Blood on The Slopes....

Skiing in the French Alps is different from skiing anywhere else in the world. There, skiing, like haemoglobin and plasma, is in the blood. Let’s indulge a little and take this metaphor further. Imagine a snake-like line of tiny cells in red salopettes ploughing down pisted plunges in perfect formation, only occasionally breaking to batter into thin-walled veins and capillaries of blood-red runs, though soon to find their way back down, down into the heart of the matter. Then it’s all pumped back up and out again to slide down once more. All seemingly effortless. All truly exhausting. But not for the continental European it seems – that is, not for anyone who isn’t British.

Don’t get me wrong, the British are great at skiing, just super. We’re good at getting down at any rate. But one wouldn’t say that skiing is in our blood, no. I mean, if you’ve ever visited the great grey Scottish skiing destination of Glenshee in wintertime, you’ll see the blood on the pocked snow is more constituted of frustration and rainwater than anything else. Not so in the Provence-Alpes-Cote d’Azur and Rhone-Alpes. You’ll see little nippers nipping through splayed legs, carving turns like they were boiling an egg. The naturally chic Mesdames et Messieurs gracefully gliding forward, before kicking back and knocking back in the countless pine Après-ski bars still clad in their well-worn yet barely tarnished gear. As I say, it’s in the blood.

Perhaps we’ll leave it there, blood and skiing, before it gets gory. And let’s face it, it can. For those seeking the adrenalin rush of a sport where the side of a mountain is your court, a few bangs and blows and thuds and thumps are part of the course – even if the course is covered with a cushioning of cold white stuff from the sky. But skiing in the French Alps promises more than the glorious whizz bang (thwack!) of many other resorts across the globe. Skiing there is more about being married to the mountainside rather than having a quick fling with it. It demands more of a commitment, a little bit more attention and TLC. Well, in that sense that one feels obliged to stop half way down the slopes every once in a while to enjoy the breathtaking alpine views, to refuel with a heart and toe-warming drink and a bit of encouraging conversation to buoy ones buttocks back on to the snow and down into town. Surely, not too much to ask of even the most commitment-phobe?

Try Alpine Elements for ski holidays in the French Alps.