It’s seldom I find myself falling in love with a place. Let alone a city. It’s not that I don’t appreciate pastures new, or enjoy the bright lights of the big smoke, but to be honest, I wouldn’t say there are many cities I would claim to love. However, I’m truly smitten by Vancouver. Why?
I write at 38,000ft, on my way back to grey London, having spent four glorious spring days in the largest city of British Columbia. I’d been looking forward to my trip for a while. Everyone I spoke with prior to my trip, who’d visited, had the same reaction. Their eyes lit up, before they reminisced of days spent strolling amongst the metropolis, in the mountains, by the water, or on the beach. And it’s that exact diversity that captured my imagination.
You look one way and the North Shore Mountains tower above you, the other, and the vast Pacific ocean merges with the horizon. There is quirkiness too: sea planes swoop overhead as you admire the totem poles in Stanley Park, conscious of the smell of the sea wafting through the park. You can ski the local hills – Grouse and Cypress mountains – in the morning, and, if you’re brave, swim in the ocean in the afternoon. And the skiing, given its proximity to the city, is pretty good too. Both venues hosted events during the Vancouver 2010 Olympics, (Cypress was home to the infamous Ski Cross, which shot to fame during the Games) and thanks to continued investment, the resorts remain ever popular with skiers from the city.
Olympic Games are always a test for the host city. The eyes of the world suddenly converge on it for two-weeks, and then the show moves on. Years of meticulous planning and preparation (at vast expense) all under the spotlight. But what the Games do allow for is rejuvenation and regeneration – just look at how East London has changed.
Vancouver used the money to spruce up Gastown, previously a somewhat rundown area of downtown. Now, three years on, the district is an arty, cosmopolitan hive of activity. In the daytime, small independent shops, and the ‘Big Ben’ steam clock, attract hordes of tourists, whilst, once the sun sets, the bar’s attract a multicultural set from all over the city. As my fabulous guide Lois Tomlinson – from ToursByLocals – put it: “Gastown needed a facelift, and the Games allowed that to happen. They re-cobbled many of the streets, tidied up the area, and the result put Gastown back on the map – not only for visitors to the city, but also for Vancouver residents.”
So, I hear you ask, what is Vancouver’s downside? I’m normally quick to point out flaws in places, and there is just one: the weather. With a maritime, and mountainous climate combined, the weather is highly unpredictable, changes quickly, and it rains a lot. One day, I woke to blue skies, hours later the grey clouds rolled in, it rained all afternoon, but, by dusk, the spring sun was glowing on the mountains. It’s no wonder people never leave home without an umbrella, or their vitamin D supplements.
But anyway, who cares about rain? I’d found a city where weekday evenings can be spent strolling by the sea, and weekends on skis. If you ask me, that’s a pretty admirable lifestyle. Sign me up…
“Sir, What’s the purpose of your stay in BC?” the Canadian immigration officer in Vancouver asked me in a stern tone. “Snow!” I responded, beaming form ear to ear. His response was clear, and simple: “You’re too late.” I didn’t argue – they let me in anyway – but I knew he was wrong.
The headline events – The 27 hour filmmaker showdown and the photographer showdown – sellout within hours of tickets going on sale, and the rest of the festival remains ever popular year on year. The rules for the 72 hour showdown are tight. The participating filmmakers have – you guessed it – 72 hours to script, film, edit and produce a three to five minute film, all within 100km of Whistler. The results were spectacular. A showcase of local talent, is an understatement, the films were entertaining, fun and meticulously produced given the huge time restraint.
I’ve discovered a newfangled love of small resorts. Last month I spent a week discovering the ‘gem’ resorts in Colorado, and this week I found myself skiing in some of the lesser-known resorts of south-western Switzerland.
And the skiing? Impressed doesn’t do it justice. Wide and perfectly groomed pistes greeted me, along with – thanks to countless epic snowfalls this season – fantastic conditions. I didn’t venture into the backcountry, but the whole valley is a freerider’s heaven. From Grimentz there are numerous routes off the back of the mountains – all of which take you back to the resort – and Zinal is home to a huge patrolled off-piste sector. Nearby Chandolin boasts yet more off-piste skiing, and also boasts the Ombrintzes couloirs. Each season, these narrow gullies play host to a qualifying round of the Freeride World Tour, where the best skiers in the world battle it out to gain a place in the main competition.
My guide around the Val d’Anniviers was former Powder Byrne MD Will Herrington, who now co-owns Grimentz-based 
I’m fortunate in the fact that, when discovering new places, and meeting new people, I get to hear a great deal of exceptionally interesting stories. It’s one of the things I enjoy most about visiting new places: stumbling upon surprising stories during everyday conversations. Not all are interesting though: a ski guide in America once spent an hour telling me about his dog. But, in the main, such tales give me a fascinating insight into the varied lives of the people I meet.
Beatles couldn’t ski, so their management asked for four ski instructors to act as body-doubles in the film,” he tells me when I visit the now infamous Beatles Bar, in his four-star 
town before you reach Utah), from where it’s just a 30-minute drive into the hills to the resort of Powderhorn. Here the landscape merges the characteristics of the two states, with views from the slopes of the vast “high desert” wilderness and dusty peaks on the horizon.
In fact, not only do they offer interesting skiing they all have their own little unique selling point: Cooper claims the ‘cheapest’ cat skiing in the US, but Loveland offers it for free, yes free. The A-Basin car park resembles a Los Angeles beach in summer once the lifts close, with people barbequing and toasting their day on the hill with a cooled Coors. In Sunshine, I ran into a bikini clad church group on the slopes, and in Eldora, I happened to visit on the annual 80s fancy dress day.
America, and all just a stones-throw from some of the biggest name resorts in the world. I’m not suggesting a road-trip like ours would be for everyone, but you could easily tick off a handful in a week, utilising the “gems pass” which grants discount on the lift-pass at each resort. Alternatively, if you’re already in the area, it’s worth jumping in the car one day to explore where the locals ski. What’s more, Vail Resorts pass holders can ski at A-Basin for free.
I’ve never been so cold in my life. Even my six layers and two ski jackets were struggling to retain my warmth in the -29C bitterness. Welcome to Tremblant, Quebec’s most notorious – and famously cold – ski resort.
I can’t write about food without mentioning what is possibly Quebec’s signature dish: poutine. The messy pile of chips, gravy and cheese curds, isn’t the most appetising meal, but one every visitor to the province should try. The dish isn’t new, but has experienced somewhat of a renaissance in recent years, spreading across Canada. In Tremblant, pay a visit to Smokes Poutinerie and order the traditional dish for c$15 (£9), will fill you after a day on the slopes.
The skiing is suited to intermediates (and beginners), although, given the resort is prone to rain, you best keep your wits about you as ice is to be expected. The mountain, Mont-Tremblant – translated as the “trembling mountain” – is split into two main sections: the North and South Side, and two other smaller sections, The Edge and Sunny Side. If the mountain is busy, or fresh snow has fallen, head straight to The Edge for the best skiing, on empty pistes (sorry, trails).
Regular readers of the blog will know that I’m a big fan of Les 3 Vallées – the world’s largest ski area – but are probably unaware that I’m actually quite the gourmand too. Food, particularly prepared by someone with far greater skills than me, plays a bit part of my life. In fact, whenever researching a new country prior to a visit, finding out the local, traditional food is often the first thing I search for.
What followed for the next three nights was an eclectic mix of mouth-watering culinary delights. From the amuse-bouche right through to dessert, Lucy showed how cooking is definitely both an art and a science – serving up five courses of delectable cuisine. Chalets and intricate detail aren’t often found together, but what Fish & Pips prove, is when you take enough time to find the best chefs, the results are first-rate – even with just a domestic kitchen.
I’ve always been a fan of weekend skiing, and I’m a true believer that if you get the logistics right, then you return feeling as if you’ve been away for a week. I’ve also discovered there are two sets of weekend skiers: those with money, and those who just can’t get enough snow in their lives. However, the reality is, you could probably do with both.
Showing me the way on the slopes was Reinhard Thaler, a ski instructor with the Alpin-Skischule, who’s lived and worked in the area all his life. He told me how the area is suited to intermediate and advanced skiers, as opposed to those just setting out on two planks: “There isn’t much ’highway‘, or ’motorway‘ skiing to be found here. Even our blue runs have the tendency to become moguled by the end of the day.” And he’d know. Even with the fantastic conditions currently seen in the Alps, a number of the runs were icy by midday, and the ski home can be a challenge on weary legs.
I realised over Christmas that I, shamefully, haven’t updated this blog since the summer. The months leading up to December are always busy: writing, pitching, writing and some actual travelling. In fact, as I think back, the months went by so fast they feel like a blur already.
This season was no different and resort opened in its usual exuberant style, with a series of concerts headlined by the Scorpions, who cheerily performed in temperatures of -10C to a 13,000-strong crowd. The wrinkly, but still splendidly energetic, German rock band – famed for their song Wind of Change – might not have troubled the UK charts much since 1991, when they were No.2, but they’re still massive in Germany and Scandinavia.
Who knows why I did as sitting here now it’s nigh on impossible to fault any aspect of the chalet or the service. But considering the likes of Paul McCartney and co have checked in over the years it’s not that surprising. Built in traditional Savoie style, there is nothing more welcoming than returning after a day on the slopes to homemade tea and cake by the roaring fire.
It’s dangerous, adrenaline fuelled and quite the spectator sport. The athletes are fearless and not afraid to put up a fight. The sport was inaugurated back in the 90s, before making its first appearance at the Winter X Games in 1998 and later joining the World Cup Circuit in 2004. However, it wasn’t until post 2010 Games that Ski Cross became globally known. I’d almost go as far as saying the Vancouver Olympics will be remembered thanks to Ski X.
