Matthew Benns enjoys a snow holiday with his princesses.

Snugdom is not actually a word - I checked in the dictionary - but it does rather brilliantly sum up the joys of warming yourself by the fire in a cosy restaurant at Mount Hutt village on an icy New Zealand night.

Logs were blazing in the open hearth and the room was full of happy banter fuelled by the pinot noir that swirled in generous glasses. As we clattered through the door with a movie-style gust of cold air on our tails, it was impossible not to feel your spirits lift at the sheer snugdom of it.

It was the kingdom of snug. Just like a movie. In fact, the whole week in the land of the long white cloud had a kind of snug golden glow that normally only comes in a Hollywood Christmas offering.

I knew it was going to be good from the very start when the nice lady at Europcar pointed straight past the Daihatsu Charade and said: "Which of the four-wheel-drives would you like?"

Cool. I may have been a bit sniffy about the Mosman tractor in Sydney but in New Zealand it's a different story. On those winding mountain roads there is nothing better than having the vice-like grip of a Nissan X-Trail stopping you from touching the void.

And the kids loved it. Apparently, it temporarily gave their old man a little bit of hip. Why, I even tuned the wireless into the hit parade for a few boogie woogie numbers to enliven the journey. See, like, very happening, er ... dude.

Street-cred firmly established, we drove from Christchurch to Methven and checked into the Whitestone Cottages. Beautiful open gas fireplace, deep warm carpets and a wooden veranda with an uninterrupted view of the mountains. Getting the picture? Very snug.

It being New Zealand there were plenty of sheep outside on the lawn. One, called Murphy, was the great-great-great grandlamb of a sheep that Captain Cook had booted off his boat a couple of hundred years ago. The kids enjoyed feeding him although I personally felt he would have been nice with a little mint sauce.

Then it was up to Mount Hutt for some skiing. There has been a big emphasis on the beginner areas this year and it showed with an excellent, just challenging enough, area for the kids to try out their skills.

Our little party also included a first-time skier. Secretly I had been quietly looking forward to this. In her real life the novice skier is a ballerina - you know the thing - all grace and gliding around on tiptoes. Generally making the rest of us feel like gigantic, clumsy, bumbling oafs.

Some may say that it was a little uncharitable to be awaiting the inevitable coming down to earth with such anticipation. Perhaps it's the tall poppy syndrome? I couldn't possibly admit to hugging my sides with glee as I mentally compared her imminent arrival on skis to my own where I resembled a newborn giraffe on roller skates ... for three days.

Sadly I have to report that it appears some people are just naturally graceful and have inherent beauty and balance. She did not take even one tiny tumble, but was soon whizzing down the green slope with confident abandon. What that says about me I'd prefer not to think about, thank you very much.

Anyway, after a fantastic few days' skiing Mount Hutt and dining in the old post office - aptly named the Last Post - we took the trusty X-Trail on the six-hour drive to Queenstown. The scenery is magnificent. Soaring, craggy mountain ranges, cornflower-blue lakes filled with glacier water, and sheep. Lots and lots of sheep. We took in the tiny church and skimmed stones at Lake Tekapo on the way and made only fleeting reference to the fact that it was an excellent name for a toilet stop.

Queenstown is a bustling world away from quiet Methven. A teeming ski hub of activity with sensational mountains a short drive away. From a comfy spot just in front of the log fire at the Point Apartments we could look straight out across the lake to the mountains beyond. Really, it felt very, you guessed it, snug. By now the ballerina and the two little princesses had the ski bug quite badly. We hit the slopes with a vengeance. Coronet Peak provided hours of green-run fun and expert lessons for them while those of us who have graduated from giraffe on roller skates to skiing's equivalent of the dying swan could go and fall over on a few more challenging runs. It was a blast.

There was a small rebellion on a particularly steep blue run when the eldest princess shook her head and refused to take the plunge. Her younger sibling, trusting in the wisdom of her father, charged down the slope only to end up doing the splits with her bum in the air and her head stuck in the snow. She stuck by her sister's side pretty closely after that.

However, the most awe-inspiring drive and breathtaking ski runs are the sole reserve of the Remarkables. They really are, well, remarkable. We were so high that we actually looked down on a plane flying below us. Once parked, scooting up the Alta Chair and across to the Sugar Bowl Chair before blitzing to the bottom through a powder bowl while encircled by mountain peaks is surely one of the highlights of skiing New Zealand.

And just to finish off the trip we paid an inordinate amount of money of the "aw d d" variety to be hurtled through a gorge on the bright red Shotover Jet. It was worth every one of the dollars per minute it took to blast and spin us past the rocks of this natural wonderland at enormous speed.

In fact, on the last night, as we sat by the crackling fire with the snow gently drifting down outside I reflected happily that it had been a particularly wonderful trip. I was tempted to share this with my travelling companions but from the sofa, where all three princesses were curled up, there came a most un-ballerina like snore.

That's the sound that accompanies perfect snugdom.

The writer was a guest of Southern Alpine Recreation.

TRIP NOTES

Getting there Air New Zealand flies year round from Sydney to Queenstown, starting from $367 one way, per person, including taxes. For bookings, see www.airnewzealand.com.au. Europcar offers a range of four-wheel-drive vehicles to explore New Zealand. Prices start from just $49 per day for an intermediate car which includes snow chains, ski racks, vouchers for discounts and discounted ski-lift passes. For bookings, see www.europcar.co.nz.

Staying there Whitestone Cottages, Methven has four self-catering two-bedroom houses with en suites, decks, and gas fires. There is a tennis court, sauna, spa and a paddock of pet sheep. Rates start at $295 a night per cottage. See www.whitestonecottages.co.nz. For more accommodation options see www.nzski.com.