While I never purport to be an expert in matters of the heart, one thing I can certainly shoot my mouth off about is having sex in inappropriate places.
As we learned in my previous educational article on the subject of seasons, the slopes are not necessarily the place to find your dream life partner. I failed spectacularly in my mission to avoid shagging any skint, ne’re-do-well student ski bum types, and have subsequently ended up living with one permanently.
However, in an attempt to aid you in exploring your own alpine sexual horizons to the max, allow me to dispense the following advice. Follow or disregard at your own discretion.
1) You're unlikely to meet 'The One'
Ladies and gentlemen. Yes, you’re unlikely to find either of these on a season – not in the Alps anyway. Don’t mistakenly believe that a ski resort is the place to meet ‘the one’ or be swept off your feet by someone exciting and exotic. It always ends in disappointment.
Gentlemen generally come in the form of arse-hanging-out-of-pants, long, greasy-haired, bearded types.
Ladies will mostly sport un-brushed hair, leggings and chalet-buttocks. Both male and female are likely to exude the exotic effluvium of Eau de Unwashed Snow-Bum and exhibit serious commitment issues.
2) It's every man for himself
Sharing one bunk room with six people has its drawbacks. Lack of privacy being the main one.
One can devise a private shag-time system based on bribery and subterfuge (hiding your room-mate’s key so he can’t interrupt, for example), or even, as some friends of mine did last season, assign one particular room in the flat as the communal ‘shag den’.
However, when you’re lying awake with a nasty little headache and a burgeoning hangover at 3.37am, listening to your room-mate’s balls slapping against someone else’s arse in the bunk above you, you will understand what I mean.
Those who believe they are pretty deft at furtive, silent, under-duvet sex in a room full of people, rarely actually are.
3) Explore all options
In theory, it's all very nice having a resort lover. But since the major problem is privacy, you’ll find you have to shag in all sorts of random places.
Destinations of choice may include bubble lifts (make sure it’s long enough or you’ll be caught in flagrante when the doors open at the top), transfer cars (protect the seating or you’ll be scrubbing the upholstery as your boss watches in fury), chair lifts (caution: risk of body parts sticking to metal à la Dumb and Dumber).
Failing all that…
4) Approach off-piste sex with caution
Take your beeps and check the snow pack - risk of avalanche and ice burn. Take a rug, or stand up.
Ski and snowboard boots are highly useful in this capacity since they allow you to lean, Smooth-Criminal style, without falling over. Do not attempt during a white-out or in areas inhabited by wild boars and/or bears.
Oh yes, and unless you want an audience, find a suitable tree run, far away from any lifts. Knit yourself a willy-warmer or woolly condom (optional).
5) Self-service is off the menu
As anyone who's been to boarding school will know, when sharing a bedroom the opportunity to have a wank is rare. I like to flick the bean at bedtime, so sue me. It helps me sleep.
Something I never expected to have to do on a season was to re-awaken the boarding-school-honed art of the imperceptible stealth wank.
It requires extreme dexterity and the ability to lie completely still and silent while in the throes of pleasure, thereby almost asphyxiating oneself under the duvet.
It often results in an intensely sore wrist and is not particularly satisfactory when not accompanied by porn.
6) Panic shagging may occur
End of season bar closures tend to produce the most alarming behaviour in people.
Invariably, every night descends into a borderline orgy with a crap DJ, alongside a growing number of seasonaires crammed into a tiny space, rubbing themselves against each other and pouring spirits down their throats straight from the bottle.
It is a time to break the glass on your emergency shag candidate. Alternatively, if you’ve been mooning over someone all winter, take the bull by the horns, so to speak, and ram your tongue down their eighteen-year-old throat.
7) Disease is widespread
Think about it. You’ve got a village full of randy teenagers suddenly set free from the parental nests, banjaxed to the eyeballs every night, snogging and shagging their way through the equivalent of six months worth of freshers' weeks.
Add to this toxic mixture a healthy dollop of your serial mountain worker on their 15th season, carrying every STD under the sun and up for poking anything with a hole that breathes, alongside a network of sex pest instructors, chefs and waiters.
Voilà! You have a whole new dimension of lurgy. A Petri dish of filth. Only a fool comes on a season without a bumper pack of condoms and a full course of antibiotics.
8) Threesomes, foursomes and much moresomes
If you are lucky enough to work in a private chalet, perhaps with a hot tub or unlimited wine cellar, it is your responsibility, no, duty to have group sex in that chalet. I know I did, and I heartily recommend it.
Everybody’s thinking it. I’m just putting it out there. 90% of people secretly long for a three-way, it’s just that only a hallowed few have the chutzpah to make it happen.
And, particularly if your boss is a bit of an arse, there is no better feeling than knowing you’ve had more sex in his four-poster/hot tub/sauna than he has.