A winter ski retreat
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A ski trip can be costly.
Once you factor in the travel, the resort, the ski pass, the skis, the kit and far too many glasses of warming après-ski wine, costs can easily creep over £2,000.
It’s no small sum — and according to studies, that figure’s on the rise.
Tesco Bank’s annual Ski Index, a report that looks at the resorts with the best ski-per-kilometre value, noted that almost without fail, the price of skiing has risen dramatically. Leading the pack was Bulgaria, once seen as the epicentre for cheap skiing. It increased a hefty 65.6 percent from last year. The USA shot up 28 percent and Canada 25.1 percent.
“We recognise that skiing and snowboarding holidays can be expensive,” said Will Curley, Tesco’s director of transactional banking when commenting on the report.
Yet people are still going. The same report noted that more than a third of people are considering a ski holiday for this year. Nearly half (42 percent) have their eyes on Switzerland.
In brief, the cost of skiing is increasing but the interest isn’t going anywhere.
So what’s the magical appeal of shimmying past snow-dipped trees and pristine mountains, all while two waxed sticks are strapped to your legs? Why do people do this expensive sport?
Danae Mercer travelled to the Swiss / French border to find out.
A journey to Morzine
Morzine, France, is one of those sleepy skiing villages that plumps up with people in the winter. Its main selling point for those in the know is that it’s in the heart of Portes du Soleil, a massive area with over 650m of pistes, 196 mountain lifts and 90 slope-side restaurants. These wind between wooded paths, varying from the gentlest of beginners’ slopes to wild off-piste routes, all with Mont Blanc in the distance.
It’s here, in the charming hamlet of Les Prodains, that Au Coin du Feu chalet waits between snow-topped mountains. And it’s here, in my quest to understand skiing, that I go.
Au Coin du Feu is a 17-room chalet, done all in dark wood facades and sloped roofs. A massive fireplace dominates the open-plan living/dining room, and to one side a guests-only bar bustles before dinner. There’s an upstairs seating area with plush leather couches, a pool table and games. A hot tub steams outside.
With an onsite crèche for babies and toddlers, a kid’s skiing school, a nanny programme and large family-friendly rooms, Au Coin du Feu’s makes a deliberate effort to attract (admittedly mid- to upper-class) families.
When I meet founder and co-owner Francesca Eyre on my first day, it’s easy to understand why. Francesca, a lean ball of athletic energy, fell in love with Morzine over 20 years ago. It’s where she met her husband Paul, grew her business, and raised her family.
A love for the mountains runs in the family, and this chalet, with its wedding invitations and family portraits framed on wooden walls, feels like a high-end second home. Over cups of tea — cocoa is also available — Francesca tells me about her daughter’s damaged downhill ski helmet. Later that night, she invites me along for vigorous cross-country skiing. It’s all warm and not forced and delightfully cosy.
In the end, I don’t join Francesca, a woman who would no doubt leave me in her (snow) dust. I meet with Doorstep Skis instead. The equipment company come to the chalet, fit my skis, boots and helmet, then nestle the shoes on a warming rack. I have definitely arrived in mountain country.
Learning to ski
The main bubble lift to Avoriaz is a five-minute walk from Au Coin du Feu. It’s possible to ski the entire way there (and later in the week I see guests doing exactly that), but as a novice who is still struggling to even hold her skis, I walk.
Over the course of the week I study with Avoriaz Alpine Ski School, a great father-son company with one-on-one lessons. The personalised service is exceptional. By the first day, I move off the green run and begin gently sliding down some of the broader blue slopes, of which Avoriaz has plenty. Later I try Ecole du Ski Francais. The price tag is lower but the group size larger, and while training with other friendly novices is fun, I miss the attention of a dedicated instructor. I go back to Avoriaz Alpine. More advanced skiers can shoot down the mountain side on the fresh powder of off-piste slopes. A friend of mine does exactly that. “I spent half the time hugging the trees, but they tell me the wooded areas have lower avalanche risk,” she says. The dedicated can ski the Swiss Wall, a black-run descent from France to Switzerland. Unsurprisingly, I stick primarily to the blue.
The sun sets
Every night, aching and cold, I return to the chalet for dinner. The plates are hearty, all hefty cuts of meat, crusty bread and chocolatey desserts. And the conversation are easy — aided, no doubt, by several glasses of wine sipped in the hot tub outside. Quite cleverly, Chilly Powder organises a ‘pre-dinner’ dinner for the guests’ many children. The result is that by the time evening cocktails happen, kids are already in bed.
On Wednesday, the staff’s night off, I head into town with the same off-piste friend. We stop at a bar for drinks and music but call it quits quite early. In this charming part of France, it’s more family than après ski.
That suits us just fine. Sitting beside the chalet’s roaring fire, eating, drinking and swapping stories about the day, feels a little bit like a cosy Alpine heaven.
I’m starting to understand the appeal of skiing.
Details
Chilly Powder’s Au Coin du Feu winter prices start from £465 with variations depending on the week. chillypowder.com
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