The Punter's Complete Guide to Ruining Everyone's Day on the Mountain
Editor’s Note: This satirical piece is written with love for our visitors - we’ve all been beginners once. Please ski responsibly and read the mountain safety guide.
Figure 1: Punters in their natural habitat, demonstrating the perfect “arms akimbo mid-air panic” technique
Ah, the noble art of being a punter! You’ve spent £3,000 on a week’s holiday and by God, you’re going to make sure everyone on the mountain knows about it. Here’s your essential guide to achieving maximum irritation per euro spent while maintaining the confidence of someone who definitely knows what they’re doing.
Chapter 1: Equipment and Attire
The Golden Rule: Your gear must cost more than a local’s monthly rent, but you must have absolutely no idea how to use any of it. Think “Formula 1 car driven by someone who just passed their driving test.”
Essential Punter Kit:
- Skis: The longest, widest, most expensive skis in the shop. Insist on race skis because you “like to go fast” despite never exceeding walking pace. Bonus points if they’re designed for powder and you’re skiing on groomed runs while complaining about the lack of fresh snow.
- Clothing: Full fluorescent yellow outfit that could guide aircraft during emergency landings. Your jacket must have more vents than a Swiss cheese factory, all permanently open regardless of temperature.
- Helmet: Optional, because “I’m a good skier” (evidence to the contrary includes three separate YouTube videos of you creating human avalanches).
- Poles: Use them exclusively for pointing at things, poking other skiers, and as emergency brakes. Never actually plant them in the snow - that’s what the mountain is for.
- Goggles: Wear them on your forehead at all times, even indoors. When asked why, explain they’re “prescription” while squinting through the blizzard.
Pro Punter Tip:
Rent your equipment the night before at 6 PM, ensuring maximum queue disruption for everyone trying to get sorted after work. Spend 45 minutes discussing boot fitting with someone who’s clearly trying to close up shop.
Chapter 2: Lift Etiquette for Maximum Annoyance
Loading the Chairlift:
- Wait until the very last second to approach the loading area, then panic-shuffle like you’re trying to catch a departing train
- Ski directly into the person next to you, apologize in three different languages, then do it again
- Sit down before the chair reaches you, creating a human speed bump situation
- Ask loudly: “Is this thing safe?” while 50 meters off the ground, followed by “What happens if we fall?”
- Drop at least one pole, preferably onto someone below. When they look up angrily, wave apologetically with your remaining pole
- Spend the entire ride explaining to your chair partner why you don’t need lessons because you “learned on a dry slope in Basingstoke”
The Gondola Experience:
- Pile in 8 people when the limit is 6, insisting that children “don’t count as full people”
- Remove your boots immediately upon entering, releasing feet that have been marinating in rental boot essence
- Discuss your cryptocurrency portfolio at maximum volume while the windows fog up from your nervous sweating
- Ask the operator if you can stop halfway for photos, then act surprised when they explain gravity doesn’t work that way
- Press your face against the glass and loudly identify every piece of equipment you don’t understand: “Is that a snow cannon? What’s that building? Why is that person going so fast?”
Chapter 3: On-Piste Behavior
The Art of the Random Stop
Perfect your technique of stopping suddenly in the middle of the piste for absolutely no reason. Ideal locations include:
- Just after blind corners (for that authentic “surprise!” element)
- The narrowest parts of cat tracks (human roadblock achievement unlocked)
- Directly below steep sections where people build speed (creating natural human pinball scenarios)
- In the middle of a perfect powder field that took groomers all night to prepare
- At the exact moment someone behind you commits to a turn
Group Dynamics
Travel in packs of 8-12 people, preferably spread across the entire width of the run like a human net. When locals try to pass, close ranks like a defensive wall protecting democracy itself. Bonus points for stopping your entire group to take photos on busy intersections while shouting “EVERYONE SAY CHEESE!” in English to confused French children.
Advanced Group Technique: The “amoeba formation” - constantly changing shape and direction as a group, ensuring no one can predict where you’ll be next, including yourselves.
The Punter Snowplow
Master the art of the uncontrolled snowplow that somehow takes up the entire piste width while moving at the speed of continental drift. Lean on your poles like they’re the last lifeline on the Titanic and maintain a look of pure terror throughout, occasionally shouting “I’M OUT OF CONTROL!” to warn others (and yourself).
Pro Tip: Perfect the “reverse snowplow” where you somehow end up going backwards down the mountain while still facing forward. Physics professors hate this one simple trick.
Chapter 4: Interaction with Locals
Essential Phrases:
- “Excuse me, do you speak English?” (said to people clearly having a conversation in English)
- “How much is that in real money?” (while holding up Monopoly money levels of euros)
- “In Verbier/St. Anton/Courchevel, they do it differently” (despite this being your second time on skis ever)
- “I ski blacks at home” (when struggling on a green run called “Bunny Slope for Toddlers”)
- “This isn’t real snow” (pointing at actual snow that fell from actual clouds)
- “Where’s the manager?” (to mountain rescue who’ve just saved your life)
Restaurant Behavior:
- Complain that the menu isn’t in English, then order “whatever fish and chips you have”
- Ask for modifications to traditional dishes: “Can you make the fondue but without the cheese? I’m lactose intolerant but I still want the authentic experience”
- Leave your skis blocking the entrance like some sort of alpine security system
- Tip in your home currency and act confused when it’s not appreciated, then explain exchange rates to the waitress
- Loudly compare everything to your local Harvester back home: “This tartiflette is nice, but it’s not a proper Harvester salad bar, is it?”
Chapter 5: Advanced Punter Techniques
The Equipment Malfunction
Master the art of having constant equipment problems that defy the laws of physics:
- Bindings mysteriously releasing on flat terrain, but staying locked when you’re actually falling
- Boots that “suddenly don’t fit” despite being fine for three days
- Claiming your rental skis are “definitely not the same ones as yesterday” because they “feel different” (they’re identical)
- Developing sudden allergies to your own equipment the moment you reach difficult terrain
The Medical Emergency
Perfect the dramatic fall on easy terrain requiring ski patrol attention for what locals call “wounded pride syndrome.” Symptoms include:
- Inability to get up despite no visible injury
- Dramatic moaning that can be heard three lifts away
- Insisting you need a helicopter evacuation for what appears to be a bruised ego
- Requesting compensation from the mountain for “clearly defective snow”
The Weather Expert
Despite never having skied in the Alps before, become an instant expert on local weather patterns. Contradict every forecast while standing in exactly the conditions that were predicted. Blame the mountain personally for not having the snow conditions you specifically ordered from your travel agent.
Advanced Weather Technique: Explain to locals why their mountain’s weather is wrong based on what Weather.com told you this morning.
Chapter 6: Après-Ski Mastery
Bar Behavior:
- Order complicated cocktails in mountain huts
- Ask for “proper beer” when offered local brews
- Complain about prices while ordering another round
- Tell everyone about the “much better” resort you went to last year
The Social Media Strategy:
Document every single moment of your incompetence for posterity. Post videos of yourself falling with captions like “Nailed it! 😂” Use at least 47 hashtags per post.
Chapter 7: Departure Day Excellence
On your final day, achieve maximum chaos by:
- Returning equipment 5 minutes before your transfer
- Arguing about damage charges for skis that look like they’ve been through a blender
- Blocking the equipment return area while having an emotional goodbye with your rental boots
- Missing your transfer and asking locals to drive you to the airport
Conclusion
Remember, being a punter isn’t just about skiing badly - it’s about creating memorable experiences for everyone around you through the sheer audacity of your confidence-to-ability ratio. You’ve achieved something truly special: turning a simple mountain into your personal entertainment venue for locals.
Sure, the locals might mutter things in French that would make your Google Translate spontaneously uninstall itself, but deep down, they appreciate your contribution to their daily dose of bewilderment. You’ve single-handedly provided more entertainment than Netflix, more drama than a soap opera, and more suspense than a Hitchcock film (will they make it down alive?).
You’ve paid good money for this holiday, and by George, everyone else is going to pay for it too - in patience, sanity, and the occasional replacement ski pole.
Most importantly, you’ve proven that confidence is not just about ability - it’s about the unwavering belief that physics, mountain safety, and basic courtesy are merely suggestions that don’t apply to people who’ve paid resort prices for a hot chocolate.
Safe skiing, everyone. And remember - we were all beginners once, even if some of us have clearly forgotten that… while others have forgotten they still are.
Disclaimer: This article is written in the spirit of good humor. Please ski within your abilities, respect other mountain users, and consider taking lessons. Your local ski school instructors are saints who deserve hazard pay.