When did “man-made” become a swear word? As a few eco-poseur protesters are hailed as freedom fighters liberating the planet from an alleged airborne plague of people, it is time for the humanity-huggers among us to stand up.

So, in the tradition of columnists generalising a theory of the world from what happens on their holidays, I offer my first experience of skiing in the mountains of Italy last week as proof that every wonder of the world is in fact man-made - a product either of human ingenuity or imagination.

Millions “escape” from our urbanised existence to the ski slopes for a taste of untamed nature. (Although even up a mountain they cannot escape the doom-mongering about man-made global warming, despite much of the world suffering a freezing winter.) My wife and I took our ageing limbs and young daughters to the Dolomites for a taste, and to the surprise of this cynical old ski virgin, found it great fun. But we also discovered that there is nothing natural about it.

Resort skiing says less about the mountains' timeless splendour than about modern humanity's conquest of nature, turning icy wastes into centres of civilisation. Without such man-made wonders as cable cars and ski technology, the mountains would be off the map to most of us. Indeed, even though plenty of snow had fallen, the ski slopes are made perfect by pumping out “artificial” snow each night, then an army of snowcats crimp and primp the pistes into place so that we tourists can experience Nature.

Even the majesty of the mountains is, in the end, a product of the human imagination. As we looked down in wonder at Europe's other great range, the Alps, on our guilt-free budget flight, it occurred to me that this spectacular panorama did not exist until the wonder of air travel. Or as Shelley put it in Mont Blanc 200 years ago: “And what were thou, and earth, and stars, and sea/ If to the human mind's imaginings/ Silence and solitude were vacancy?” Without the human mind's imaginings, that mighty rock would just be a mount blank.

Gliding from the sublime to the ridiculous, it is still best not to take nature for granted. After a few days on the nursery slopes, and having enjoyed a mamma-made lunch and half-carafe at a lodge halfway up the mountain, I decided to brave half a proper piste with our daughters. As soon as my skis touched that steep slope I hurtled past my serenely gliding girls, screaming “Jesus Chrissssst...!” JC apparently heard my prayers and got me to the bottom safely, although I credit the miracle of skis and ski boots with keeping this creaky geezer upright.

Then, rather full of myself, I stepped off the snow still wearing them, slid on the ice and crashed headlong into a parked car. Thus having defeated - or scraped a draw with - the mountain, I was laid low by the man-made car park. Make of that what moral you may.

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