The Lady - That's snow business
Date of publication: 28 January 2008
It is late in the afternoon and the sun is low in the sky, yet a few rays still shine through the windows of the log cabin where I sit. An open fire gives forth a warming blaze and a steaming cup of vin chaud (mulled wine) is a soothing tonic. I am in need of one, having just spent the last half-an-hour in a convoy racing uphill behind the handlebars of an unforgiving skidoo.
To all intents and purposes I am here in Chamonix on a group skiing holiday. Indeed, I have spent the morning and early afternoon enjoying the motorway runs of the Brévent area, brushing up on my technique under the watchful eye of Oli, my instructor.
As I am beginning to learn, however, there is far more to the area of the Mont Blanc Massif than its slopes. There is little time to reflect as Dean, our host from Pollen-Brooks Leisure, tells us to get ready for the next “adventure”.
Stepping out into the crisp air I think to myself that I would be more than happy to stay where I am. The log cabin, Le Refuge de Tournieux, nestles on a verge and is bordered by imposing rock faces speckled with snow. Mont Blanc towers in the distance, its majesty tempered only by a beret of cloud which balances comically on its summit.
The whole valley is blanketed is snow which, where I am standing, is up to my ankles. A childish streak in me is tempted to drop to the ground and make a snow angel, but I am distracted by the throbbing hum of a helicopter that has just appeared over the brow of the hill. This, I realise, is the next adventure.
Five minutes later I am what seems like miles up in the air, whizzing towards Mont Blanc. The noise of the propellers prevents any of us from talking, but the ecstatic smiles on everyone’s faces say it all. The helicopter dips and dives dramatically through the valley. We pass over the Olympic downhill ski run and get a great view of Mont Blanc and the spiky Aiguille de Midi (“the neddle”) on our right. Finally, we land back on the slopes, much to the amazement of skiers and snowboarders nearby.
The fun is not over as we don our skis and set off to do the last runs of the day, even taking in a small mountain track which is my first off-piste experience.
The track ends at a small dairy, where I rejoin some of the non-skiers in our group. It is clear that the skidoo and helicopter rides have been more than enough to entertain those who are not comfortable on the slopes, while the ski bunnies among us feel we have had more than our money’s worth. We all agree the experience has been very James Bond.
It is now evening and time to relax back at our accommodation, the Hamlets of Chalets Philippe, on the outskirts of Chamonix. A cluster of seven snow-covered Hansel and Gretel-esque chalets, built and furnished individually by their owner, Philippe Courtines, they are a truly unique place to stay. There is even a lamp-post in the centre of the properties giving the impression that we are in our own personal Narnia.
Each chalet has a name. Mine, Les Barattes, is a sweet little chocolate-box of a building consisting of a kitchen with a range on the ground floor and two further floors with an en-suite bedroom on each. There are modern touches, such as the internet, television and a power shower to soothe away the day’s exertions, but the real appeal is the charming 17th-century furniture, including an exquisitely carved child’s bed in one corner.
The historic touch is apparent all through the property, no more so than in the dining-room of one of the main chalets, Les Trolles. Later that evening, after we have enjoyed an outdoor Jacuzzi, a visit to the Hammam (steam room) and a massage, Philippe points out the giant cowbells hanging above us as we sit down to dinner, specially prepared by our own chef. The roasted quail’s breast with lemongrass froth and rack of lamb with red berry jus and dauphinois potatoes are particularly memorable, just two items in our nine-course feast. It is a good thing we are going back on the slopes after all.
Further tuition with Oli means that I get the best out of my stay in Chamonix. “It’s all about balance,” he says, with a wink, but I frown sceptically – as an intermediate skier, this all sounds rather obvious – but Oli’s tips work wonders and I come away from my time in Chamonix without my usual trademark bruises. We tackle reds and blacks, and do a few “carving” exercises (which involve using the edge of the skis to turn) on some gentler blues.
Later in my stay I am confident enough to ski, guided, in the world-renowned Les Grandes Montets, a mixture of off-piste runs in mountain bowls and glaciated terrain as well as graded red and black runs. The north-facing slopes and high altitude – the top lift is at 10,800 feet (3,300 meters) means it is a chilly experience, but the snow keeps well here and the 6,900-foot (2,100-metre) descent makes for an exhilarating, if thigh-burning, day.
The combination of excellent skiing, alternative snow activities, fine dining and appealing accommodation have made this trip much more than the average ski holiday.
One of our group has already decided to come back on a romantic break at the Chalets Philippe, and there are murmurs from others in the group about future Christmas holidays with the family – the separate chalet buildings mean that everyone can have their own space if they wish. I must admit I am tempted by the prospect of moonlit husky driving, extreme helicopter rides (all available from the Pollen-Brooks portfolio) and more gourmet cooking – as well as the skiing, of course.
All in all, I think a holiday here would be just perfect as a way of celebrating a special occasion, and I cannot wait to come back. I just have to work out whose birthday is next.