Scotch on the slopes : TRAVEL

Great snow for just £21 a day - and fine malts for a little extra. Sue Nelson has a Highland fling in the Cairngorms

It was a typical night's television. A couple of soaps, some sport and Rhodes around Britain on the perfect salmon fishcake. Then along came Weatherview and the ski report for Europe. John Kettley looked grim.

"Not good I'm afraid," he said and waved a hand across the Alps. Snow conditions were bad because the weather wasn't cold enough. "So the best skiing," concluded Kettley, "will be closer to home." A map of Scotland appeared and I cheered with delight. Aviemore was on - and what's more, it was recommended.

Two days later, on the slopes of the Cairngorms, Irvine Nagy declares the beginners' area "a disaster zone". Bodies are strewn everywhere; helpless with laughter and unable to stand. A family of Australians is skiing for the first time and Irvine is the instructor.

"I've never seen snow before," says Stephen gleefully, "so this is fantastic." While his sister Melissa clings desperately to a fence, Irvine helps Father position a snowplough. "No," Irvine says, suppressing a smile, "The V is pointing forwards, not back."

As it's 18 years since my last skiing holiday, I too need attention. "It's like riding a bicycle," insists David Barclay, chief instructor at the Aviemore Ski School. "You never forget."

I've certainly never forgotten the school skiing trip to Austria. Two weeks of crashing and laughing and a badge for "best improver". It was a wonderful holiday, but I never considered skiing again. Too expensive, I decided, and far too trendy. There were suits to buy, fashions to follow and costly equipment to hire at the other end. No wonder a Highlife Specials brochure caught my attention. Five nights self-catering in Aviemore, with friend, from £21 per person per night. Skis, sticks and boots an extra £6.60 a day. Altogether affordable.

Accommodation is at the Mercury Hotel, a basic concrete box, but inside it is much more welcoming. The rooms are homely: twin beds, en suite bath, a dining-table and a comfy sofa in front of the television. There's also a nifty partitioned kitchen with a two-ring Baby Belling.

Outside the snow fell steadily and temperatures edged below zero. We headed for the bar in search of a warming whisky. "Well, there's Tamnavulin, Glenfarclas, Glenfiddich, Glenlivet, Glen Grant..."

The following morning my brother Colin and I are stuck in a traffic queue waiting to ski. The Cairngorms are only nine miles east of Aviemore but an overnight blizzard swept 50ft drifts into the ski station's main car park, causing a two-mile tailback. Inside the car, Moray Firth Radio eases the wait. "What's the plural of haggis?" a DJ asks. "Is it haggises or haggi?" In between the contributions to debate, Ski FM provides us with regular updates.

"Snow ploughs are working hard," a voice chirps, "Nine of the 17 lifts are currently up and running and roads will open in 10 minutes." The forecast is excellent skiing with some drifts and "flat light" - this means not much shadow, so the bumps or moguls will be difficult to see.

On the slopes, snug in our hired ski suits, we meet our instructor, David Barclay. Originally from Glasgow, he can't remember how long he's worked in Aviemore. "You'd have to cut off a leg and count the rings. But if you can ski in Scotland you can ski anywhere, because conditions are far harder," he explains. The climate is closer to that of the Arctic than the Alps. "The trouble is, too many people compare Aviemore with abroad. It's completely different."

After lunch, Barclay removes me from the beginners' class and declares me a "snowplough in need of some mileage."

A T-bar pulls us to the first station at Shieling. We transfer on to the White Lady chairlift for Ptarmigan - at 3,600ft, just 484ft below Cairn Gorm's summit. All around us, youngsters snowboard and skiers shoot past with varying degrees of skill. Advanced skiers use the M1 race route, one of the most difficult runs alongside the bumpier White Lady.

The view is sublime: pure white hills and smoky bruised clouds. In some places it is difficult to see where horizon ends and sky begins. Pine forests are covered with snow; sheets of ice pepper Loch Morlich, and dense mist shrouds the valley below the Coire Cas day lodge.

The resort of Aviemore itself, however, has no reputation for beauty - in fact, it's sometimes referred to as the Milton Keynes of the Highlands. The 100-acre Aviemore Centre, a purpose-built holiday development from the Sixties which includes the Mercury Hotel, was once described by Billy Connolly as an "air-raid shelter without windows". True, the place is not much to look at, but it's friendly, beautifully located and - more important - extremely convenient for the Cairngorms.

Apres-ski seems limited to either a whirlpool bath in the Red McGregor Hotel or a pint in the Winking Owl. This is not as bad as it sounds. The Winkie does a cracking 8oz steak and trimmings for £6.50, has a 1987 trivia machine and sells glasses of Irn-Bru. It also boasts three shelves of malt whisky.

On Sunday the snow causes yet another delay. In our fugged-up car we hear an interruption to programmes on Ski FM - it's an appeal for the Rhodes around Britain film crew, also apparently stuck in traffic. This is spooky, are they following me?

This time I join an intermediate class. Conditions are harder than yesterday because of the wind and fresh snow: I fall on the way to the chairlift. "I'll have two of what you're drinking," a bystander quips.

Snow lashes our faces as Annie Bugiel takes six of us up the intermediate Fiacaill Ridge. Annie instructed abroad for five years and joined the Aviemore Ski School last December. She likes the lack of pretension and friendliness in Aviemore. "In France you're lucky to get a smile from people," she says, "and everyone's preoccupied with the right kind of ski suit."

Afterwards, as I sip Gluhwein in the lodge bar, my knees and thighs beg for mercy. Happy and exhausted, I tackle a plate of perfectly cooked fish and chips. Aviemore, I decide, may not be up-market, but that doesn't mean it's down-market. Then I notice Gary Rhodes, in his chef's outfit, preparing to make ice-cream for the cameras. Poor Gary, I muse. Fancy coming to Aviemore and missing the skiing. !