In 1956, three British MPs encountered a group of Swiss politicians in the bar of the Hotel Fluela in Davos and after a few drinks challenged them to a ski race. A timed slalom contest took place the following day, with the three-person Swiss team beating the Brits by a combined four seconds. Not willing to take this lying down, the MPs insisted on a rematch the following year and thus was born the Anglo-Swiss Parliamentary Ski Week, which celebrated its 70th anniversary last week.

I heard about it from my friend Dan Hannan shortly after I became a peer, and immediately put my name down, imagining it to be a massive freebie. Not so. The Graubunden canton provides you with a free lift pass, and the local ski school, which organises the races, throws in some complimentary guides. But apart from that you have to pay for everything yourself.

It’s fair to say that this exercise in chairlift diplomacy isn’t as glamorous as it once was. The oldest participant this year was the 93-year-old Lord McColl, still an active member of the Upper House, and his wife, Evy Lise, told me about the times King Charles made a surprise appearance. He was comfortably beaten in the giant slalom, as you’d expect.

The Swiss team continued to win in every category until an upset occurred in 2024. At the start of the race on the final day, a man in his mid-fifties turned up and asked if he could have a go. Unlike the immaculately turned-out Swiss, he was dressed in an MCC cricket jumper and a woolly hat, arousing some suspicion. But he turned out to be a bona fide peer, so was given a bib and a number.

Fifty-four seconds later – which is the time it took him to complete the course, comfortably beating every other contestant by at least half a second – a legend was born. The late entrant turned out to be Clifton Hugh Lancelot de Verdon Wrottesley, an Anglo-Irish hereditary. He represented Ireland in the men’s skeleton at the 2002 Winter Olympics, just missing a medal by 0.61 seconds, so the giant slalom course was a walk in the park. He took home the cup for the fastest time and bought everyone a drink afterwards – James Bond in ermine.

Lord Wrottesley was beaten by half a second last year by Marc Jost, a Swiss parliamentarian, and for the 70th anniversary the home team were taking no chances. They introduced a new rule whereby you had to participate in the activities leading up to the final in order to compete, thereby ruling out our Olympian, who has four children he can’t abandon for a week. I was hoping Lord Wrottesley would show up anyway – he has a house in nearby St Moritz – but no such luck. It fell to me, Liz Truss, four peers and eight contestants from the other place to hold the British end up. Needless to say, we were all beaten, although with a time of just under one minute and 12 seconds I did at least come first among the Lords contingent. Liz came third in the ladies’ competition.

He took home the cup for the fastest time and bought everyone a drink – James Bond in ermine

It wasn’t all fun and games. On Thursday evening the parliamentarians had a round-table discussion about the impact of AI on the future of democracy. I suggested our countries, as the two biggest European economies outside the EU, work together on a transnational framework for regulating AI – a more light-touch regime than the one Brussels is hoping to impose on us.

That isn’t as ambitious as it sounds. According to Tim Loughton, an ex-minister in attendance, the Berne Financial Services Agreement, which came into force on 1 January, wouldn’t have happened had it not been for some British lobbying on the inter-parliamentary ski trip. It creates a joint regulatory framework across financial services that’s expected to raise billions in tax revenue every year. As Tim pointed out, even if the Ski Week were an ‘all expenses paid’ trip, as Private Eye once claimed, it would have paid for itself many times over. It shouldn’t be confused with the other annual jamboree in Davos.

Politicians are often derided as freeloaders – and back in the 1980s the News of the World used to send a photographer every year hoping to catch Cecil Parkinson up to no good in the hotel bars. But the group I’ve just spent a few days with were a pretty wholesome bunch, particularly our hosts. Absent Lord Wrottesley, I expect they will carry on winning for the next 70 years – and few would begrudge them that. Still, I think I can shave at least ten seconds off my time so will come again next year. Got to do my best for King and Country, even if he’s unlikely to turn up again.