PV Holidays Blog

Our customer blog of the month belongs to Ben Goodwin whoy won a competition in March to spend a week skiing on Val D’Isere. Ben and his partner Luca travelled on the Snowtrain from Paris to Val d’Isereand stayed at Hotel Latitudes Aigle de Neiges. They share their travel diary with us :

Val D’Isère – March 20th-28th

Friday
“Sunglasses… check. Factor fifty… check. Into the bag also went Top Trumps: High School Musical Edition and more thermals than you can shake a stick at and, before you can say un, deux, trios, our Virgin ‘Pendolino’ was snaking its way into Euston station. Our holiday had finally started and, as my partner Luca mastered the Underground map, I was dreaming of Val D’Isère.

Ditching the Tube, we had a rather unglamorous walk to the newly refurbished, but certainly very glamorous, Saint Pancras station. Having never travelled Eurostar before, I revelled in having to go through Passport Control to get on a train.

What felt like minutes later, we were being spat out the other side of the Chunnel and we both spent the next hour or so gawping at anything remotely ‘French’ through the windows, from a cash ‘n’ carry in Calais to a man in a passing station who seemed to have onion draped around his neck.

Then came Paris, albeit in a flash. We had less than two hours in the Capital of Love, which, for us, turned out to be an argument on the Metro and a few cheeky snaps of the Eiffel Tower (with our hefty luggage in tow). Still, there was plenty of time for l’amour in Val D’Isère.

We barely had time to grab a baguette before we were to depart on the Snow Train. Just its name alone evoked a bygone era, when train travel was seen more as merely getting people from A to B. Although, it was hardly the Orient Express once on-board, the accommodation was comfortable and we managed to get an entire couchette to ourselves. It was as if we were about to have a holiday within a holiday; a train, where you not only sleep on, but you can party too. Oh, yes!

The Snow Train comes equipped with its own disco carriage and we utilised it to the max as well as the adjoining bar. With the bass pumping, drink in hand and lights flashing around us, we danced the night away with fellow skiers, heading to the various resorts in the French Alps. Goodness knows what any sane Frenchman would’ve thought if they happened to see our train whiz by on that night…

Saturday

Saturday began with a hangover, but I was too excited to mope around and instead, we got dressed and watched the train crawl around the mountains that were towering above us by now, occasionally letting passengers off. Our stop was the last… end of the line. Bourg-Saint-Maurice. We had a couple of hours in this pretty town before our bus to Val D’Isère. Naturally, we headed straight to a café for a bit of petit dejeuner.

Afterwards, there was a market on offer and, still with our heavy cases in tow, we checked-out the local produce. In doing so, we came across a stall with a goat sat in a wheelbarrow. A pleasant lady there informed us she (the goat, I mean) was called Brigette and they were raising money for a herd (which Brigette belonged too) up one of the mountains and would we like to buy some honey-flavoured sweets to help? I’d never really heard of anything so bizarre, so, of course, we bought two boxes. They also had a chinchilla in a wooden box, but I never asked why it was there.

I slept all the way on the coach to Val D’Isère so couldn’t tell you about the wonder that is the Tignes dam, or indeed, the mountain road itself. We were soon in Val D’Isère. It was like we’d entered a Winter Wonderland, whereby someone had created the perfect alpine model village and somehow made it full-size. Dazzled by the beauty of the lodges we slowly made our way to our hotel.

Our hotel, Aigle Des Neiges, was equally stunning and we quickly checked-in to get settled into the room. Our room was lovely; all mod. cons with loads of products for us to play with in the bath and even slippers for lounging around in. I mustn’t forget our accommodation’s pièce de résistance, that it was only a stone’s throw (literally) from the slopes and we had an unspoilt view of all the snow-action from our room.

Skiing was very much off the menu on our first day however, and we spent the rest of Saturday pottering around the town, getting to know all its nooks and crannies, of which, there are many. Naturally, along the way, we stopped for several coffees, which later developed into slightly stronger concoctions and before I could see what was happening, I knew I’d wake up the next day with a sore head again.

Sunday
Forget petit, our hotel was serving grand dejeuner. My eyes were bulging, as I literally couldn’t decide what to try first. They even had sausage and bacon! We both ate so much that it allowed us to skip lunch, thus saving a few pennies. Well, we are in a recession.

After getting over the event that was breakfast we decided to dip our toes into the water (or should that be snow) and try out the slopes. Skiing would come later, but we started our ‘snowsperience’ on a good old fashioned sledge. We slapped on the sunscreen (the sun seems to be more powerful there than Costa Brava in July) and added a few extra layers and got down to business.

I have to say, it was the most fun I’d had in ages. Of course, we were the only grown adults on sledges next to the toddlers, but we didn’t care. We were on holiday and this was good, clean fun. As the afternoon progressed, we gradually went higher and higher up our chosen slope, paving the way for faster runs and even more exciting crashes as we dodged other skiers, wildlife and the aforementioned children. I have no idea about snow quality and the like, but it was perfect for sliding along.
After tiring ourselves out, I was blessed to be given a ‘lift’ home and my boyfriend towed me back to the hotel on my sledge. Four-start
luxury, it most definitely was.

A nice quiet meal was followed by a bottle of plonk infront of MTV.

Monday
…and woke to Lady Gaga’s latest video. It was a new day and the sun was still shining. In fact, it was Luca’s birthday and after showering him with cards and presents I nipped out to the Post Office to send home some postcards (mainly to gloat to friends and family back home, but isn’t that what they’re for – I mean, who takes ‘wish you were here literally?’).

Following another breakfast fit for a King… and Queen we made our way to the ski hire shop, both feeling a mixture of excitement and nerves. Neither of us were seasoned skiers. Well, to put it bluntly, I’d only done it before in Holland – perhaps the world’s flattest country. Still, we had confidence on our side and they say it’s like riding a bike, you never forget how to do it. Although, I couldn’t tell you the last time I rode something with pedals.

Needless to say, skiing didn’t come back naturally and we spent Monday morning falling over, grunting in frustration and cursing the wooden planks beneath our feet. At least we looked the part! However, we persevered and after practice, patience, oh, and a bit of coaching, we managed to get our ‘snow legs’ back and we on our way to becoming the next Jean-Claude Killy. Well, that’s a bit of an over-exaggeration, as come five o’clock, we’d still not left the relative safety of the nursery slopes. But, still, it was a start and there was always tomorrow.

Besides, there was air boarding to be done. It seems, every night the local tourism board offers various activities and the first one we tried out was where we had to throw ourselves onto a small, inflated dinghy-esque object and manoeuvre our way down a slope (again, trying not to knock-out several children along the way). Air boarding was great fun… I guess it can best be described as upside-down sledging.

For Luca’s birthday, I wanted to do something a bit special, so managed to find a quaint little restaurant away for the main drag that did fondue (most places do it in Val D., but this place had tonnes of character to boot) a traditional Savoyard dish. As with most of the places we ate at, you couldn’t fault the grub. Sure, it was pricey, but worth it to dip huge chunks of French crusty bread into a cheese sauce that takes your taste buds to seventh heaven.

Tuesday
Another day was had on the slopes and we managed to go a bit higher, a bit faster and a bit longer. Plus, neither of us fell over, so a successful ski, I would say.

Before we went for some après ski, we tried another snow sport, this time snake gliss. The only way to describe it is like the name suggests, a snake, which is formed of little one person carriages that have bobsleigh-type groove underneath. The person in front ‘drives’ the contraption and everyone else merely follows on. Sounds awesome, and it was, for a bit at least. The novelty soon wore-off and you never get to go as fast as you would like. Still, next time I’m at a dinner party, at least I’ll be able to boast that I tried snake gliss. Although, they’ll probably be none the wiser of what it actually is.

In the evening we went to the cinema, which obviously catered for the, what seemed, mainly English visitors to the resort. Many of the films they showed whilst we were there were in English but with French subtitles. Inside, it looked like the building hadn’t changed much since the silent era and, the heating had broken the night we went, so my view of the screen kept getting blurred by my heavy breath. Still, it was a night out and the film was good.

Wednesday
We were both feeling a bit off-colour Wednesday morning, so we took it as an opportunity to have a bit of time off-piste. Come the afternoon and we ventured onto the main shopping street and stocked-up on some tasty treats from the Spar. In there, we saw an advert for a free dance class that evening entitled ‘biodynamique.’ Of course, we were both intrigued and several hours later we found ourselves outside a public hall on the edge of the village.

We seemed to be waiting ages, but no-one came and then it started to snow heavily, so in the end, we just went inside and there we were greeted by a dozen or so middle-aged French women dressed in their finest velour. When they realised that neither of us spoke fluent French one of the ladies stepped forward and intervened with her excellent English. Clearly, foreigners weren’t expected but we were made to feel welcome and the lady explained the meaning of biodynampique. The technique was developed by her friend who wanted to create a base form of dance, similar to Esperanto in the language world, so that people could then go on and learn any kind of dance from the four corners of the globe. I certainly felt excited that we were to try something that few others had experienced.

Then in a flash the dance teacher had arrived in the shape of former ballet dancer Rafael Baile. We were told to express our bodies across the hall in spirals, with hand jives and chanting like tradition Māori folk. A brief break came and we were treated to a glass of non-alcoholic cassis and a slither of quiche.

Thursday

The culture continued to flow the following day as we decided to sign-up for a historical tour of Val D’Isère. It sounds quite dull, especially in a place as small as there, but, our guide took us right back to the village’s formation up to it becoming the popular ski resort it is today. We learnt about disease (the historical ones) religion (notably, were the stories of how the villagers scrimped and saved to get the church built) architecture, family life and the traditions of the region.

Back in the centre of the village, Nuit Rouge was kicking-in. The so-called ‘Red Night’ is called that because traditionally, during the thick of winter, flares of that colour are let-off from the rooftops with an accompanying light show. However, by March it was still too light come seven o’clock, so there was no red to be seen (surely they could’ve put it back an hour or so!). Regardless, we got a glass of vin chaud (mulled wine, to me and thee) there was a really good band playing in the main square and circus performers were running up and down the street. Also, an ice sculptor was hard at work, WOW-ing the crowds with his handy-work. Ag
ain, this event was another freebie thanks to the tourist board, who clearly go out-of-their-way to make sure your average tourist has an above-average experience.

Friday

Not prepared to brave the dizzy heights of the mountains surrounding the village on skis, we decided to scale Bellevarde on foot. Well, I say on foot; we got the cable car up! On top, the weather was less than desirable and thus, the views non-existent. Plus, me and attitude don’t mix well, so I was moaning to Luca after about five minutes that I’d had enough and we soon made our way back to the more pleasant height of Val D’Isère’s 1850 metres. Still, we took the Funnival back to the village, which is a train that cuts through the mountain and shoots out on stilts much lower down at the other side. Very exciting!

After an omelette to give us a boost of energy we threw ourselves back into the après ski life (well, it was Friday, after all). I suppose Val D’Isère is famous for its nightlife and, although not cheap, there were offers to be found and all the bars put on some form of nightly entertainment. We spent our last night at a newly refurbished bar. I was a bit apprehensive at first (it was essentially an English bar, just with more snow outside and beers that weren’t quite full pints) but the atmosphere was electric and I soon got swept into dancing, singing and drinking games that were taking place all around us.

Saturday
A week in luxury with stunning scenery and skiing-aplenty was coming to an end and thoughts about the following working week came to mind and I felt sad. Still, we didn’t leave until late afternoon, so we were able to maximise our time by the slopes. Also, the shops were all beginning their end-of-season sales, so I was able to grab a few bargains for friends and family (and a few more for myself!).

The bus took us to Bourg-Saint-Maurice in under an hour and, after stocking up on grub from the nearby Lidl, we boarded for another night on the Snow Train, disco carriage ‘n’ all.

Sunday
The Snow Train was a treat as before and the transfer on to the Eurostar at Gare du Nord was smooth. Before I knew it, we were back in Blighty, walking from Saint Pancras to Euston and then being transported back to Birmingham.

Val D’Isère and all its beauty were now just a memory but, I knew, one day, I’d be going back…”

Ben and his partner stayed at Hotel Latitudes Aigle de Neiges but P&V have many other hotels and apartments in Val d’Isere.

P&V have recently launched their prices for 2009 ski season. Save 20% on your accommodation for 2009/10 by booking early. Visit our special offer ski page on the website for more details.

Our top current offers include: Avoriaz from €99, Meribel from €133, Courcheval from €210 and La Plagne from €71 per person, per week.