Assignment - What do you think?

I'm submitting this assignment below in the next few days, let me know your thoughts below. I'd like to hear what you think, good or bad! 

The key here is am I showing enough emotion and atmosphere? Do you feel like you are there skiing with me, or watching me ski? Can you feel what it feels like to ski?

                Regardless of how picturesque the view was, with the pure, white snow coating the mountain, or the clearness of the blue skies, it was bitterly cold; to point where after five minutes exposed to the conditions, your toes were numb. 

                Harrison muttered to himself in his husky voice as he nestled his chin deeper beneath his collar, “Let’s try something new she says, it’s something different she says. Ridiculous.”

                 He’d always hated the cold, ever since he was a child. His family home had been a Victorian terrace which only had a log fire in the living room. It was the fifties, long before central heating systems were a mod con. Growing up in a family of six and being the youngest meant that he had been at the back of the group whenever they gathered around on those cold nights.

                Another fifties years later and he was re-living that experience, albeit with a better view point. Nevertheless, it was not his idea of ‘a good time,’ as his wife, Jeanette had put it. 

                To avoid another argument, he had lied and told her he had pulled something coming down the slopes the day before; he looked back at his Oscar worthy limp routine across the bedroom and determined that had won him the seat at the lodge fifteen minutes away from where they were staying for the day.

                Unfortunately for him, the lodge didn’t open until twelve thirty. He’d have to wait in the cold until it opened. He’d decided not to go back to the hotel; it smelled funny, and the bar there was full of happy skiers. No thank you, he told himself.

                Harrison paced up and down the decking as he watched skiers fly by with an exhilaration etched on their face. He sneered at them. He much preferred a crime novel and a nice, large glass of vodka, neat. Ice only watered it down. Ice; he hated the very thought of it as he looked around at the blanket of whiteness before him.

                His ideal selection for a holiday destination would have put him somewhere along the equator. A heat source that never failed for him and he would happily saunter around without the need for any heavy clothing or long, plastic foot extensions.

                The locks on the doors of the lodge clicked behind him and he shot around to see the manager opening the doors up for the first time that day. Harrison charged forward.

                “Good afternoon, Sir.”

                Harrison grunted as he crossed him on the threshold. He quickly made his way to the bar and established himself on the stool in the corner, furthest away from the door. He couldn’t put up with another day of people opening and closing the door, bringing in the chilliest gusts of wind.

                The barman approached him, flicking a coaster onto the oak, bar surface, “What can I get you, Sir?”

                “A new wife,” he said.

Let me know your thoughts.

Thanks.