Monday 21 January
09.00H: The sun’s blazing, it hasn’t snowed for weeks and 18 freestyle skiers, boarders and cameramen have gathered in Courchevel to take part in Columbia Rideweek, a ski movie contest that gives them under five days to shoot and edit a film with an original storyline and white-hot riding. The organisers and riders look equally tense. There are thousands of Euros in prize money up for grabs, and no one wants to lose out because of poor conditions. I chat to the UK team – Fall Line – comprising the McKay brothers Gavin and Jamie, and founder of Run Jump Fly Productions, Nic Watkins. They’re worried the three local teams will have the edge on them by knowing where the best snow is today, especially last year’s reigning champs, team France 1. I leave them to it and head to Snow Coco on Rue de l’Eglise to get kitted out with my snowboard gear.
12.00H: I’m not a happy snow bunny. The pistes have offered a poor choice of bum-bruising ice or springtime slush. My first day’s riding has seen me alternately shuffling down the ice like a wimpy beginner, or catching edges on the soft sludge and landing on my end. Can’t believe it’s January – a curse on global warming! Make a mental note to boycott plastic bags when I get home.
17.00H: Common sense has prevailed and I’m wallowing in the Jacuzzi at the spa of my hotel, La Pomme de Pin. As the hot bubbles massage my disappointingly unachey muscles, I spare a sympathetic thought for the teams taking part in the contest, who are probably more than a little stressed about the conditions.
20.00H: I join the organisers and sponsors for dinner in restaurant and nightspot Le Kaliko, about the only affordable place to eat in Courchevel. Spot a few of the riders coming in looking less than thrilled with their day’s shoot. Head over to Bar Le Jump for drinks, where Gavin and Jamie explain that today was pretty much a write-off, and most of the crews have been filming their fill-in shots and storylines. They reveal that they’ve got a genius idea for a storyline that involves dressing their ski guide up in a comedy costume for a cameo. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.
23.00H: Turn in for an early night as the soporific effects of the spa catch up with me. Vow to join the partying crowds that I saw piling into the bars the next night.
Tuesday 22 January
09.00H: Hallelujah! Last night saw 18-inches dumped on Courchevel, and the white stuff is still falling from the sky. Most of the teams decide to hit the tree runs and get some killer action shots in the powder. I decide to hunker down with a hot drink for another hour until the high winds have eased off a bit.
11.00H: I finally prise myself out of the warmth and get to the top of the Verdon lift. The sharp wind whips against my face, I look down into zero visibility on the pistes, and I regret my decision. I decide to snuggle up to another hot chocolate in a mountain restaurant and secretly hope the conditions stay bad for another hour at least.
13.00H: My wish is granted. A girl can only drink so many chocolat chauds without burning off some calories to compensate. I head down the blue runs and back to 1850 for lunch.
22.30H: Had dinner in Pomme de Pin’s restaurant with the boys, whose day was a mix of shooting great powder runs and trying not to strangle their guide when he repeatedly fluffed the ten words he had to say for his big scene.
Continued...
Wednesday 23 January
09.00H: Today’s briefing is full of happy riders. The wind has died down, the sun is out, and yesterday’s dump means there’s some serious powder to be had. The teams are clamouring to book the chopper to find the best lines on the mountain. Gavin, Jamie and Nic cunningly hold back to wait for patrol to go through their safety checks higher up, and get some material in the can on the lower slopes before they get wrecked.
11.00H: ‘Heaven, I’m in heaven…’ I croon badly out of tune as I dangle my board gaily off the six-seater chairlift that I’ve got to myself before taking another run down through sweet, fluffy snow in the sunshine. For the next couple of hours I bliss out on my board, stopping to take smug shots and admire the views of Courchevel’s crisp white peaks and sparkling blue skies.
01.00H: I kick back in a deckchair at the top of the Saulire, drink in hand, face slowly toasting a pretty pink hue in the sun. My thighs are aching nicely after navigating the Combe Saulire run a few times before stopping for lunch. Could life possibly get any better? Don’t be stupid.
18.00H: Blissed out, after a perfect afternoon, I head to Le Kalilko where the Rideweek official opening ceremony is taking place. A skier parachutes down to kick off proceedings, landing in front of a rail slide where a handful of locals battle it out for a bundle of goodies.
20.00H: The signing sessions are over, the snacks have been devoured by locust-like après skiers, and the teams are making a sharp exit back to their rooms to edit their day’s material. As I eat with the sponsors (and start to wonder if anyone in this town does actually eat and drink anywhere but Le Kaliko), I discover, word on the street is that Gav and Jamie took some hard lines on the mountain and even their guide was left shocked and awed.
Thursday 24 January
09.00H: There’s a different vibe in the briefing today. After yesterday afternoon the chopper pilot and cameraman did a nice PR job for the boys, telling all and sundry about their daring, insane, and completely unexpected exploits. Jamie had defied a couple of slides to nail a 15m drop, with Gavin taking a 20m double-stage drop into a narrow couloir. The other teams have finally noticed that they exist, and quiz them about their lines, asking ‘Where did you learn to ski like that?’ and ‘Are there any mountains in Britain?’ France 1 look a bit uneasy, realising that they’ve actually got a fight on their hands. The organisers start their briefing with a stern word for team GB, stating, ‘The UK team had better chill out today, we don’t want anyone dying in this competition.’
12.30H: Another perfect morning in Courchevel. Snow, sunshine and quiet slopes. What more could a girl wish for? Cheaper food prices for starters, I think, as I peruse the lunch menu of one of the cafés clustered around the Croisette. I remember where I am, and opt for cheap snacks from the Spar.
16.00H: I finish my day on the 1650 runs, whooping with glee as I discover a deserted blue that no one else is touching because of the poma lift. I charge down it a few times at full speed before deciding I should look for something a little more challenging. Nah, forget it. I hit the blue a few more times, get the lift up and circle around the cruisey Ariondaz and Bosses runs before taking the efficient ski bus back up to 1850.
19.00H: I’ve been invited to dinner again by Gavin, Jamie and Nic, and join them in the hotel restaurant for a chow down, courtesy of the sponsors. Considering they’ve got to hand their entry in by 11am tomorrow, and their video is mostly unedited, they’re looking pretty chilled out. Across the restaurant, team Francais 1 are knocking back an amount of wine that suggests theirs is a wrap.
20.30H: The Frenchies hijack our table with a bottle of suspiciously good vin rouge. I wonder if they’re playing some kind of delay tactic, before chiding myself for being so cynical and suspicious. Nic goes for a smoke outside with their star skier, Thomas Diet, promising to be back in five so they can hit the editing.
21.30H: Nic’s still not back, the Frenchies have all disappeared, the team UK footage is lying unedited in their room and Gavin and Jamie are looking understandably concerned. Gav goes to check out where they’ve gone and reports back that there’s no sign of Nic anywhere. Luckily, Jamie remembers their rivals’ room number, and we go on a rescue mission. Thomas opens the door to reveal Nic being plied by something homemade in a bottle that would probably have the desired effect of rendering him useless for editing in a minute. I drag Nic out on the pretence of needing material for my article and we march him to safety.
24.00H: Nic is still working on the masterpiece, which I now see what the fuss is about – shock and awe! The riding is mind-blowing - no wonder the French team tried to divert Nic. If these guys aren’t on the podium tomorrow night it’ll be the biggest fix since Bush.
Continued...
Friday 25 January
18.00H: After another smug day on the slopes, I join the crowd cramming into the local cinema to watch the movies. Anticipation is high as the screenings kick off, and the crowd awards varying levels of applause according to the riders’ lines and story creativity. Nic is fidgeting nervously next to me, as all three French teams and the Austrians deliver brilliant films. Finally, their movie comes up. Titled Le Sorcier de Neige (The Snow Wizard), it gets laughs as they play on the dodgy pre-dump conditions and seek out the Snow Wizard to ask for help. Cue their guide dressed up in Gandalf gear with a homemade beard, seemingly floating in the air thanks to Nic’s technical wizardry. With the magically conjured snow falling from the sky, the scene then cuts to high-octane tree runs and finally the boys’ daredevil lines. The audience collectively cries out in disbelief, then breaks into the biggest round of cheering and applause of the night.
20.00H: The crowd heads over to Le Kalico for the results, and we stand around nervously, waiting to find out if the French judges will give the prizes to their home teams, or acknowledge the sheer balls of the Brits. Third place is called out – France 3 with World Freeride champ Manu Guidet. Second place goes to Austria for its team’s professionally shot film. Everyone in Team GB assumes France 1 have got it and that they’ve been punished for being too risky. When the judges call out the UK team for first place, the bar erupts into cheers and Gavin, Jamie and Nic jump onto the podium, soak everyone in sight with Champagne and pose for photos and interviews, grinning from ear to ear.
22.30H: The boys are heroes – everyone wants to shake their hands, and they’re being plied with shots. I can’t help but feel proud that good old-fashioned, all-balls, no-frills riding won the day, and enjoy a few hours of associated-with-the-winners status. France 1 are nowhere to be seen, and we decide being trounced by the plucky Brits was too much for their egos to handle.
Trip Notes:
Courchevel, France / www.courchevel.com
Getting there:
Swiss Air Lines and Bmibaby (bmibaby.com) fly to Geneva; British Airways (ba.com) to Geneva, Lyon; easyJet (easyjet.com) to Geneva, Lyon, Grenoble; Ryanair (ryanair.com) to Grenoble; and Jet2.com to Geneva, Chambery. Altibus (altibus.com) runs from these airports. Take the train from London to Moutiers (25km away), with Eurostar (eurostar.com), or treat yourself to a heli-transfer with Air Courchevel (air-courchevel.com)
Tour Operators:
Bespoke/across the board: Ski Independence (ski-i.com)
High-end: Crystal Finest (crystalfinest.co.uk)
Mid-range: Inghams (inghams.co.uk)
Budget: First Choice (firstchoice-ski.co.uk)
The following info applies to Courchevel (C) and Les 3 Vallées (L3V) ski areas:
Season dates: 5th December 2009 - 24th April 2010
Vertical drop: (C) 3,230-1,300m, (L3V) 3,230-1,260m
Pistes: (C) 150km, (L3V) 600k / Nearly 25,000 acres of off-piste in L3V
Snowmaking: (C) 43% of pistes are covered, by 617 cannons; (L3V) 33%
Lift passes: (C) £30 1-day, £145 six-day, (L3V) £36 1-day, £179 six-day
Mountain munchies: Endless options, none of them cheap
Guiding and tuition: Around 700 ESF (esfcourchevel.com) instructors in Courchevel alone – in 25 languages. Supreme (supremeski.com) is among many local schools and guiding outfits.
Snowpark?: Yes, and Méribel-Mottaret has a park, boardercross and half-pipe
