My first adventure was very ambitious. Oh, I had already been travelling extensively for life, business and fun, but that had become a well worn rut and honestly, I felt ignorant and globally uneducated.
This trip started in Brisbane and after a bum numbing flight via Perth, my Etihad flight landed in Abu Dhabi at dawn. Then a luxury coach dropped me at a metro station in Dubai, and a quick ride put me opposite the MEGA “Mall of the Emirates” and the Dubai Indoor ‘Snow Resort’?
Actually I’m a fan of indoor ski slopes and highly recommend them for…dusting storage rust off your edges, fine tuning new ski boots, revisiting unused body movements and generally preparing yourself for your next ‘real ski’ on fresh snow. (globally, there are some good ones about).
With my race boots in my ya ya pack I arrived at the check-in and asked for my pre ordered ‘Slalom style’ skis, arranged with their management… NO Clue! “but we do have these”…10 year old junk Rossi models!
As I was on a 2 hour time slot, (at a $100 bucks) I reluctantly accepted, and scrambled up the escalator to the ‘experienced – expert’ slopes?
BUT the main chairlift wasn’t running, and as the beginner poma was short and flat, only one decent lift was available to me?
Worst of all, my skis didn’t slide…having dry bases and NO wax. Complaining to the service desk didn’t resolve this critical issue and being a busy Saturday… of course, NO management?
Then a Brit “expat” ski coach started setting up a Slalom course on the only slope with a pitch. (Although the sign said ‘Race training from 11am’). After explaining the predicament he stopped, removed the gates and then offered me some ski wax. Nice!
At eleven I pulled the plug, dumped my rubbish Rossi 10 year old skis and settled for an expensive and tasteless ‘cuppusomething’ coffee.
Enjoying Dubai with my Metro day pass was fun and a visit to the glimmering Bury Kahalifa (a 160 story spire) was mesmerising, and a reminder of how grossly opulent the Emirates are. Enough, I then caught a river ferry to the Old City (Bastakiya) and immersed myself in their Arabic history, culture, and art in the restored Souks.
I finished my day with a delicious Emerati snack n’ juice in the stylish and calming XVA. Art Hotel. (stay there). Then caught the Metro back to the Etihad bus terminal and a comfortable ride back to Abu Dhabi International.
Arriving in Paris early is a good move. As a Big ski bag and the push and shove of Charles de Gaulle is suffocating, soon I was on the local train to Gare du Nord and my close-by Hotel-Hostel “Vintage”.
My forced 3 day quarantine was in-fact a result of EasyJet cancelling my flight to Marrakech and only offering me a seat three days latter. Not so bad, as it is “the city of Loove”.
The bag-drag was quick as it was raining and the welcome at Vintage was very stylishly Parisian. A small simple room, and eclectic travellers lurking around the foyer and lounge, purrr…fect.
Being near the hip ‘Canal District’ of Pariee I took off, then was joined by a younger chick who had been bopping about in the foyer. We wandered and waffled, fashion and food, finishing the social day sipping Lillet Spritz with delicious morsels on Rue Beaurepaire.
Even I like shopping in Paris. Although, at times it’s a little bourgeois, but a great way to spend a day surrounded by ‘pretty young things’ and perhaps scoring a fashion statement.
Galleries LaFayette was a good start as they were having their annual Monster Ski Sale… and eventually a civilised coffee and croissant under the gorgeousness of the Coupole, gave me calm.
Returning to Canal Saint-Martin provided retro n’chick window shopping and eventually a tasty supper in a squeezy-tight, Bistrot-bar.
EasyJet to Marrakech was everything but easy! Fortunately I had discussed my large oversized ski bag with EasyJet in London. “Yes they would accept it at NO charge” as they had cancelled my original flight booking. “No, you must pay the 75 euros” said the check-in Madame,…no possibility? “Ring the Marketing Director”, she did and he was in South Africa? Agreeing to my plight, Wallah, I was on board.
Marroc airport was crackers, with everybody waiting for bags and prepaid pickups.
After sprawling on my bag for an hour (as you do) my house taxi found me, eventually dropping ‘moi’ inside the Medina and near Riad Jennah Rouge.
WoW! It is very Marroc chick, colourful, funky and bursting with Arabic style, and the laid back service made my stay comfortable and very social.
Shopping in the Medina is tough, and they want you money! I got lost twice in the specialised ethnic Souks towards the back, and pressured often (not) while I visually gorged myself in colour and the amazingly creative and traditional arts.
Snacks, drinks, friendliness (WARNING) always with a motive, and beautiful ‘stuff’ is endless. Tip…(shop at Complexe Artisanal) and talk to the working artists, then explore the pick of their best modern and ethnic goods with no hassle.
Skiing in Morocco was my goal, but it was so skinny at Oukaimeden there were no buses nor share Grand-Taxi’s ‘off their rank’ to get there?
I went to the beach…at Essaouira, a fun and an interesting day out…(even goats in trees?) and real Argon oils.
Eventually it snowed, then everything travelling over the Atlas Mountains ground to a halt, including our ‘squashed’ Grand Taxi in the resort village.
The boulders were big and the snow wistfully entwined down the singular slope. After one run I changed my skis for a rental pair and finally conclude my Marroc Ski Safari on the back of a donkey to avoid the slush and grit at the base.
Hey, it was real and I will return…BUT the Marrakesh Express was waiting and skiing in the Sierra Nevada in Spain was teasing me.
There was no fight (ak. Bond’s Spectre movie) but the overnight journey was surreal for me, on a bench seat-bed and with my ski bag for company.
Arriving at Tanger was exasperating, which station to get off at, where is the Ferry and most of all how much is a Taxi, or can I Drag-Bag, as Dirham is useless above the Straights of Gibraltar. In good humour a Taxi driver took what Moroccan cash I had, then it was the fast ferry to Tarifa in Spain.
The interconnecting bus zoomed past Gibraltar, stopped at Malaga, and finally arrived in Granada. After a casual down hill drag-bag I stood out side the imposing Santa Iglesia Catedral, and behind was the stunning “Lemon hotel-hostel” Rock Bar.
That’s Me!
Skiing in Sierra Nevada is interesting and it has surprisingly good terrain and pitch,but with No trees. It’s an easy day trip from Grenada or even Malaga but I recommend staying at the resort centre in Pradollano.
I walked to my ski in-out digs on top of the very steep switch-backed terrace, which can also be accessed from the base (2100m) by the Paradori ski lift.
Pradollano is a full on International resort and the top T Bar Laguna tops out at about 3 200m, to a steep, hard n’ fast piste.
Its all very Spanish, social, popular, fun and the views south to the Med. are spectacular. Ski and Ride during the week is best, then indulge in the resort siesta from 12- 3pm, when only the lifts, bars and restaurants are open!
Worn n’ comfy Montblanc Hotel is my pick in the village but the Telecabina BnB in the base building is spectacularly central. Or try the lux Ziryab 3 star Hotel.
My booking on VUELING airways spoilt the fun. After 4 days I returned to the “Lemon Rock Bar” in Granada, did the Alhambra thing and packed my bags.
After an early flight, with no ski bag hassles (I am in Spain) the impressive marble walkways of Barcelona Airport were cooling and I was looking for the bus terminal to…Andorra la Vella.
It started by getting on the wrong bus, then humping my ya ya off, to find the right bus to use my pre booked ticket. (and it was Saturday, the chaos day for Brits scrambling via Barcelona to ‘not so cheap’ Andorra).
Barri Antic Pub&Hostel (I do find them) was a mission to locate, as the bus-stop locals had “no tengo” idea, or spoke English. It’s in the Old Village and after exhausting up hills, down indoor escalators and dragging the bag, this classic euro Bikers Bar with rooms welcomed me.
There are two Ski-Board regions in Andorra. West of the capital Andorra Villa is VALLNORD and North on the main highway is GRANVALIRA.
Skiing around the trees at the day resort of Ordino Arcalis was a great warm up, and then tricky snow on the Free Ride slopes off the Creussan chair reminded me why the FreeRide World Tour uses this area to test the best.
Other resorts in the Vallnord region (with accommodation) are Pal and Arinsal.
My Las Lenas mate who works here as a coach assures me that theses are the more reliable slopes, offering good value and keep the snow due to the extensive tree cover.
Squashed between the two mountainous regions is the modern DUTY FREE Capital of Andorra Villa and it’s chocker with cheapish euro Snow Stuff, Restaurants and ‘heaving’ Brit Bars.
I stayed at El Tarter being a good base to ski the Grandvalira region and with steep enough slopes to hold the FIS. World Ladies G.S. and Combined ski championships.
5 star Hostel Tarter is a very modern concept, well located and is run smoothly by the owner Mar, and it’s over the road from the El Tarter ski base where I enjoyed tasty breakfasts in on-snow cafes, with a view.
After scooping the scene and the race hill on day one…Bingo, it bucketed down with neck gaiter cold pow, knee high and most off piste slopes were untouched.
Pinch me, it was great fluff and I enjoyed the ego conditions under washed denim skies for the next four days.
Passa De La Casa (famous for Lager Louts) is the most northern resort and is linked to Grau Roig, Soldeu and El Tarter by various Gondolas, chairs, and drag lifts.
Snow sports are popular in the Grandvalira region, including FreeRide and Slope style events, FIS.Races, and brave Speed Skiing above Grau Roig?
4.30 am is an early start, but the regular mini bus picked me up at five, and efficiently drove over Pas de la Cassa into France, ending at Gare Toulouse-Matabiau.
After a fast SNCF. trip to Gap, and then an agonisingly long stop, a local train finally ended my journey at Briancon, the historic gateway to the French Haute Alps.
It was snowing heavily and I could just see my Hotel de la Gare’s lights dimming through the drifting snow flakes. After a 100 yard dash n’drag and punching the door open… I tripped into the salon, much to the surprise of all ‘the locals’ hanging off the bar.
While dusting myself off, and with much French aplomb L’ proprietaire de bar put a beer in my hand to greet me, saying…”un timing parfait” tomorrow will be a powder day!
World Heritage listed Briancon is the axis to this region and the slopes accessed from the towns gondola are included as one of the four villages in the Serre Chevalier ski resort. They are all joined by an extensive lift system and by free buses travelling the valley floor. (or rent an electric car?).
I walked to the Prorel Gondola in my boots (with cat tracks of course) and was joined in the bubble with a couple of hard core looking Brits with pow pow skis. But my focus was the trails under the egg and the excellent tree cover back down to the base? It was fresh tracks and good viz all morning in light deep pow and on the consistently steepish red runs. Lunch was earned, and my self service Plat du jour at Chalet Pra Long reminded me I am now skiing in tasty France.
The powder orgie continued on the lower tree protected slopes and the runs down to to Chantemerle eventually exhausted my indulgence.
Each day the weather improved and I moved higher to focus on the upper slopes above the popular village Villeneuve and it’s groovy base scene.
Finishing, with a superb off piste day above Le Monetier and the long testing run from Pic de L’Yret to the bus stop in the pretty village.
Francois, (F.L.B.) my Marchand de Vin friend from Beaune joined me for the continuing journey, and to celebrate we crossed the boarder (a 10 min drive) and skied at Montgenevre in Italy. Of course this was really a ‘Lunch on the Hill’ with a ski from the car park, as Francois insisted the pasta taste’s better in Italy!
Our stay at Hotel de la Gare was very “Local” and good fun. And on the Saturday night when bombed by tourist’s waiting for the train I ended up as the ‘Garcon’ on the bistro floor? (if you’re a bit fussy, consider staying at Hotel Vauban near the gondola).
La Grave la Meije has a reputation! Some say it’s the best, others are intimidated?
It is a beautiful village, even with the road separating the classic mountain hotel-lodges with views and the “scrummy ” Boulangerie’s, Patisseries and Viennoiserie.
We stayed at hip n’ cool Gite Le Rocher. (100 metres from the famous Telepherique) and it’s definitely Haute Alp tasty.
Good snow, bad viss and no guide = two hacking runs down the front side, then up to the simple but fun Le Chazelet (2 lifts), a hamlet facing La Grave la Meije.
Aperitif’s set the scene for a rowdy diner. Francois produced his best wines and the Chef (with the help of the woof in the kitchen?) cooked a superb alpine feast for their guests and friends. And this provided the perfect end for my 1st Gypsy ski travels…
but wait there is more!
We dashed to Epernay for a meeting with the boutique Champagne House Lombard &Cie. It was all business, and some infighting with the new Sales director and the bemused n’cagy owner Thierry Lombard.
We spent the next day visiting the champagne vineyards which Lombard &Cie own and their exclusive Grand Cru grape suppliers estates.
Global marketing and sales opinions continued during a vertical champagne tasting in the cellars, and it was all over after a casual dinner in Epernay.
A dash to Dijon, then a quickish bus to Geneva put me at the ETIHAD counter and my departure back to Sydney.
Geneva Airport on a Saturday in the ski season is…CRAZY! (don’t do it).
Carefully I ensured my ski bag got on the right pile (there were plenty), then dashed through to the departure lounge for my boarding.
I waited, and waited, more that four hours, and eventually confronted the Etihad Concierge. “there are delays”…yardi yardi ya etc.etc… eventually we boarded the plane to wait another two hours before being told we will have to return to the terminal to disembark, and of course the Swiss Customs and Immigration had gone home!
Finally at 3 am and after much banging of fists and yelling by seriously agitated guests who had missed connecting flights, they announced “we will be going to selected hotels for the night and would be contacted individually, as we are waiting for parts from Abu Dahbi”?
The 5 Star INTERCONTINENTAL Geneve wasn’t too shabby, there was no room service but my late a la carte brunch was delicious.
Fast forward 24 hours and I arrived in Sydney, purchased another ticket to Melbourne and eventually arrived…more than exhausted, two days late!
Three days at the F.1.Grand Prix completed the indulgence and a direct flight to Proserpine delivered me home. Job done and more than FUN.
