I love ski-ing. At least, I remember loving skiing as a youngster - the wonderful freedom of darting down a slope at breathtaking speeds, slaloming from side-to-side with grace and poise before flashing a smile at one of those achingly pretty French/Spanish/Italian women who always seem - thankfully - to decorate ski resorts.

It is the one activity which, with even a modicum of talent, you can feel like James Bond and - in your head at least - renact great scenes of George Lazenby out-ski-ing Blofeld's minions with style in On Her Majesty's Secret Service (like I said, 'in your head...') Most people say that the ability to ski - much like riding a bike - never really leaves you but I certainly put that to the test in a big way, spending a few days in the beautiful mountain ranges of Andorra with people who just kept asking annoying questions like: "So, just how many times have you skied this winter. They say the slopes in Whistler are to-die-for?"

Mmm.

I opted for a wee bit of caution and days before we set off, headed over to Milton Keynes to have a go in the Snowzone at Xscape.

Real fake snow indoors was promised which was a relief to someone who, in the past, had fallen many times on a dry ski slope and lived with the grazes for weeks (on the other hand, grazes can look macho).

We flew into Barcelona on a sunny t-shirts and shorts day and could scarcely believe that after just a two-and-a-half hours we had driven in snow-covered mountains.

It is a long and winding drive up to the principality and we took in Spain (nice) and France (little oily) before reaching our destination - the five-star Hotel Sport Hermitage and Spa in Soldeu.

The hotel boasts a superb location having been built on the side of a cliff, ensuring all rooms have superb views of the slopes.

But I couldn't help notice that there seemed a distinct lack of snow around, despite there being plenty on the slopes just a hundred metres from our balcony.

As it turns out, this has been one of the worst winters in memory, with snow as common here as it is say in...Didcot. And it's all down to climate change, which doubtless will reassure everyone struggling with Oxford City Council recycling bins.

But worry not - Andorran ski resorts are well equipped with snow cannons which fire out man-made snow at a great rate of knots and thus ensure a good range of slopes.

Our first day skiing was spent in the nearby resorts of Arinsal and Pal in Vallnord, which is about a one hour drive away.

It is a smaller resort than Soldeu (68km of pistes and 26 lifts in peak condition) and again it was suffering from a lack of the white stuff.

But they ensured a good few runs were kept open and for beginners and intermediates, there were blue slopes to sink your teeth into.

Thankfully we had a top guide - a retired Scottish policeman who spent a large part of his career guarding Prince Charles and has attended both of the heir's weddings. Damn him.

Within seconds of seeing me ski, he'd spotted I was not the best and kept bellowing "grace not pace" as I cheerfully careered away.

However, the problems associated with lack of snow soon became obvious as those few slopes which were open tended to get overcrowded, as well as being repetitive to ski down.

On the second day we fell out of the hotel onto the slopes at Soldeu and immediately could see that it was a significantly bigger resort than Vallnord with its 190km of piste and more than 60 lifts.

Lifts seemed to go on for miles and there were quite a few challenging red slopes which - at least for a while - seemed like a gift from the gods.

There was however a small ... complication - this time we had a guide, a young, attractive woman who had competed in downhill and who was a superb skier.

Well, like most young, attractive women who have competed in downhill and who are superb skiers, she'd just keep dashing off in front, leaving me with no option but to grit my teeth and plunge after her.

Actually, there was another option and that was to stop being such an ego-driven middle-ager and accept that she really wasn't going to think afterwards: "Wow, could that reedy, uptight Englishman ski..."

Which is why it was inevitable - five seconds after I took up her offer of trying out one of Andorra's best race courses, I had skied into a safety net and cartwheeled down the mountain in a most dramatic fashion.

Bizarrely, Andorra seems to suffer from a reputation of being a cheaper resort than most but this seems to be very outdated.

The locals are friendly and the skiing is good - even when there is little snow.

And - this is very important - its close location to Barcelona is an added bonus as you can combine a ski trip with a city break.

I stayed in the Hotel Sport Hermitage and Spa in Soldeu.

First impressions of the hotel were very good.

It only opened at the end of last year and is spic-and-span in appearance, but when you scratch beneath the surface you realise some aspects of this luxury hotel just aren't right (they are minor and correctable but annoying nonetheless).

For example, in the bedrooms there is no main light source - just dozens of spotlights on the walls, each giving out less light than a candle. In fact, despite having 20/20 vision, I couldn't even distinguish between the colours of my clothes in the gloom.

The hotel also boasts a four-level spa where you can swim outside and sit in a jacuzzi overlooking the slopes (except that you can't because the seats in the jacuzzi face the rusty old air conditioning unit and not the stunning scenery... tut tut tut).