October 2007 - Posts
Where is it? In the valley next door to Zermatt and the Matterhorn, perched on a shelf of pastures at the base of a horseshoe of mountain peaks. Transfer times of between 3-4 hours from Geveva or Zurich. Sion airport is roughly an hour away but little used by the package tour operators. The skiing: High glacier skiing over 3500 meters. Poorly laid out system of lifts with walking between the top of the cable car and gondolas to reach the highest underground railway in Europe. This reaches the rotating restaurant with brilliant views all around. Being a glacier, off-piste skiing is strictly forbidden. With only two proper blacks, advanced skiers will find their opportunities limited. Lift pass covers Saas Grund (very pleasant, long lift up, two long reds down) and Saas Balen, which was shut when we visited. Apres Ski: Lively apres ski with a wide choice of indoor and outdoor venues Resort: Picturesque village set in bowl surrounded by mountain peaks. The entire village is car free and peaceful. However, this is spoilt by scores of electric milk float-type buggies that whisper through the narrow streets. The resort has a complete range of hotels, chalets and self-catering available. Who won’t like it: Very limited for advanced skiers. No off-piste, two good snow board parks but very limited beside that. Because of the glacier, all short lifts in the ski area are T-bars that can be re-positioned as the ice moves. Who will like it: Long cruisey reds, once at the top, very little poling even on the blues all the way down, limited main runs, so you can't get lost. The ski school is very good (I didn't use it), so ideal for mixed intermediate groups.
EVER thought about skiing before Christmas but been too afraid to try it? You tell yourself there won’t be any snow, the lifts won’t be open and the bars and restaurants will all be in mothballs. So why take the risk?
They are all reasonable worries. But in the age of the Internet it is possible to check out resort opening dates – including ones that have been brought forward thanks to early dumps of snow – and get some first tracks in before the hordes arrive for Christmas and the New Year holiday. If you have a bit of nerve, access to the Internet on the move, a hire car and somewhere to stay, you can have a skiing experience that will never fade from the memory.
Certainly our three-man party – myself, photographer David Morgan and fellow journalist Phil Griffin – won’t forget our whistle-stop tour of the Alps, during which we skied in France on Monday, Switzerland on Tuesday and Italy on Wednesday before getting two more days in France before flying home with a week left to do the Christmas shopping!
The mechanics of the trip were relatively simple. We located an apartment in the village of Argentière in the Chamonix Valley, booked three return flights from Bristol to Geneva with Easyjet and picked up a hire car when we landed. An hour and a half later we had dumped our bags in the flat and retired to the nearby Office Bar to plan day one of our tour.
Having checked the Chamonix website in advance (www.chamonix.com) we knew a limited number of runs were open in the Grand Montets area roughly two minutes drive from our base. After a leisurely breakfast, and a quick trip across the road to replace some of last season’s worn out kit, we motored down to the lift pass office and bought a day ticket for the Grand Montets area.
Okay, the skiing was a little limited, but the place wasn’t exactly crowded either. By the end of the day we were on nodding acquaintance with most of the other skiers on the mountain. But there was more than enough snow to keep us occupied for around five hours, including a 2km red run down the mountain back to the main gondola. Just the thigh-burning exercise needed to get the ski legs working again. And with a discounted lift pass costing 24 euros – less than £17 at the rate of exchange – who was complaining. Not us as we weaved down virtually deserted slopes.
From our pre-trip research we already knew that Crans Montana (www.crans-montana.ch) and Verbier (www.4vallees.ch) across the border in Switzerland had been open since the last week of November. Over dinner in the Stone Bar on Monday night we opted for Verbier as it was a shorter drive. Argentière is barely 15 minutes’ drive from the frontier and from there it is a short hop to Martingy, where we picked up the E62 and headed east to Verbier Verbier styles itself as the Four Vallees, although when we visited only one of them was open and that was somewhat restricted. But we were able to get almost 3000 metres up the mountain to the Col des Gentianes and explore the reds and blues that had already been bashed in readiness for the start of the season proper. If we needed any reminder that Verbier was getting ready for the season we got it approaching a coffee stop at La Chaux when a maintenance worker skied past us carrying an extendable ladder over his shoulder!
During five hours slope time we skied everything worth skiing several times – plus one stone-littered run we probably should have avoided after the first sortie – and came off the mountain well satisfied. The worst part of the day was the drive home, particularly the leg down the mountain back to the E62 behind what seemed like every road-mender’s truck in Switzerland, although a provisioning stop at the Co-op just outside Verbier lifted our spirits as the prices were less than across the border in France.
Our dining options in Argentière were a little limited that night as the ‘official’ opening of the resort wasn’t for another four days. We ate well in La Rencarde – which has the benefit of a wireless Internet connection which laptops can be hooked up to for a quick check of the following day’s options. Over tartiflette, a few beers and an entertaining chat with a group of Parisian window cleaners in the village doing some sprucing-up work, we settled on Courmayeur as the destination for day three. If it’s Wednesday, it must be Italy… A quick check on the worldwide web (www.courmayeur.com) confirmed the lifts had been running since November 25 and there was enough snow around for 80 per cent of the pistes to be open. Well worth the trip then. When the weather is right and the right lifts are open you can ski from Courmayeur to Chamonix.
We weren’t that lucky and had to drive through the Monte Blanc tunnel, which was no great hardship as the entrance on the French side was within 15 minutes of our apartment. The 38 euro return toll was a bit of a shock, but less than half an hour after setting off we were getting lost in and around Courmayeur trying to find either the main lift station or one that was open. Another shock was the cost of a day ticket at nearly 37 euros, but we were told the mountain was almost fully open so why quibble? The pain of parting with our cash was quickly eased by the lift-station attendant holding the gondola for us to lumber through the turnstiles and round to the door. Bet he doesn’t do that during February half-term week.
The Courmayeur website was spot on. Having got up to Plan Chercrouit, and stowed our gear in lockers at the Noleggio ski shop and headed for the top of the hill. Two lifts later we emerged at Cresta Youla with two stunning views to drink in. On the left was the awesome sight of Mont Blanc. Immediately ahead of us was a wide-open red run and not another skier in sight. It was deserted. At times like that you really appreciate the magic of the mountains. We gorged ourselves all day at Courmayeur until there was nothing left to ski. Before lunch we skied the Chercrouit side of the piste map. After an excellent – and surprisingly inexpensive lunch at the mini-resort of Plan Chercrouit halfway up the mountain, we followed local advice and switched to the Val Venny side.
By the time we dragged ourselves reluctantly off the mountain and back to our hire car, it was starting to get dark. Could it get any better? We didn’t think so. But by Friday we had to admit we were wrong. Day four took us down the Chamonix Valley and on to Megève where we had an unexpected bonus of free lift passes. True there were only a handful of lifts to take advantage of as the resort wasn’t fully up and running yet. But it was a nice gesture by the lift company and went some way towards getting over the 26 euro bill for two cups of coffee each and one cake between the three of us during a walk around town.
The Rothschild banking dynasty had a lot do with the emergence of Megève as a winter resort around 80 years ago. Judging from the coffee shop prices in the town and the restaurant menus on the mountain, it pays to be a well-heeled banker to go there. With only half-a-dozen runs open, we had our fill of Megève not long after lunch and wound our way back down through St Gervais to Argentière and an early night in the bar planning our fifth and final excursion. A casual conversation the previous night in the Rusticana bar with a couple from Scotland had tipped us off that there was great skiing to be had at Les Houches (www.leshouches.com) where almost all the marked pistes were open.
The chance to have a crack at the Kandahar – the black run used for Men’s World Cup round in February – made our minds up for us. It snowed all night and was still coming down the following day when we loaded up our trusty VW Golf estate and pointed it towards Les Houches and the Bellevue lift station. There was fresh powder to be had and we couldn’t wait to get our ski tips in it. Courmayeur was good. But Les Houches was better. Round and round we went on semi-deserted pistes with the powder coming up to the top of our boots. With tree-lined pistes and charming mountain huts to stop at – one reminded me of an old-fashioned British transport café with its smoke-filled interior and reasonable prices – it was a day to remember for all the right reasons.
After a late lunch at La Cousna restaurant next to the Bellevue gondola, and a delightful chat with a father and daughter from Marseilles, there was just time to squeeze in two more runs – the last one down the Kandahar to finish on the highest of highs.
Back in the summer when we started planning our pre-Christmas excursion, fellow skiers of our acquaintance were quick to tell us we were mad heading for the Alps in the second week of December. We proved them wrong with a bit of careful planning. My advice to anyone thinking of following in our ski tracks is to do the same. Head for Geneva on a cheap flight then pick up a car at the airport. We covered almost 500km during our six-day stay and it was worth its weight in gold to us. Use the Internet before you go, to see where the snow is and find accommodation, and have some way of logging on when you get there. We had laptops with mobile phone connections, but it probably would have been much cheaper to use computers in bars and restaurants. And don’t be put off by people who say it is a ‘crackpot’ idea. Those same people were the most jealous ones when they listened to our stories when we got back. As for the cost, we paid about £75 each for flights, around £300 split three ways for our hire car and £250 for our apartment. Lift passes were generally discounted and – even with Courmayeur included – it cost us less than £75 for the week. Wining and dining accounted for around £100 each. Total cost per head was around £425 and it was worth every penny.
Conrad, David and Phil flew with Easyjet from Bristol to Geneva (www.easyjet.com), hired their car from Europcar (www.europecar.ch) and stayed in accommodation found via (www.mediaski.com).
I have passed the turning to St Foy many times over the years on my annual pilgrimage to Tignes or Val d’Isere but never given it a second thought. In December of 2005, I was given a taster of its delights.
After finding the cheapest flight from the Midlands to the Alps - that being Fly Thompson from a cattle shed they call Coventry airport to Leon for £48 (inc taxes), we arrived at the Leon car rental at 9.40am French time. Three of us hired a Renault Kango that looked like a bile-green bread van – ugly, but oh so practical, and we were soon on our way. Two and a half hours later were had passed through Bourg St Maurice and were just about to turn past La Thuile to Sainte Foy.
First impression of the village was it was very French; pretty little houses in classic local stone and wood style. You could not really tell where the Village turns into Ski resort. We stopped off at the supermarket, later found to be the only one, for those essentials of milk, eggs, teabags and (surprisingly) English bacon. The guys, being hungry, also grabbed one of the rotisserie chickens filling the outside air with smells that could not be resisted. Across the way was the tourist office, where we were welcomed and exchanged 104 Euros for lift passes.
There we were given a report on the snow conditions: No new white stuff for three days but plenty of powder all the way down to the village. A short drive up the hill, past the ubiquitous Premier Neige chalets, saw us at the chalet Col Du Mont Half an hour later we were out of the chalet and straight on to the blue slope down to the chair. Whilst waiting for my colleagues, I had a quick look round and saw the usual meeting places for ski school and two free magic carpet lifts being used enthusiastically by a handful of children. The nearest restaurant, situated at the base of the home run, looked busy - with mostly French families eating out on its sun terrace.
A quick look the board indicated we were at 1550 and the top lift was at 2620. Don’t let this low start height put you off though - the resort has an uncanny habit of holding powder-type snow. The guys arrived after stopping to pick up a crepe for pudding and we were off on the first lift. You have probably gathered now that we are not rush-around-types, but are little more leisurely. - In fact only I could actually ski, my pals were boarders - but we had all decided to snowboard on this trip to take advantage of the powder.
At the first station There are two restaurants at the intersection of three main runs - a blue , a red and a red mogul field. We only ever used one of the restaurants though, as it was in direct line off the lift and all the resort staff seemed to use it. The plate du jour was always good, followed by a pichet of red, and some cheese for myself and cake for the others. Well it was cheap and we were on holiday! It was one of these lunch times during our mingling with the resort staff that we discovered the Joys of Genepy (what a pretty little flower). And the fact that the village was growing fast as dutch builders cash in on the demand for traditional-style but very modern accommodation. With only three lifts , a fourth is due in 2006 - you could be fooled into thinking the skiable terrain is limited. This could be true if you are not even ever so slightly adventurous and wished to stay on piste for the whole week. From the top station there are only two marked runs down - a red and a black. I must admit not doing either all the way down as the off-piste is inviting, vast accessible and easy. The off-piste area is marked and you could start doing the easy routes down to the second chair then progress up to the Traverse and the longer routes to the bottom lift. Although long, it would be difficult to get lost as all routes seem to lead back on to piste or itineraries straight back to village. This is what is so good about St Foye: you can be adventurous but still feel safe. There are several routes that we didn't get time to do as they required a guide and they are very long.
The run to Monal is apparently a classic. We intend to go out in March to do all the itineraries especially now we have shared a bottle of sloe gin with a friendly ski Instructor who owns the Iceberg Bar in the village. We took two days out to visit the Espace Killy and Le Paradiski areas. Although extensive, the snow in both resorts was tracked and icy when compared to St Foy, which is clearly down to the number of people using the slopes. We never queued for a singe lift, compared to Val, and twice in the week we saw both the Val d’Isere and Tignes race teams practicing here.
Overall, St Foy is a great place to have as a base, especially if you have car as Tignes, Val, Les Arcs and La Plagne are all within 20 minutes. But I warn you: like us you will be spoilt by the unhurried atmosphere, empty pistes and excellent snow of St Foy and will end up returning.
Criticisms? Limited piste skiing, but what there is is good and un-crowded. At 3pm we were finding sections of piste that were still groomed. There is a shortage of nightlife, although there are four bars and live music at weekends. Following early apres ski and a sauna, dinner, we shared the driving and traveled into Val for party nights. Our group stayed at chalet Col Du Mont, a private chalet owned by Nick www.skisainte-foy.com It sleeps 12 and has a sauna - most importantly is ski to door. The Official Resort web site is www.saintefoy.net
ST Anton is a serious skiers' paradise - there are miles of testing runs and, if you feel the need to venture elsewhere, the lift pass entitles you to ski in the upmarket villages of Lech and Zurs.
After many years of skiing in first Italy and then France, it was my first foray into Austria, and what an eye opener it was. From the time we hit Innsbruck airport, Austria was an example of efficiency and was no more expensive than France - even in the mountains. The locals are friendly, keen that you enjoy their village and, for someone who can manage a stilted conversation in French but can only manage a round of beers in German, what was even better was that almost everyone speaks perfect English! Ski hire was a bar-coded dream "try different skis every day if you like, but these should ensure you keep up with your husband!"
proved good advice. Even the highest mountain loos were much more than a hole in the ground!
Wilma Himmelfreundpointner, deputy director of the St Anton tourism office, advised us to make the most of the sun - and for three days we did, all the while wishing for some snow to cover the icy patches. Best runs included the reds down to Stuben, highlighted by a lengthy run down a marked off-piste skiroute, which our boarder friend Wayne encouraged us to try, “it's only a red”.
Rechecking the piste map that night confirmed, as we had feared, that the route was an extreme black! A great run down Happy Valley, a long blue after a drop down black 10, suited every skier in our group. But, be warned, it gets very busy in the afternoon. Best start, and finish, early and head for either the Krazy Kangaruh or, for some real Austrian apres ski, the Mooserwirt and prepare to boogie in your ski gear. Don't forget though you will have to ski back down the home run to St Anton village at 8pm when both bars shut.
The chance for a turn down the Olympic Bobsleigh run in Igls, with a medal-winning driver behind the wheel, proved well worth the bus ride. The run is only open for eight weeks each year - if you get the chance go - it’s great. Overnight on Tuesday we had our wish for snow and enjoyed some great powder on the Rendlebahn the next day - again the marked ski routes saw low-risk, off-piste fun. Thursday was a truly black day and shedloads of soft powder kept both skiers and boarders happy.
Downside was the rain at village level but we only stopped there for lunch and soon headed upwards again - and later back to the Mooserwirt. Snow continued and, with added wind, Friday was almost a white out. Twenty-minute queues for the main cable car led to mid-station and only a black down - and that after crossing a stretch of mountain so windy we thought we may be blown off - if only we could see where the edge was!
Once over the side, it was possible to see the lovely piste. As a friendly instructor pointed out to a female skier in our group: “It is very romantic,” before adding: “are you here with your husband?."
Lunch in a log cabin, fire blazing, with thick snow falling outside was romantic, but the skiing after lunch was tricky and we soon called it a day. St Anton is a great skiers’ resort - and there is a great well-being centre with sauna, steam room and indoor/outdoor heated pool if you fancy the afternoon off. Be warned though, no cossies in the sauna. But I wouldn't advise the resort for beginners or small children unless booked into the excellent ski school. A first-timer in our group found it very testing and much preferred the wider, groomed blues of Lech. It is not that there aren't plenty of blues in St Anton but they do get busy, mainly in the afternoon, as all head for the apres ski. Ah well, as we sang in the Mooserwirt, "Que sera, sera..."
To find out more about St Anton visit http://www.stantonski.co.uk/ or contact the tourist office on: info@stantonamarlberg.com Our party stayed in a Crystal chalet but check out the glorious Hotel Alteposte in the town centre.
God, was I really nearly 50 – seems only yesterday that I was a young bloke without a care in the world, racing around on motorbikes. I decided I had to do something special to mark this major (somewhat depressing) landmark in my life.
Ask anyone who knows me or who has met me at a party and they will probably tell you I am a real ski bore. Not exactly Franz Klammer, but pretty nifty (for 50!!) on reds and the occasional black, provided there’s no ice and I do not have a bad head from the night before. Off-piste is not my real forte, but somehow over the years I have earned the name of Powder Phil – probably partly due to the number of times I have head-planted in the stuff and ended up resembling a yeti.
For years I had read and heard about this magical place called the Valley Blanche. At 18k long, it’s the longest off-piste in Europe that your average red run skier can do without serious risk to life and limb (hmm, I’ll tell you about that later!!). A bit of ringing round the guys and it was booked. We were going to Chamonix in the French Alps – home of some of the world’s greatest mountaineers and that incredible piece of nature called Mont Blanc (Monte Bianco, if you’re on the Italian side).
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The more research I did on the web, the more I realised that the Valley Blanche was going to be something we would never forget. First of all, I had to pre-book a mountain/ski guide – it’s the sort of place where you should not venture without a guide!! Ice falls, crevasses and the minor (in my case, not so minor) walk across an arête to the start of the valley. If you are not aware of mountaineering phrases, an arête in this case is like walking along a knife-edge with massive drops at each side… I sourced a guide through Icicle Mountaineering based in Chamonix – and it was all systems go.
My actual 50th was at the start of December, but the valley cannot be skied with any reliability until February-March – it’s best to take advice before booking your holidays. We plumped for the first week in March 2007. The four of use flew into Chamonix from different parts of England and met for the first beer (or two or three) in the Park Hotel Suisse, which would be our base for the week. We had been advised that it was not sensible to ski the Valley Blanche in your first days in the Alps because of the thin air. So we decided to ski the valley on the Thursday, giving us plenty of time to get our ski legs and acclimatise.
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Anyone who has been Chamonix will tell you that the ski resort is rather spread out and not exactly user friendly compared to some purpose-built resorts, but, hey, this is a special place. It’s beautiful and dominated on all sides by incredible mountains – topped off, of course, by Mont Blanc. Before we knew it, it was Wednesday night. We had to go to the Icicle HQ that night for a briefing and run through of safety techniques – hmm, I now started to realise that it was not going to be a straightforward ski through the valley – it really was going to be something very special. Thursday morning arrived – but so did the strong winds. The mobile bleeped – message: “Valley closed today due to strong winds – not possible to stand up – will try again tomorrow.” God, what if the weather was bad tomorrow? We would not be able to achieve our goal – my goal!
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We need not have worried. Friday morning arrived. The alarm rang, I pulled back the curtains – wall-to-wall sunshine with clear skies and no wind. Perfect! At Icicle HQ, we were greeted by the owners and met our guide, Benoir. They ran through the safety procedures again, we logged the mountain rescue numbers into our mobiles (hmm) and Benoir helped us into our harnesses! A short stroll and we were in the queue for the lift to the top of the Aig du Midi – the entrance to the Valley Blanche.
The ride up was amazing. As well as being the longest single span cable car in Europe, it floats over incredible scenery: ice falls, snow fields… When you arrive at the top of the cable, there’s a walk across an enclosed iron bridge from one peak to the next – the start of the real adventure. You walk through a maze of tunnels within the mountain and can take a lift to the very top of the peak, which has a weather station/tele mast. When you first walk out of the lift onto the top of the peak, you find yourself on a circular gantry offering incredible views – you are at the TOP OF THE WORLD. There in front of you is Mont Blanc. You feel as though you could almost touch it. It’s the mountain which made some mountaineers famous but also ended some lives, too. It’s the mountain my mate Greg Gough climbed with the Royal Marines – and where his glove blew away as they took pictures to celebrate a successful summit.
Things started to get serious when we descended into the warren of tunnels below. Guide Benior suddenly took on a professional air. This is where he started to earn his money. Alan, Andy, Colin and I lined up while Benior slotted a rope into our harnesses to join us all together. “We work as team, now,” said Benoir. “All for one and one for all,” someone joked. Benoir kept his business head on. “Anyone afraid of heights?” he asked. It was here that I decided to come clean – and put up my hand. I love skiing, but I hate heights. “You’d best be next to me,” says Benoir, offering some reassurance. I couldn’t help but think that there were three guys in front me – all weighing more than me. And certainly weighing more than Benoir and me put together. Sod it, you only live once!!
Once outside, I realised why we were roped. Yes, there was the arête in front of us. Wide enough to take one person. A set of iron posts linked together with heavy rope. A drop of thousands of metres at one side and a vertical drop straight back down to Chamonix at the other (hmm). There was a second route across the arête. Steps had been cut into one of the faces of the arête and this was the route we took. We inched our way down the steps, with me clinging tightly to the thick rope attached to the ice face. I tried not to look down, but there was one point where you turn and so I had no option. Sharp intake of breath… After what seemed like any eternity, Benoir smiles and says: “You can relax now.” We had made it.
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We were on a wide piste at the entrance to the valley – a descent of 2,700m and around 18 k long. Off came the rope and suddenly the real pleasure was to start. Wow! In front of us was the widest expanse of snow I had ever seen. Pure powder, pure manageable powder. “Stick close to me,” says Benoir. “There are some hidden crevasses…”
It didn’t take Benoir long to work out we were a mixed ability group and he guided at the speed of the slowest. Perfect. He’d stop at ice blocks the size houses, show us crevasses with ice blue colours, point out ice falls. He was ever so patient. He wanted us to take everything in – he knew we were in a special ice wilderness. Various tracks disappeared into the distance. Occasionally, we came across another small group of skiers with a guide. Everyone of them had a beaming smile. Benoir knew the names of the mountains and took great delight in telling us which ones he had climbed. A man of the mountains, he had hands like shovels. They had had a hard life and he was still young!
Around lunchtime, Benior steered us towards a track cut by skiers across the face of steep slope. We could see in the distance a small rock outcrop and, as we got closer, we picked out it was a mountain restaurant – what a place to get to in the morning to start work, I thought. After a hearty meal of traditional Savoie food, Benoir picked up his rucksack and produced a birthday cake. Truly the icing on the cake!
After a well-earned rest and having taken in gluggs of water, we set off for the final part of the run. Down we dropped on perfect snow towards the valley end. Legs started to tire, but this was fantastic. Suddenly, Benoir stopped and perched on his ski poles. Out came a pair of binoculars. For ages he studied a mountain face and then he explained there was an unclimbed route – and he was planning it as soon as there was a weather window. We looked through the binoculars. Perhaps he was mad, but we were starting to understand he was in fact ALIVE!
All too soon the valley end arrived. It was then we realised the effects of global warming. The glacier we had been skiing on had eroded to such an extent that the cable car out of the valley was now four or five long staircases away – higher! As we trudged wearily up the steps, we were all tired but smiling. Those smiles lasted for hours. We climbed aboard a train back to the nearest village – where we quickly down a few well-earned beers. Unless you have been to the Valley Blanche, you will never understand the thrills and excitement of being in a truly magnificent place. Huge pictures now hang proudly on my walls at home – along with a cap. We all bought one. The caps are emblazoned with a picture of Mont Blanc. No, we hadn’t conquered Europe’s highest peak, but we felt we knew how it must feel – in our own way! So go there, ski it, enjoy it. Prove to yourself that you are ALIVE!