|
|
|
|
Today in the life of a travel writer
When I tell people I’m a travel writer, it invariably sparks some gentle abuse followed by a series of questions about how I get away with being paid for being “on holiday”. I frequently think I have the best job in the world, but budding travel writers be warned: it’s a career that pays more handsomely in experience than cash.
The travel editor of a national newspaper hit the nail on the head when he described travel writers as “Champagne paupers” – when I'm researching a feature abroad, I might be sipping Dom Perignon in a sumptuous chalet after a day’s heli-skiing but, when I'm back home, chances are you'll find me scouring the shops of Clapham for bargains...
The purpose of this intermittent blog is, therefore, to share the ever-changing routine of a travel writer – both the highs and the lows - with those curious about the reality of this extraordinary job.
18 May
A long overdue entry - roses in Morocco
I must apologise for the delay in posting an entry here. I know I said this blog would be 'intermittent' but I hadn't intended it to be quite so infrequent! Suffice to say, I've been working industriously in London, leading a virtually normal life.
However, I did leave the country last week for five days in hot, sunny Morocco to follow in the footsteps of the London perfumer Linda Pilkington, founder of Ormonde Jayne . Inspired by Linda's tales of rose hunting in the Atlas Mountains, and by an evocative-sounding Rose Festival, which takes place each May in the Valley of Roses, I swapped rainy Clapham for the balmy Ouarzazate (pronounced Wazazat) province.
The feature about my rosy adventures will be published in the Sunday Telegraph next week, so I won't go into detail now, but suffice to say, it was a fragrant and visual delight. Being a rose fan anyway, the sight and scent of great piles of 
rose petals being forked through by young Sarah (pictured above) and a whole rooftop spread with tight rose buds drying in the sun, was truly wonderful. I also adored the violently pink rose products layered on heaving shelves in the 'Boutiques des Roses' that line the streets of the 'capital' of the Valley of Roses, El Kelaa de M'Gouna. Who knew soap could be so pink?
I had the pleasure of being accompanied by a professional travel photographer on this assignment, Ian Cumming , whose photographs accompany this blog. I found it fascinating, as a keen yet amateurish photographer, to see the world through the eyes of such a professional. Whether he was scrambling up hillsides to snap landscapes or squatting next to Sarah, Ian was entirely engrossed at all times and would see potential in scenes I barely noticed. Fascinating.
One place where we both got carried away with our cameras was the utterly divine Dar Ahlam Kashbah , a boutique hotel in which we both had the pleasure of staying for a couple of days. Dar Ahlam is, without question, one of the most indulgent and romantic hotels I have ever set foot in - leaving it was genuinely distressing.
Rather than repeat what you will read in the Telegraph next weekend (!), I shall leave you with a couple more of Ian's photos to whet your appetite for my tales of Morocco's endearlingly scruffy and fragrant Damask roses.
3 April
My last turns of the winter [sniff]
As snow falls in Scotland (after Britain's springtime heat wave), I have just returned to London after my final ski trip of the winter. The end of the ski season is always an emotional time for me - even the cheering sights and smells of spring can't fully relieve my sadness about the winter's end.
Fortunately, however, my last trip was extremely enjoyable and just as spring skiing should be: basking in warm sunshine under deep blue skies and zipping around entertainingly slushy pistes, in the pint-sized Italian resort of Pila in the Aosta Valley . Admittedly, it was somewhat peculiar swapping my flip flops for ski boots at the resort's base station in the town of Aosta and watching mountain bikers, rather than skiers, hurtle underneath the gondola… But the atmosphere on the mountain was wonderful, with everyone soaking up the sunshine and spectacular views across to the Matterhorn and Mont Blanc from comfy deckchairs over extended lunches. And I thoroughly enjoyed heading out for supper each evening in a balmy Aosta - pottering around the historic town in a t-shirt, gelato in hand, certainly made for an alternative kind of apres-ski!
I also squeezed in a day’s walking in the breathtakingly beautiful Gran Paradiso National Park , which is located about 40 minutes’ drive from Aosta. Trading ski boots for hiking boots and salopettes for shorts, I hiked along the sun-drenched valley, rich with the scent of pine needles, towards the awesome Gran Paradiso – at 4,061m the highest mountain located entirely in Italy. Having walked for several hours, my friend and I turned back towards Valnontey, the picturesque village from where we had started, for what we considered a well-deserved beer.
And then we met the professional ice-climber Matthias Scherer , his partner Tanja Schmitt and their friend Tony Richardson. Coming across this dynamic trio about 20 minutes outside of Valnontey, we seriously struggled to catch up with them, despite the fact they were wearing ski boots and carrying big packs and skis. Stopping to chat with them (fortunately they slowed to take photographs or I doubt I would have caught them), it transpired that, while we had stocked up on provisions for our ‘hike’ and ambled along the valley, these three had walked, skinned and climbed their way up some 2,000 vertical metres to the 3,692m-high peak of Torre del Gran San Pietro and skied back down. Here’s a short video Matthias made of their day: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dDTdszEz528&feature=share
Although my beer tasted fantastic, sitting in the late afternoon sunshine watching the snow-capped Gran Paradiso develop a rosy sunset hue, somehow it didn’t feel quite so well-deserved as it had done prior to meeting these three remarkable athletes... My friend is trying to persuade me to regard our meeting as inspiration to get fit for the summer. I appreciate his enthusiasm, but I'm not convinced I'll be following in Matthias' ice-climbing or Tanja's ultra-marathon footsteps any time soon.
25 March
Mani Mania at Rock the Pistes in the Portes du Soleil
Today, I fell ever so slightly in love with a French rock star. His name is Mani and he is a celebrated songwriter amongst those in the know (he wrote the hit 'Starlight', for example) and, in the balmy French sunshine, surrounded by snowy (well, slushy) mountains it was impossible not to fall for his velvetty tones and jiggy hips. His music blends tones of Jamiroquai and Lenny Kravitz with a hint of Jimi Hendrix and - just to confirm my crush - Mani loves to ski as well as sing. Here's a picture of us taking a few turns together this afternoon...
While not stalking Mani, I have been attending the other outdoor concerts which are taking place across the gigantic Portes du Soleil ski area (650km of pistes across 12 resorts in France and Switzerland) as part of the 'Rock the Pistes' festival. Yesterday we saw the hugely popular French singer Louis Bertignac (the French equivalent of Keith Richards) perform in front of 3,000 happy skiers and this afternoon (after Mani), there was a stellar performance from Gerald de Palmas . Despite not having heard of the predominantly French acts at the festival, I have been deeply impressed by the quality of all the performances so far, although it would be hard to find fault with skiing around to listen to free concerts in sunny locations with the jagged Dents du Midi as your backdrop...
Tomorrow, there'll be just enough time to squeeze in a lunchtime performance by Shaka Ponk (an electro rock band, so I'm told) before some afternoon skiing and a reluctant return to London. However, I gather that Mani is, like me, based in the pretty village of Chatel and that he might be found in L'Escalier bar this evening... No prizes for guessing where I'll be establishing myself tonight!
22 March
What a difference a day can make
After some unusually cloudy weather in Alta Badia, I woke up a couple of days ago to piercingly blue skies and even a little dusting of fresh snow up around Colfosco. As you can see from the shot on the right, it was a very different scene to the grassy shot below.
Skiing in the Dolomites on a clear, sunny day simply has to be one of the most exhilarating and scenic activities available to mankind. The scale of the Sella Massif and surrounding peaks, resplendent in their pinky / apricoty hue, set against deep blue skies and dusted with snow is literally breathtaking.
The 'powder' also enabled me to put the new Dupraz D2 skis to the test. These funky looking skis (very reminiscent of Salomon's innovative BBRs , which were launched last winter) claim to provide skiers with the ultimate all-mountain ski, with an extremely wide nose, waist and tail in addition to asymmetrical sidecut outlines - click into the skis with the deep sidecut facing inside for piste skiing and with the straight sidecut facing inside for wider turns in powder. Admittedly, I didn't have much opportunity to try the skis in deep powder but thought they performed well on the pistes and were probably the best possible skis to have in the thick afternoon slush, which was more reminiscent of waterskiing than snow skiing!
I'm intrigued to see how the conditions in Portes du Soleil , the vast ski area which spans Swiss and French resorts including Avoriaz, Champery and Chatel, will compare with the South Tyrol... My next report will come to you from there on Saturday!
19 March
Taking the slush with the smooth in Alta Badia, South Tyrol
Wine. Ski. Safari. Three words which are brilliant individually but even better when combined. And truly spectacular when combined in the setting of the Dolomites... Once a year (sadly - I'm working on the local tourist board to increase the frequency!), local South Tyrolean wine producers work with mountain restaurants in the picturesque ski area of Alta Badia to host a Wine Ski Safari . This delightful event enables people to ski to four different wine tasting 'stations', which are set up outside (to capitalise on the sunshine and breathtaking views of the Dolomites), each of which offer between 10 and 15 different wines, from fresh sparkling wines to floral Rieslings and gutsy Blauburgunders, as well as local cheeses, cold meats and bread (presumably to avoid too many drunken ski incidents). Access to the whole event costs a mere €20, which I think offers exceptionally good value for money, particularly considering the excellent quality of the wines. (This link has a video to give a visual impression of the event: http://www.altabadia.org/en-US/south_tyrol_wine_tasting.html )
While not forcing myself to spit out wine in order to be able to get myself safely down the mountain, I have been making the most of Alta Badia's exceptional cuisine (some assignments are more challenging than others). Another inspired initiative of the Alta Badia tourist office is the 'Taste for Skiing' programme, whereby ten Michelin-starred chefs have each created one locally-inspired dish, which is served in a different mountain restaurant across the area throughout the season. The dishes showcase the best of South Tyrolean cuisine and produce and, at about €15 each, represent great value for money.
Less inexpensive but hopefully well worth it is my next meal: a tasting menu at the two Michelin-starred St Hubertus in the utterly delightful Rosa Alpina Hotel , where I am currently fortunate enough to be staying. So yes, I am having a rather good time of it all, which might make you wonder why the 'title' of this blog is about taking the slush with the smooth? Well - the photo on the left was taken here yesterday and today, as we skied around the Sella Ronda today (a very enjoyable, and usually exceptionally scenic 38km loop around the Sella mountain) it was so overcast, I never even caught a glimpse of the Sella Massif... However, I've got my Dolomighty Breakfast to look forward to tomorrow morning - a 7am cat-ride up to the top of the mountain for breakfast and some fresh (slush / grass) tracks - so I'm putting on a brave face.
On a rare break from eating and drinking, I met a couple staying at the comfortable Inghams chalet hotel where I spent my first couple of nights here ( Al Pigher ). They had first skiied here in the South Tyrol 15 years ago, in a tiny place called Val di Fassa, and loved it. They haven't returned since then because they've been waiting for a tour operator to come here. Whether this is through sheer loyalty to Inghams or sheer fear of independent travel, I didn't ascertain, but it struck me as rather sad that they waited so long (and then arrived when there's no snow). Only 2% of visitors to Alta Badia are from the UK, yet we represent its third largest market. I say: don't let the Italians and Germans have all the foody, scenic fun!! Come out here - with Inghams or not (although, at £550 per week half-board, it's hard to argue with the former)!!
4 March
Wats, klongs, Khuns and lotus flowers
The past couple of weeks have seen me travel from the sub-zero snowy Selkirks to the steamy chaos of Bangkok, with ten days in a surprisingly balmy London in between. Ski boots to flip flops (and back again next week) has been interesting... Last Thursday, I touched down in Bangkok for a three-day cruise along the Chao Phraya, one of the Thai rivers which flooded so badly late last year. I was initially due to join this cruise last October but the swollen river wouldn't allow it, and I've been eagerly awaiting the opportunity to reschedule the voyage ever since.
Fortunately, the trip exceeded my expectations, proving well worth the wait. I won't go into detail here (read the article in the Sunday Telegraph!) but suffice to say that this renovated 100 year-old teak rice barge, Anantara Dream , was my luxurious home for three days as we motored up and down the Chao Phraya to the ancient, abandoned city of Ayutthaya, stopping at temples (Wats in Thai), monasteries and villages en-route.
Life onboard involved attempting to do justice to Chef Jeffrey's delicious Thai food and English Afernoon Teas (and learning some of his culinary tricks during a cookery class); learning how to fold lotus flowers to present as offerings at the Wats; chatting with our charming crew: Khun Johnny, Khun Tawny and Captain Daddy ('Khun' is a polite Thai word used before people's names, which is a little like Mister); and simply watching life on the Chao Phraya - children playing in it, old men fishing on it, women washing clothes in it, young men zooming around on it in multicoloured long boats, and long trains of heavily-laden barges being tugged slowly towards Bangkok. The tide marks of the recent floods were clearly visible on many of the simple wooden homes that flank the river - some had been rebuilt, others were still inhabited despite their delapidated state and many were simply abandoned.
The ancient city of Ayutthaya also bears the scars of the floods - telltale white tidemarks consume its beautiful Buddha statues and many of its 12th century stupas are severely structurally weakened. However, Thai people don't linger over hardship and are focusing on rebuilding those areas affected by the flooding and preventing such mayhem from happening again. In Bangkok, you'd never even know the floods had happened, although this has a lot to do with the fact that severe flooding of the wealthy, tourist areas was controversially prevented by diverting flood waters to poorer areas...
After three days of floating gently up and down the river, ensconced in quiet luxury onboard Anantara Dream, being thrust back into the hustle and bustle of Bangkok was quite a shock. The city is a hot, steamy mass of people, cars, tuktuks, street vendors, dogs and vibrant colours. It's an extraordinary blend of ancient and modern, wealth and poverty - slick, expensive boutiques and shopping malls jostle for space with ancient temples and tumble-down wooden houses, balancing precariously on stilts above the water.
Fortunately, I was lucky enough to spend my last couple of nights at the iconic Mandarin Oriental Hotel , which is a haven of peace and tranquility in the busy city. I loved sitting in the beautiful Author's Lounge for afternoon tea after a hot, sticky day of sight-seeing, following in the footsteps of many of my writing idols: Joseph Conrad, Somerset Maugham, Noel Coward... It was the perfect end to an extraordinary trip. Would I recommend flying for 24 hours for four days of Thai river adventure (environmental impact aside)? Absolutely. Without a shadow of a doubt. (Although I confess that the bonus of flying back home in the flat-bed luxury of Qantas business class definitely softened the blow of the 13-hour return flight...)
24 February
The Joy of Bear Bottoms
During my recent visit to Canada and Colorado, I discovered a new ski pleasure: wearing a piece of kit which generates more chat and smiles than any item I have ever owned. The piece of equipment in question is my Polar Bear ski trousers, made by the French brand Perfect Moment . The brainchild of Thierry Donard, the extraordinary Frenchman who has been producing extreme ski and sports films for some 25 years, Perfect Moment produces the iconic Nuit de la Glisse films, highly covetable skis and a small but funky collection of ski wear and clothing. If you don’t know much about Donard and his films (and you should), watch this short film, complete with some classic 80s outfits and perfect monoboard moments: Donard.
But back to my bear bottoms, there is something extremely pleasing about sporting an item of clothing that makes people smile. Several times a day, I would get cheery grins and comments along the lines of: “Loving those bears!” and “Great pants!” Okay, these were from typically effusive North American skiers and lift operators, rather than their infinitely less chatty European cousins, but I even had a group of Brits in Revelstoke comment on my “Corking bear arse” – and they were definitely talking about the trousers.
Just sitting on the chairlift and looking down at the bears marching across my thighs brings a smile to my face. And they don’t just look good – this is technical kit tested by Donnard’s hand-selected crew of pro freeskiers and it works. They're comfy, warm, have reinforced edge guards, vents and pockets where you want them. Now I just have to persuade Donnard to make me a polar bear onesie. It’s a strong look but I’d never be stuck for chat on a chairlift again…
16 February
Aspen: There's more to this place than you might think
Having spent some two years skiing, living and working in Aspen , the little Victorian mountain town is very close to my heart, and I always delight in returning there. I had the immense pleasure of spending nine days there earlier this month, catching up with friends, revisiting old haunts and remembering what it’s like to ski the same trail more than once
(a rare treat for a ski journalist on assignment).
More famous for its celebrity culture than it should be, it comes as a great surprise to many who visit Aspen that it’s actually a very down-to-earth spot. It’s jam-packed with genuine mountain people who stick their ski kit together with duct tape and hold down multiple jobs to pay for the privilege of living in the town they love.
If you dine at Cache Cache , chances are your waiter will be Ted Mahon , who has climbed Everest and all of Colorado’s 54 14,000ft peaks (without missing a work shift in the restaurant or at his day job as ski instructor). Pop into the Aspen Centre for Environmental Studies ( ACES ) to learn about local wildlife or attend a seminar on Everest and you’ll bump into Ted’s wife, Christy , the first woman to have climbed and skied all of Colorado’s 14,000ers.
A friend of mine recently bought an apartment from long-time Aspen local and estate agent newcomer Chris Klug , who just happens to be a triple Olympian snowboarder. Remarkably, the third time Chris competed in the Olympics it was with a new liver, making him the world’s only Olympian transplantee (he didn’t ‘just’ compete but won a bronze medal). Now retired from snowboarding competitively, when Chris isn’t selling homes, he runs his eponymous Foundation to spread awareness of the need for organ donors.
Another Aspen Chris – Davenport – is one of the world's most accomplished big mountain skiers. In fact, if you ski on Snowmass mountain's Elk Camp area, you’ll be on terrain that Chris (Dav to friends) gladed as a young man. As he says with typical humility: “I just strolled across the hills in summer with a chainsaw…” Dav is not only the first person to have climbed and skied all of Colorado’s 14,000ers in one year but is one of few people on earth to have climbed Everest and then skied down, following the sheer Lhotse Face.
Stepping out of the gondola on Snowmass with Dav on Sunday, he pointed out some of his favourite runs on the mountain - steep cliff chutes below the Cirque. A lift operator overheard him and came over, brows knotted in concern: “Errm, those chutes are pretty gnarly you know. I did them a couple of days ago and they’re tough. You have to be comfortable with kick turns if you’re thinking about them. I really can't recommend you go there.”
Dav smiled and we chatted for a while about the liftie’s preferred runs on the mountain - with repeated warnings that Dav should really get confident with his stem turns... (Here's a picture of him earlier that morning looking quite comfortable on his skis.) Thanking him for his help, Dav shook his hand and said, entirely without ego: “Thank you Jim – Chris Davenport – great to meet you.”
Yes, you might well bump into Paris Hilton or Maria Carey while visiting Aspen but bear in mind that the ‘normal’ people who live here are generally pretty stellar too.
6 February
Just for kicks in British Columbia
When I first visited Kicking Horse Mountain Resort four years ago, it made a big impression on me. With hair-raisingly steep ridges, big open powder bowls, countless tree runs and even a resident (hibernating) grizzly bear, the young British Columbia resort stormed into my top ten favourite ski destinations.
Back in KHMR for three days late last week, I was happy to discover that it’s even better than before. There’s newly-opened terrain on the Superbowl and its new owners, the Resorts of the Canadian Rockies (RCR), have pledged to open a new lift and improve transport between Kicking Horse, Calgary and Fernie (another RCR-owned resort).
I was intrigued to gather that this is the first winter in its 11-year history that KHMR has featured a woman on any of its marketing and advertising material – trying to spread the message that the resort has more to offer than ‘just’ hardcore steeps and deeps. It seems to be working, as the Ski School has received more beginner/intermediate and family groups than ever before, testament not just to the ads but to the extensive terrain on offer here.
However, it wasn’t all about skiing (and hiking, something you end up doing quite a lot of in this resort – we climbed both ridges on the photo above amongst others in one ‘average’ day) while I was in KHMR – I popped down to the nearest town, Golden, to watch ‘ Ski Bum: The Musical’ . The light-hearted (and in my opinion highly entertaining) performance made quite a change from normal après-ski, with some classic moments. The team is touring British Columbia for the rest of the month so, if you find yourself out there, go see it!
1 February
Bighorn, Revelstoke: A place of superlatives
All the writers I know are, like me, prone to a bit of hyperbole – I suppose that, when you’re trained not to use words like ‘nice’ or ‘quite’, you go to the other extreme. However, after the four days I’ve just enjoyed in Revelstoke , British Columbia staying at the Bighorn Lodge, it’s impossible to avoid superlatives.
Revelstoke is the only resort in the world to offer lift, cat, heli and backcountry skiing from one village base and boasts the greatest (lift-accessed) vertical descent of any resort in North America at 1,713 metres. It’s a monster of a mountain, with 3,121 acres of fall line skiing, high alpine bowls and beautifully gladed terrain - skiing top to bottom is a feat reserved for locals in spring, once they’ve spent an entire season strengthening up their thighs.
Bighorn Lodge meanwhile, built and operated by two enterprising young British brothers (and named after the local sheep), is probably the most luxurious ski lodge available for rent in Canada and certainly one of the swankiest pads I’ve ever set foot in. Sleeping 16 people, it’s got everything a self-respecting heliskier could wish for: helipad in the back garden, outdoor hot tub looking out to Mount Begbie, indoor pool and spa, palatial bedrooms, pool table, home cinema…
Words can barely describe the pleasure of stepping outside our private lodge to catch a ride from a Selkirk Tangiers chopper, spending the day pounding through feather-light, virgin powder fields, being dropped back in the garden to find chef Pete’s unspeakably delicious cakes and snacks awaiting us, easing our aches & pains with a massage and soak in the hot tub, Mount Begbie beer in hand, and then feasting on Pete’s gourmet dinners. If I had the money, I would book myself a fortnight at Bighorn every year for the rest of my life.
Until I earn those pennies, however, I’m going to have to return to lift-accessed skiing in Kicking Horse , another British Columbia ski resort where I’ve just arrived. It’s going to be a tough adjustment and I know I’ve been spoiled for life by Bighorn – skiing just won’t ever be the same again. But it was worth every magical, powdery turn.
21 January
Where there are Swedes, there is skiing
This is a slightly belated blog about Engelberg , where I spent five days earlier this week before being sucked into a quagmire of ‘real’ work back in London. Over the years, I have come to use Swedes as a sort of divining rod to locate hardcore skiing. There’s something about the fair-haired ones that enables them to sniff out steep, gnarly skiing from far away, and get stuck in.
Briefly, some examples:
- Gunnar Munthe, who launched the Krazy Kangaruh (and, arguably, après-ski) in St Anton in 1970s.
- Pele Lang, founder of the Skiers Lodge in La Grave.
- Chamonix’s Chambre Neuf and Munchies are both run by Swedes, as is the super desireable Swedish brand Poc , which has its flagship store in the historic mountaineering town
So, the fact that two Swedish pro freeskiers (Eric Spongberg and Niklas Möller) selected Engelberg to found the Ski Lodge (a seriously cool hotel, restaurant and bar) should provide a clue about the quality of skiing to be found on the ‘Mountain of Angels.’ (Mountain Fact: Engelberg is known to Indians as the Mountain of Love after its starring role in countless Bollywood films as the iconic Alpine scene - up to 60,000 Indians flock to the town each year to pay homage to the Berg, usually in summer.)
Spongberg and Möller took on fellow freeskier Matilda Rapaport to manage the Lodge last year, with whom I had the great pleasure of skiing with for a day during my stay in Engelberg. Having already lapped the wonderous Laub and Galtiberg a few times earlier in the week, we headed over to Brunni (the ‘easy’ mountain). After a gentle warm up through the trees of Hinterwald, we skinned for a couple of hours up the Walleneck (as you can see from the shot of Matilda above) for an untracked descent and more skiing to the Gasthaus Schwand for lunch. One last Galtiberg before ‘Mad Monday’ après at the Lodge surrounded by more Swedes, fajitas at the Yucatan and a quick boogie to DJ Yves’ tunes at the Eden Club signified business as usual in Engelberg - and confirmed its place in my Top Three favourite resorts.
28 December
A Winter Wonderland Christmas in Méribel
I have just returned to England from a perfect Christmas in the Alps. Together with my mother and brother, we stayed at the appropriately-named Chalet Les Trois Ours ('the three bears') in Méribel, where we were spoiled to within an inch of our expanding waistbands by the Sovereign Ski team.
From the moment we were met at Geneva airport by Annie, bearing a cooler bag stuffed full of fresh pains aux raisins, fruit, chocolates and drinks, we settled into a truly pampered way of life. Upon arrival at the chalet (located staggering distance from the infamous Ronnie après-ski bar by the Rond Point), a roaring fire was going and our talented chef Luke and his charming girlfriend Lucy welcomed us warmly to our festive home with freshly-baked cakes and tea.
In no time at all, we became accustomed to our mollycoddled lifestyle – we tucked into a slap-up breakfast before stepping across the little stream that wraps around the chalet to be on the piste; tea and cakes would be waiting for us by the fire at the end of each ski day; we’d soak in the hot tub with a cold beer in hand; champagne and canapés were served each evening before Luke’s culinary feasts; and, finally, we’d watch a film in the chalet’s cinema or just sit around the fire catching up on family news… Trust me, returning to England has rarely been such a shock to the system.
Even the weather played ball for those fortunate enough to be spending Christmas in Méribel. There was oodles of fresh snow through the week and Christmas Day dawned a picture-perfect bluebird powder day. My mother no longer skis but was keen to get up the mountain to soak up the 360 degree views, so we escorted her up the Plattières gondola and watched a delighted grin spread across her face as the views opened up. Luke and Lucy had thoughtfully packed us a cool bag with sandwiches, shortbread, fruit and – of course – a bottle of Laurent Perrier for us to sip while we sat at the top of the world. Begging a place outside the ski patrol hut (in return for some shortbread and champagne), we enjoyed a magical Christmas Day lunch at 2,704m above sea level, watching skiers zip past in cheery Santa Claus, Rudolph and elf outfits.
Later that evening, we pottered around the prettily decorated centre of Méribel, where the children were in a great state of excitement about the imminent arrival of Santa Claus… Back at the ranch, we watched a torch-lit descent of the mountain by the ESF and impressive fireworks from our terrace before settling down to a superb Christmas spread worthy of fireworks in itself (with an extremely contented mother loving not having to lift a finger at any point!).
Spending Christmas in a ski resort really does bring back the magic of the festive season – it’s impossible to be a bah-humbug when you’re surrounded by snow-clad trees strung with fairy lights and chalets hunkered under thick blankets of snow, lit by open fires and candles. And, when you’re pampered like we were by Sovereign Ski, it’s a truly unbeatable experience and one we fully intend to repeat next year.
19 December
Too posh to push through bad pistes? Dial PT Ski!
I have just spent the past three days in a wonderfully snowy Klosters , in the excellent company of James Palmer-Tomkinson (pictured to the right here, on our way through the Alpine pastures above Serneus). Descended from four British ski champions, James certainly keeps up the family tradition of excellent skiing and knows Klosters like the back of his hand, having skied here since he was four years old.
Brother of the more high-profile Tara and Santa, James could not be more humble or unassuming if he tried. Together with his wife, Sos, James launched the boutique operation PT Ski last winter out of a simple desire to share their love for, and knowledge of, Klosters. Working with local hotels, ski guides and instructors, PT Ski packages up accommodation, transfers and guiding/tuition for skiers of all abilities (and offers some great family packages) for very reasonable prices (such as £1,063 for four days of guided off-piste skiing, with four nights' half-board accommodation, transfers and winter sports insurance).
My visit coincided with epic powder conditions and a PT Ski off-piste weekend trip organised by James. And, by a stroke of luck, the three Londoners making up the rest of the group turned out to be acquaintances of mine. James was low-key, attentive and the perfect gent at all times - he insisted on carrying skis for the ladies, conjoured chocolate out of his backpack as well as spare gloves and goggles, and generously offered up the best untracked lines to his guests. Together, we enjoyed a powder day at its best on Sunday, thanks to the guiding skills of local man Mirco Auer, something of a celebrity in these parts for his downhill racing and skicross wins. You’ll be able to read more about our adventures in my feature about PT Ski , published in the Daily Telegraph in early January.
In the meantime, I just have to mention what I think is the best ski shop in the Alps: Gotschna Sport in Klosters Platz. Home to Peter and Urs, who have a combined 60 years of boot-fitting experience between them, and a mouth-watering selection of off-piste skis (virtually all set up with touring bindings and skins to rent), the Gotschna team are unfailingly helpful, enthusiastic and friendly. If you ever consider investing in custom soles or liners for your ski boots, it's seriously worth taking a trip to Klosters to have them done there. Not only will you be testing them out on superb ski terrain but, chances are, you won’t need to have them tweaked or adjusted - if you do, you can just pop back into the shop.
17 December
Crans Mon-WOW-a!
I’m writing this onboard a Swiss train bound for Klosters, skirting the banks of Lake Lucerne and soaking up the wintry views, trying to absorb the past couple of days of extremely snowy fun.
I don’t believe I have ever seen so much snow fall so quickly in the Alps before – 3.5 metres was hurled out of the sky at Crans Montana in the past four days. After dire warnings from friends about the dangers of visiting the Swiss resort early in the season (“relatively low, south-facing slopes pre-Christmas – you’re shafted”), I have been bouncing through thigh-deep powder for the past couple of days whooping out loud with sheer joy.
Yesterday it was snowing so heavily we were literally getting fresh tracks on the same lines in the time it took us to ski down and take the lift up from the mid-station. Fortunately (and unlike most other European resorts), Crans Montana boasts plenty of tree-skiing, meaning we could still find our way despite the dense snowstorm. Even better, ‘we’ involved me, Rupert Longsdon (founder of Oxford Ski , who knows Crans Montana like the back of his hand and is pictured here) and Bruno Huggler (director of Valais Tourism ) and about 15 powder-crazed locals who braved the storm for its rich rewards. Check out the YouTube video of us here (I'm on the right trying to stay out of shot): Crans Montana 15 December .
After a hearty breakfast at the newly-refurbished mountain refuge, La Cabane des Violettes , we braved the snow, wind and swirling cloud and ploughed our way through the fluffy powder until the lifts closed at 3.30pm. Fortifying beers and giant portions of crôute en fromage et jambon (think ham and cheese toastie on steroids) in the funky, Dutch-run ZeroDix at the base of Crans followed by a massage in Le Crans Hotel made for a pretty perfect day.
I am thrilled to have ‘discovered’ Crans Montana in such exceptional conditions as, with the opening of a number of spectacular hotels and chalets this winter and significant investment in lifts and town facilities, the resort is poised to return to its former glory days with a bang this season. Be prepared to hear a lot about Chalet Seven this winter - and start saving up for a room now! The innovative owner, Mike Cooper, is putting the finishing touches to this extraordinary 30-person chalet, which incorporates four self-contained apartments and will, in my opinion, set a new benchmark for luxury chalet accommodation in the Alps when it welcomes its lucky first guests next week.
11 December
Best first day back on the slopes ever?
I write this from the comfort of my stunning bedroom in the freshly-opened Mooser Hotel . The name might ring a bell to loyal fans of the one & only St Anton am Arlberg, one of my favourite ski resorts in the world... Remember The Mooserwirt ?! Yes - the bar that probably introduced the phenomenon that is Apres-Ski to Europe (and has a strapline of 'Possibly the worst/'baddest' apres-ski bar in the world?') opened 17 hotel rooms, a spa and restaurant/bar in a newly-constructed extension to the celebrated bar last week.
I have to admit to having been wary of the concept at first but I was persuaded by the not-by-birth-but-to-all-intents-and-purposes St Anton local Andy Butterworth of Kaluma Travel . Having spent a wonderful day getting used to skiing again on sunny, decently snowy slopes, Andy ushered us into the Mooser earlier this afternoon (the Mooser Hotel is St Anton's only ski-in/ski-out hotel), on the night of the live filming of the eleventh annual RTL New Year's Eve concert (I know, it is weird bringing in 2012 prematurely but it was a lot of fun). As you can see from this pic of Matthias Reim , whose greatest hit was 'Verdammt, ich lieb' dich' - 'Damn it, I love you'), I was right behind the camera scenes watching some of Austria and Germany's finest apres-singing talent at work. Memorable.
The verdict on a hotel on the site of the world's loudest, rowdiest apres-ski bar? I am officially a convert. Yes, the beery, table-dancing Euro-Pop of the Mooserwirt is just across the corridor and up a few floors but I can't hear a thing above my Bose surround-sound system and I've just had a dip in a vast outdoor swimming pool overlooking the snow-capped mountains. It might be home to possibly the worst apres-ski bar in the world, but it's possibly the best thought-out hotel I've ever stayed in. I have had my cake (and Jaeger Bomb) and eaten the lot. And I'm about to head upstairs to enjoy dinner before being the first on the mountain tomorrow morning. Smug? Looking forward to an epic winter? You bet.
7 December
Top Packing Tips!
One side-effect of the amount of travelling I have done over the past 15 years is that I have learned a lot about packing… Learning how to pack efficiently makes a significant difference to the enjoyment of trips away – travelling light makes your journeys to and from the airport / train station less of a struggle, while having the right equipment and clothing during your trips will ensure you’re comfortable and confident. Here are six tips I’ve learned from my travel experiences, which I hope might prove useful to others:
Water bottle
It’s such a simple thing but I never leave home without a decent water bottle. Refilling a bottle saves me from using - and discarding - plastic bottles, saves me paying crazy money for bottled water and keeps me hydrated. Just make sure your bottle is empty when you go through security at the airport and fill up at a water fountain before embarking your flight.
Perfume
When you travel a lot, you can end up feeling a bit discombobulated. The best remedy I have found for this is to have at least one sensory constant in my life – a reassuring and familiar scent. A spritz of my favourite perfume instantly restores my sense of ‘me’, revives me after long plane/train/bus journeys and makes me feel presentable.
Linda J Pilkington, founder of the luxurious Ormonde Jayne perfumes, travels extensively in search of rare products for her perfumes, tracking down damask roses from Ta´if in Saudi Arabia, fragrant Tiare flowers in Tahiti and delicate Champaca blooms in India. As such, she recognises the value of having your scent in transportable form and offers two inspired options: a set of four 10ml sprays (available in scents for men and women) and her new sugar butter solid perfume , an intensely perfumed silky balm which comes in a 15ml pot. Instant glamour!
Feathers
I’m heading off to the Alps on Saturday and am already excited about digging out my down jacket and boots. Down is unbeatably warm in winter, quite literally feather light and packs down to nothing in your bag. I love having a warm, dry down jacket to slip into after a day’s skiing (leaving my damp ski jacket to dry while I hit the après-ski bars). I’ve just bought a new Peak Performance Helium jacket , which weighs all of 200 grams but is suitable for freezing temperatures. My trusty down-filled North Face Nuptse Boots keep my toes toasty and also weigh in at a mere 200 grams each, which means I can even keep them in my rucksack while I’m skiing to change into at the end of the ski day.
Travel-size toiletries
I’m always surprised to discover how many people lug around full-size bottles of shampoo, conditioner, face wash etc., even for short trips away. It’s worth checking the website of the hotel you’re staying at to see whether amenities are provided, in which case you don’t have to bring any at all. If they’re not provided, simply decant your essential lotions and potions into small bottles to save space and weight. Finally (this is one for the girls) – I never travel without a little bottle of Johnson’s Baby Oil, which, at £1 per bottle is the best eye makeup remover I’ve ever found and doubles up as great moisturiser.
Day of the week knickers
Sorry boys but this is another tip for the girls. I absolutely swear by my ‘day of the week’ knickers from Austique on the King's Road when I’m travelling. No more confusion about which pair to wear each day, until it comes to deciding which day to wear the bonus ‘Happy Day’ pair…
Resealable poly bags
Another incredibly simple/dull yet invaluable part of my packing inventory: resealable polythene bags. These handy bags are not only necessary for transporting my toiletries through airport security checks but also ideal for keeping my passport and other important documents dry and separate, yet still visible in my bag. I also use them to keep foreign currency in, rather than carrying around a bulky wallet. The best ones I've found so far come from Athens airport - grab me one if you're passing through security there!
Friday 2 December
All in ten days’ work…
What a few days it has been! Last week I enjoyed a whirlwind tour of the magical city that is Florence, while this week has been a blur of deadlines and the first wave of festive press events back in London.
Even as a supposedly jaded and cynical travel writer, I was absolutely blown away by Florence. The city and its residents have such innate grandeur, elegance and style yet retain a wonderfully understated feel. Its role as the birthplace of the renaissance, and associated wealth of breathtakingly important frescoes, statues, paintings and sculptures, make Florence an almost overwhelming experience – not for nothing has the term ‘Stendhal Syndrome’ come about, named after the French author who was left sick and dizzy by the vast amount of art he viewed on an 1817 visit to the city.
In addition to exploring the highlights (and discovering the less well-known parts) of Florence, I went to Tuscany’s capital to take part in a sculpture course. The idea of encouraging visitors to Florence to not only admire some of the world’s finest sculpture but to appreciate the skill that goes into creating it comes courtesy of the Savoy Hotel , which packages up two afternoons of sculpture with exquisite accommodation.
The gallery where the classes take place, Galleria Romanelli , is housed in a deconsecrated church, which was the only building the Romanelli family could find with ceilings tall enough to house their monumental statues. Keeping up a long family tradition of sculpting and dealing in antiques, brother and sister Raffaello and Rubina Romanelli manage the spectacular gallery today. The ever-patient Raffaello took time out from sculpting a portrait of the Dutch queen Wilhemina to help me try to recreate Michelangelo’s David’s lips. In my defence, we only had two hours…
Lack of time is a perennial problem during press trips – spending two days in one destination (let alone more than one night in the same hotel) is a luxury a travel writer can rarely afford. I could have spent a week in Florence and still wanted more time there, if only to spend an entire afternoon at the superb ‘Money and Beauty – Bankers, Boticelli and the Bonfire of the Vanities’ exhibition at the Palazzo Strozzi. This fascinating and enlightening exhibition will only remain open until 22 January next year so GO NOW!
Back in London, I’ve wrenched my brain (and heart) away from the wonders of Florence and have been writing about everything from cruise ship spas and the Aurora Borealis to property in Barbados and hotels in Kathmandu. Oh, and I’ve spent quite a bit of time checking webcams in the Alps and doing twice-daily snow dances in advance of my first ski trip next weekend…
18 November 2011
A week in London
Despite not having left London this week, I have been whisked off virtually to Switzerland, Abu Dhabi, Turkey and Italy at a number of press events hosted in the capital. Travel journalists are always on the hunt for fresh new stories and, as such, hotels, tourist boards and destinations do their best to capture our attention by promoting their latest products in innovative ways.
Knowing that writers (freelancers in particular) are lead by their stomachs, these events invariably take place in choice venues, which also serve to reflect the quality of the hosting hotel/resort/brand. So, while tucking into melt-in-the-mouth lamb in Anton Mosimann’s restaurant, I learned that the Kronenstübli restaurant in the grand old Kronenhof Hotel in Pontresina (near St Moritz) has just been awarded a well-deserved Michelin star. Breakfast in the Ivy revealed impressive expansion plans for the Anantara Hotel Group (there are currently 16 properties in the group – there will be 23 by the end of next year), while plans for the new Bulgari Hotel & Residences in London were unveiled in the brand’s flagship store on Bond Street.
I also checked out the new ski wear range from Perfect Moment , a seriously cool brand due to launch in the UK shortly. Check out this video to learn more about its inspiring founder, Thierry Donard, and see some toe-curlingly impressive extreme sports moments delivered by Perfect Moment's sponsored athletes (and classic 80s 'dig me' skiing by Donard himself): http://vimeo.com/16765720 .
9 November 2011
Shalom y’all from Israel
As I write this, I’m sitting on the balcony of my suite onboard the sumptuous cruise ship, Oceania Marina, overlooking the beautiful Bahai’a 
Gardens in Haifa, Israel. It’s a balmy evening and, together with my mother (my best cruising partner), we’ve been ensconced in luxury onboard the Marina for a week, with the past three days spent based in Haifa.
Having exclaimed that “we won’t be taking a big ship cruise again” after experiencing a 3,000-plus passenger ship during the school holidays, my mother has changed her tune after a week onboard Marina. Oceania claims her brand new ship offers ‘big ship facilities with a small ship feel’ and I would agree wholeheartedly.
One of the most common responses I get when telling people that I cruise a lot is an expression of pity followed by the hearty assertion that they couldn’t bear to be stuck on a ship with a bunch of strangers. However, the most frequent complaint of regular cruisers is that there is rarely enough time spent simply relaxing on the ship!
In order to highlight just how much a typical cruise might involve, here’s a brief outline of what my mother and I have been up to since boarding Marina in Istanbul last week: we’ve enjoyed three 12-hour long tours (Istanbul, Jerusalem & Bethlehem, Nazareth & the Sea of Galilee); explored Kusadasi, Rhodes, Limassol and Haifa independently; taken part in a ‘Modern Greek’ cookery course and arts & crafts lessons onboard; attended seminars about Israel and travel photography; been entertained variously by the sharp-witted Stephen Womack, professional singers, dancers and musicians; watched a movie up on deck, snuggled under a blanket on a double day bed; tried to work off some of the copious quantities of lobster, steak and cakes we’ve been feasting on in Marina’s vast gym; enjoyed relaxing yoga classes… There’s literally barely been time to simply relax by the pool with a book or soak in a hot tub overlooking the ocean.
One of the best things about this cruise has been the ease with which we have been able to explore the relatively challenging country of Israel. Immigration officials came onboard the ship and we filed past them quickly and efficiently, our guides have ushered us to the key sights and good restaurants and away from the less honourable street sellers, while explaining the country’s turbulent history (in a spirited and entirely biased way!) and current way of life. While I might occasionally resent being herded around with bus loads of camera-toting, shopping-obsessed Americans, I was very grateful for our aptly-named coach driver, Moses, who efficiently parted the chaotic traffic of Jerusalem, navigating countless road blocks manned by heavily-armed guards and whisking us across the Palestinian border to visit Bethlehem.
I am genuinely sad that tomorrow will be our last day onboard Marina but it will be a full day at sea, sailing to Crete, so perhaps I’ll actually get a chance to enjoy the ship, and not just the places it has taken me to.
31 October 2011
DEBUNKING SOME MYTHS ABOUT THE NETHERLANDS
Being half Dutch, I am naturally somewhat biased when it comes to the Netherlands. I accept that it is extremely flat and lacking in dramatic landscapes, that parts of Amsterdam are deeply seedy and that the weather isn’t exactly tropical. However, having just spent a week in Amsterdam with my brother, who lives there, I am most definitely in love with my mother’s country.
I find that people typically have a limited view of this small yet atmospheric country, which brought the world tulip mania, van Gogh, Rembrandt, an English king, the Dutch East India Company, Anne Frank, clogs, the Delta Project – the largest construction project in human history – Heineken, syrup waffles and coffee houses, amongst other things.
I encourage anyone visiting Holland to explore the canals and narrow streets of Amsterdam (giving the red light zone a wide berth) but bear in mind that there’s a lot more to see beyond it: the Hague is home to the Mauritshuis museum, stuffed to its pretty rafters with stunning examples of the Dutch masters; Delft is a delightful city with classic Dutch architecture and a long heritage of producing the celebrated Delfts Blauw porcelain; and Utrecht is a lively student city with great bars and clubs. Away from the bright city lights, there are countless pretty little villages such as Enkhuizen (pictured here) - a charming, classic little Dutch village on the Ijsselmeer (a man-made lake created by blocking the former ‘Zuiderzee’ - Southern Sea - from the North Sea and reclaiming 965 square miles of land).
Something that gets me quite hot under the collar is the assertion that Dutch food is lousy, consisting of plastic cheese and chips with mayonnaise. In addition to a host of delicious cheeses (there is a lot more to Dutch cheese than Edam, which actually dates back to the 14thcentury, when it was celebrated for its ability to keep so well in its thick wax coating) and syrup waffles, there are delicious meat croquettes and ‘bitterballen’ (mini ragout balls in crispy fried batter), savoury pancakes (my favourite is bacon slathered in syrup), ‘poffertjes’ (a stack of mini pancakes served with a vast knob of butter melted on top and liberally doused with icing sugar), ‘gevulde speculaas’ (ginger and cinnamon cake filled with marzipan) and heavenly apple pie from Winkel in Amsterdam…