Kenny and I are still fairly new to family holidays — our twins Reuben and Lois are 18 months old next week. We have had three trips so far, one as far away as Cape Town and one as close to home as Scotland; what they have all had in common is that we have never taken help or sought any out at the resort. We have had great fun on these trips, but “twins on tour” is hardly relaxing so, to paraphrase a friend, it’s been a case of “same dishes, different sink”.

We knew that if we wanted to fulfil our dream of learning to ski, either we would have to leave the babies at home, or find a tour operator with great childcare options.

Powder Byrne seemed to deliver all the answers. I was nervous about leaving Reuben and Lois in a crèche but one of the Powder Byrne nannies,Gemma, rang me a week before we flew to see if they had any special requirements and our chat set my mind at ease.

We were advised to go to the resort of Grindelwald in Switzerland; its “chocolate box” appearance, combined with all levels of skiing and proximity to Zurich, made it the perfect choice.

The Swissair flight was as easy as any we have attempted with the babies and, before we knew it, Steve, one of Powder Byrne’s men on the ground, was packing the car with our luggage and loading up Madagascar on the DVD to keep them occupied on the two-hour journey. On arrival at the hotel, we were met by Jo, the resort manager, who whisked us off to get skis and lift passes, all of which took about ten minutes as Powder Byrne organises everything in advance. Jo was our knight in shining armour on more than one occasion.

The Belvedere not only delivered some of the most spectacular views I have ever seen from a hotel window, but it was genuinely child-friendly. It sounds like a tiny detail, but the babies’ high chairs and crockery were waiting every time we arrived for a meal. I can’t tell you the times we have hung around for ten minutes or more at hotels we’ve stayed in all week, while the staff rushed around trying to find chairs, as if it was a surprise we were coming — when all the while the babies were getting hungrier and more agitated.

Grindelwald lived up to all expectations. It is a magical little town nestled in a valley that faces the Eiger, one of the great mountains of the world. In the summer months it attracts the climbing and walking crowd and in the winter the snowboarders and skiers dominate.

There is a fairly even split in terms of the difficulty of the slopes, with plenty of areas for absolute beginners like Kenny and me. To be technically correct, absolute beginners is not quite true; Kenny had skied a couple of times as a teenager in Scotland and I had one day on a mountain an hour from Las Vegas back in 1996.

While I was keen to play down any previous experience I may have had, Kenny was keen to overstate his two days on Glen Shee in 1990. The slopes would find us out. Our instructor was a local girl called Alex who has been teaching for 11 years and, in the off season, drives a tourist train on the border with Italy – I liked her immediately.

There are 110 instructors in Grindelwald’s official Swiss Ski School and, after the week we had with Alex, I am bound to say that I think we got their finest.

We took the 30-minute train journey up to Kleine Scheidegg from where we could get lifts to a variety of slopes or ski straight back down the mountain. For the most adventurous, it is possible to ski back to Grindelwald, if the snow permits.

Lack of snow is a topic that dominates all conversation in the Alps at the moment. The nursery slopes, where I would end up spending most of my week, were fine, but some of the blue runs were very icy because of the lack of fresh snow.

As I looked around the carriage, I realised that everything about us screamed beginner, from the shine on our salopettes to the way we wore our goggles on the train. Putting skis on for the first time was a major event. I wished that I had practised in my room the night before, as I slipped around trying to get my foot in and looked up to see Kenny already careering down a slope. It was clear that “learning to ski together” was a romantic fantasy.

To be fair, he came back to see how I was getting on and, at the end of day one, I was feeling adventurous so we decided to ski down to the next station. I’d fallen earlier and hurt my knee but I was trying to be brave and also to impress my husband so I carried on. With hindsight I should have stopped after the first blue run, because as we neared the end of the second, with the station just around the corner, I hit some ice and fell in rather dramatic fashion.

My already strained left knee twisted every which way it could and eventually my ski fell off as I hit the deck. Kenny was already at the station, probably drinking a nice cold beer, when a kind lady told him that she thought his wife was in trouble.

How could she tell? Perhaps it was the way I was rolling around, clutching my leg, while swearing in five different languages. Kenny selflessly left his beer and persuaded one of the mountain rescue drivers to head up to find me.

Alex, who was skiing with me, had already rung for help but Kenny’s skidoo man got there first.

I was feeling very sorry for myself. Not only had I potentially ruined our holiday, but what if I had ruptured ligaments? My worst fears were not confirmed; Jo arranged for me to see a physiotherapist and, two days later, after plenty of arnica and lots of bags of ice, I was back on the nursery slopes.

Of course, I was now two days behind Kenny, who had already attempted red runs and was becoming quite a nice skier. But Alex wasn’t just a good instructor, she was an excellent motivator and she helped me to rebuild my confidence. I had learnt my lesson: rest if you hurt yourself and don’t worry about impressing anybody out there.

What surprised us most about this trip was how rested our minds felt. The physicality of skiing didn’t tire us, it exhilarated us. Learning a new skill at 33 was great for the brain, and the environment was so breathtaking and peaceful that we didn’t think about work or any of life’s minutiae at all. As we came down in the train for the last time Kenny was very quiet. “You haven’t got holiday blues?” I said.

“Nope, I am just wondering when we can move to Switzerland.”

Need to know

Gabby Logan travelled to Grindelwald with Powder Byrne (020-8246 5300, www.powderbyrne.com). Seven nights’ half-board at the Hotel Belvedere costs from £1,148 per adult leaving March 3, including flights and transfers. The Powder Byrne crèche is free outside school holidays.

A six-day Jungfrau ski pass costs £143 and Grindelwald Ski School (00 41 33 854 1280, www.grindelwald.com) offers private tuition.

Gabby Logan is a patron of Sparks, a children’s charity (www.sparks.org.uk).

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