(Pipe line) Pure as the driven snow.... (Running through my mind) And now I'm having fun, baby....

Holidays are a funny business. Like Christmas, the promise is often more alluring than the reality. This is a short preamble to the deconstruction of a trip away that, with hindsight, seems to have been jinxed from start to finish.

On paper, it showed great promise - a week's skiing in Niseko, powder capital of the world and somewhere I had a fantastic weekend away last year. Although not a skillful skier, I'm certainly enthusiastic, and normally well able to throw myself reasonably safely (if not stylishly) down the slopes. Add in beautiful surroundings, interesting company and a week out of the office - what could go wrong??

Where should I start?

Involving my parents was, with hindsight, a mistake. Whilst their sole role was to mail a parcel (at my expense) to HK (containing all my ski kit) this in the end proved so difficult and stressful (and ultimately pointless) that I really wish I hadn't bothered. My parents can not only create mountains out of molehills, they can create huge, spiky, impassable ranges out of absolutely nothing. Nothing is easy, everything is a "disaster" and oddly enough usually my problem to sort out. Suffice to say, once they had found the boots (one bag) and mailed it (i.e. taken it to the Post Office) - all involving extraordinary amounts of contact with me to check they were doing the right thing - the bag promptly went missing somewhere between Crewe and Stoke. Brilliant. I can only assume that some pikey bastard somewhere in the Midlands is now wondering what to do with a pair of ski boots tailored precisely to my feet, some aging goggles and, I really hope, socks that haven't been washed since my last ski trip.

So, problem one, no kit.

The next hiccup was one more of my own making. HK is not a place that's easy to stay well. Coughs, colds and bugs abound. I have been suffering from a cold for the past month, but, true to my Protestant work ethic, didn't do anything as slack as take time off. Oh no. Struggling on, feeling tired, miserable and contagious was clearly the better option. And, predictably, one that ensured I turned up on holiday and promptly got really ill. So, having travelled for a day, I spent the first 2 days in bed, occasionally struggling out and then really wishing that I hadn't bothered. Wonderful.

Problem two - felt crap.

This then led into the next issue - ski holidays are great, sociable occasions - as long as you are feeling sociable. I wasn't. But neither did I want to be a party pooper. But then again any time I went out I tended to ruin the ambiance of the evening with my hacking cough. My inability to manage small talk didn't help much either.

Problem three - social leper.

By the end of the week I was quite looking forward to coming home, curling up in my flat and getting better properly. I chose not to extend the trip for another day (not least because of the absurd amount of cash I'd burned through on the trip already). So - I waved goodbye to the rest of the group and headed off to the airport. Which was promptly enveloped in the biggest blizzard in living memory. All flights cancelled. As the full implication of this became apparent, a fellow passenger and I hatched a plan to get to Sapporo to stay in a hotel. Don't hold your breath - this isn't a story that will have a sudden happy ending.... My traveling companion was a charming, 70 year old German physics professor on a trip to Tsingdao. He was truly fascinating company, and thank the lord I ran into him otherwise I would have had an utterly grim stopover in Sapporo. As it was, the highlight of the trip home was dinner watching the snow pile down, whilst talking about the second law of thermodynamics and the links between physics and philosophy.

Problem four - it never rains but it blizzards.....

Anyway, said snow meant that all forms of transport from the airport to Sapporo were suspended, leaving no option but to sleep on the terminal floor and then hope that it all picked up the next day. And so it was that 24 hours behind schedule I finally schlepped back to HK, tired, ill and smelly.

Have I had a holiday?? Doesn't feel like it. I've now been signed off work for the next 3 days ("You've got flu" diagnosed my HK GP astutely) and will pioneer an urban mini break instead.