I grew in Cape Town, playing on the banks of  the Liesbeek river long before it was canalized. I remember clearly the view from my window looking across to  the shaded side of the iconic Table Mountain. I also remember the scolding of my irate mother, when we had set out to climb the mountain and descend by cable car. Unlucky for us, strong winds had closed the  tram down and so I stumbled and slid down the mountainside,  mostly on my backside, tearful and terrified… getting to our pickup point hours later than planned. That explains the irate mama. 

It reminded me of a ski trip to Lake Louise, years later, when, as a beginner skier, I inadvertently found myself at the top of a  Black Diamond run and thought I would rather freeze to death than ski down.