided to make bloody well sure that people laughed at me – thereby removing any doubt and so consequently removing the paranoia – and I've been acting the goat ever since.

At the Pecha Kucha event, my lovely friend James Parker did a presentation that included some magic (not such a random idea, by the way – he is a magician). He was talking about the collaboration between magic, creativity, politics and ethics and his speech was both lively and interesting, but the climax was a sort of visual analogy towards what we all desire, which is 'Peace', and he produced a pure white dove as if from nowhere. The audience were amazed and enthralled by this, but it created a practical problem – what to do with the dove after the event? We were all planning to retire to a local cocktail lounge for extended drinking (such a rare event of course), and the dove could hardly accompany us. So James asked if he could leave it in my apartment. It's still here, and I've been chatting away to it because I feel it might be lonely. I've been trying to trick it into telling me how the aforesaid magic trick is achieved, but I think that it too must be a member of the Magic Circle and it has remained tight-lipped throughout my gentle interrogation. Doves are presumably very discreet birds, which I suppose is why magicians use them, and do not use parrots. Parrots are right gossips, so they are, and would blab all the trade secrets for the price of a sunflower seed, I'm sure.

Well, dear reader, there will now be a short hiatus in my ramblings to you. I won't have the time or inclination to blog while I'm away (only a week), and internet access is limited in the Alps anyway. Instead, you can log in here to find the occasional update – I won't be rambling away with the usual nonsense, but I will be sending you occasional messages and titbits of news from the resort. If by any chance I go silent and you don't see any postings from me, it will mean that I am lost in the snow so you must then despatch a large St Bernard dog, complete with obligatory cask of brandy around its neck. Thank you, gentle reader.

Arrivederci! Torno presto; faccio subito!