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The dazzle of snow in Val D’Isere

The reason for my impromptu ballerina act was that I was the odd one out — the only person whose feet were not shod in clunky and heavy ski boots. Had one of those feet come down on my innocent canvas covered ones, it would have been mashed pota‘toes’ for breakfast on that lovely wintry morning.

I had arrived in Val D’Isere in the Rhone Alps region of France for a weekend of skiing as an escape from the searing Indian summer. Though this was the very end of the ski season, there was more than enough snow to give the entire village a whitewashed look and ensure that its slopes were busy with skiers.

On my first walk around the village and the ski slopes, what struck me as fantastic was the incredible infrastructure. The sky was crisscrossed with ski lifts attached to cables taking skiers up huge slopes. The mountain side seemed to be buzzing with skiers. For those who had had their fill, cafeterias and snack houses provided a welcome respite.

The next morning, fortified by a breakfast of French rolls and various kinds of cheese, I hopped onto one of the free shuttles and headed out to Le Fornet, one of the last hamlets. I was certainly the odd one out because everyone else was either carrying skis or a snowboard.

While they hopped off the bus and onto a huge cable car that would take them up the slopes from which they’d come tearing down, I set off on the snow-covered walking track that gradually goes up the mountain. For someone whose ‘ice views’ are restricted to the uppermost compartment of a refrigerator, a trek in the snow was a novelty. The slopes and infrastructure are so good that Val D’Isere is the venue for the 2009 FIS Alpine World Ski Championships, to be held from January 30 to February 15. The mountain slopes were white — such a brilliant white that all detergents and washing soaps could use its untainted absoluteness as benchmark.

Now and then, I’d see a blur of colour — one of my co-passengers whizzing down the slopes. The ease with which they zipped down the slopes and the fluidity of motion made it look so simple that I was looking forward to the morrow when I’d be on the slopes too.

But, when I found myself face down in the snow for the ninth time in a quarter of an hour, I had to admit it wasn’t just freewheeling. You needed practice and skill.

All around me, on the nursery slopes of Val D’Isere, children aged four and above were skiing as if their mothers had given birth to them while skiing down a slope.

The motions seemed so easy, and yet again, I struggled, hands, knees and backside numb from the cold. A moment of balance ended by a little shake of my left leg, rapidly followed by furious wind-milling of my arms and a fall, face down, yet again.

But my ski tutor Patrick was patient and persistent . My mean mutterings notwithstanding, I have him to thank that in three hours, I could make a decent descent without spectators having their cameras ready to record the spectacular crashes I had entertained them with before.

Also, I had on my feet spanking new Rossignol skis, which the pros all around were eyeing. Patrick later told me that the new Rossignol and Dynastar brand of skis were much desired for their lightness and aerodynamics. Being in a ski resort doesn’t mean that there’s nothing to do in Val D’Isere once you’re done skiing.

There are fine restaurants serving the best of French food. An especially fine one was La Fruitière, halfway up the Bellevarde, one of the most imposing peaks in the area. We’d got there by Gondola and what followed was a lively evening fuelled by delicious canapés that went sublimely with champagne. I’m not even going to start describing the three-course dinner, but if you’re guessing slow-roasted shoulder of lamb accompanied by fantastic French wine then you are hovering around the same frequency.

In addition, there was the live Jazz Band Vitamine who blew their trumpets and trombones with enthusiasm to whip out taut and foot-tapping tunes. And, the management encouraged guests to dance on the tables.

By the time we were done, I realised that it had gone dark and the mercury had come crashing down to two degrees Celsius and the Gondola has closed for the day. Most guests were going to descend on skis, holding lit torches. This is a popular thing to do in Val D’Isere and is called the ‘Torchlight Descent’. From the town, it is a spectacular sight to see a line of lights zipping down the mountainside.

But that was only for experienced skiers. A horror-filled image of me flying off the edge of the mountain flashed in my mind. Luckily, snowmobiles were available, and I rode down on one.

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