I was preparing to leave Alp D’Huez and my body was already thanking me for the rest it was going to get. 

First would come a 12-hour drive across France and into London - but the rest would be hard-earned when I finally made it home. 

I say finally because just before I left there was another huge snowfall.

It was hard to believe it was spring in the French Alps as there was as much snow there now as I saw in January.

If you are a regular there you will know how I struggle to take that last ski turn.

I’m always terrified it will be the last turn - nobody is promised tomorrow.

Other people put their skis away after the winter and sometimes take for granted that they’ll be putting them on next season.

But I am fully aware that that might not be the case.

So with that in mind I quickly looked online to see if there was any other ski resorts still open and there it was: Val Thorens open until the 5th of May.

I could feel the excitement raising in my body, the conversation inside my mind on whether I should go or not. 

Val Thorens was only a three-hour drive from my hotel in Alp D’Huez.

I knew it would add a few extra hours to the drive home but as I reflected on my formula of effort equals reward, I decided a few more days on snow was well worth the effort.

Anyway it’s not like the drive is a chore, the road up to Val Thorens is stunning, a 34km climb that made me think I wish I’d packed my bike. 

The road wound up through the green valleys where empty chairlifts with no snow sat. 

With no sign of snow on the lower slopes, it wasn’t long until I was climbing above 1800m and up to the resort which sits at 2300m that I started to feel the real excitement.

I felt quite overwhelmed as I drove into the resort.

The slopes looked busy and I was totally out of my comfort zone coming to a new place alone. 

Alp D’Huez is easy for me and I know it well - however this was a whole new experience.

On the website it said disabled friendly and that they work hard at making the resort accessible so disabled people can ski here and enjoy themselves in a safe environment.

But first impression as I drove in was that the website might not be completely accurate.

It was much bigger than Alp D’Huez and I started to wonder how I was going to get about. 

As I pulled up to the hotel I was informed that I could not park my car outside the hotel and the closest car park was approximately 500m away.

I quickly realised this was going to be a challenging trip.

I know 500m doesn’t sound much and especially after I told you I walked five hours last week in Alp D’Huez.

Buy that day was a one-in-a-million day - most of my days are spent hobbling around and struggling to cover metres not miles.

But I tried to keep an open mind and the slopes did look very inviting.

So I drove my car to the car park and hit my first hurdle of the trip. 

I was in and out of my car three times just to get into a space and then the walk back to the hotel. 

By the time I reached the hotel I was exhausted and it wasn’t long until I was passed out on my bed.

The reality of my decision would not hit me until the next morning.

After a good breakfast I decided to go outside to do some reconnaissance around where I was going to ski. 

The hotel reception told me it was an easy 30m walk to put my skis on and on the way home a three-minute walk back to the hotel.

This wasn’t entirely true for my situation and I started to worry about not just getting to the slopes but how I was going to get my ski boots on the ski mojo and then my kit to the slopes and then safely down to the chairlift.

As I stood watching the chair go up I could see that the resort had not had many updates regarding infrastructure after heavy investment for the 1992 Olympic Games.

It almost felt that the resort was extremely tired and most of the chairlifts old. 

Modern chairlifts automatically slow down to pick you up and drop you off where some of the old chairs can be quite rough at picking you up and you’ve got to have quite good dexterity to get off at the top. 

As I stood watching the chairlifts here it quickly filled me with anxiety, so I decided to go into the station to ask if the lift attendants would help me.

It wasn’t long until I realised that skiing here is not going to be straightforward. 

However, my decision was taken out of my hands when the lift station ticket office refused to sell me a pass and I was told that I was not allowed to use the chairlift nor the gondola.

With no explanation the lady just looked at me and just said no. 

I stood there feeling quite embarrassed as there was a queue of people behind me.

I felt like I’d been punched in the face, as all my worries of my disability and my independence delivered to me in one blow by a ticket lady telling me you cannot ski here.

Thankfully all my sessions with professor Steve Peters paid off.

I feel like I can manage my chimp, so rather than making any sort of scene I hobbled out of the station office with my head held low and feeling pretty down about myself.

When I arrived back at my hotel my chimp was dying to express its frustration and it did with the gentleman in reception.

I could see that he was wanting to try and help, he said there’s many things you can do here without skiing, like go to the spa and have a massage or play pool - neither of which I wanted to do. 

I wanted to ski.

And that evening the hotel reception presented me with an option for me to potentially ski.

The only way I can ski here as a disabled person is to go to the ESF which is the French ski school and book a private handicapped instructor at a cost of €440 a day.

I felt quite frustrated about this because I didn’t want an instructor.

I know I can ski and I can see the green run right in front of me.

I didn’t want to spend my day with someone I may not get along with or they may not want to be with me and at €440 for the privilege I felt that was not right. 

Someone who is a complete beginner can go on slopes without an instructor so why can I disabled skier not?

That’s the only solution to ski and I’ve booked three nights at the hotel and drove three hours to get here to find the resort is impossible for me to get around without a wheelchair and without skiing I am now pretty much confined to the hotel.

I didn’t feel annoyed, just slightly sad. It put a spotlight on my spinal cord injury and my tumour which left me feeling low and slightly lost.

I decided that the universe has sent me enough messages to say ‘don’t go on the slopes here’.

I decided just to rest, sleep and take advantage of some downtime before the big drive back to London. 

It has been hard to let go of skiing this winter.

I think that’s because I know once I stop skiing I will have to face my next step on the tumour journey and that’s something I don’t feel I have the strength for.