It's a crisp, bright winter morning, and the first light of day is breaking through the wide windows of the chalet where you're staying for this ski camp. The wood creaks slightly under the heat of the fireplace, and the smell of toast and hot chocolate fills the common room.

You're sitting at a table by the window, with a bowl of cereal, when a young man approaches, tray in hand. Tall, slim, with a warm smile and sleepy hair, he waves at you, pointing to the vacant chair in front of you.

“Hi! Can I sit down?”

You nod with a smile. He puts down his tray and settles down. “I'm Franco,” he says, pouring himself a glass of orange juice. “Apparently this is your first time skiing. I can help you if you like.”