When: 02/02/2012
Where: Champoluc, Italy
Stayed: Buena Vista B&B
Champoluc is the kind of place that gives you a good sharp kick back to the land of the living. Kitchen renovation? What kitchen renovation? How could you possibly care about anything so mundane when you’re faced with rockstar views and a peacefulness that forces you to breathe out London chaos and breathe in life again. This little pocket of beauty sits a 2 hour drive north of Milan, high up in the Italian Alps. Champoluc provides a gateway to the Monterossa ski region which opens up dozens of runs of varying degrees of difficulty – with more than enough options to keep you out of trouble.
Our trip to Champoluc had an interesting start to it. A car not prepped for icy conditions and an inability to access snow chains left us fuming at LocAuto (car hire) and feeling a tad nervous about the journey ahead.
Fortunately we made it to Champoluc unscathed despite the freezing conditions (-20 on the day we arrived). The luck stopped here however. With hindsight it’s a shame that the mounds of snow and icy road didn’t deter us from driving down to the driveway to our accommodation. Yup. Watching the speedo reach nearly 60kph while remaining stationery wasn’t an overly good sign in anyone’s language. Numerous trips up and down the vertical footpath to the local Garage, some serious lactic acid, several games of charades with the elderley italian mechanic, an hour of pushing, heaving, swearing, wheel spinning, aqua planing and revving – and finally we managed to get the car to the top of the driveway. Still no chains. Lucky for LocAuto we were 2 hours away.
The accommodation was very simple but importantly had a cracking shower and heating that managed to combat the -23 conditions. The star of the show was the view however. Opening the curtains to the outside world revealed an imposing mountainous backdrop, layered in meters of snow. The kind of view that catches you off guard every time you draw the curtains. The daily breakky was traditional and filled up our tummy’s nicely – though we did draw the line at cheesecake which was presented as the entree…hmmm not sure about that one.
Ever been so cold that you can’t actually feel your nose running down your face? Yep, a veritable snot fest takes place and you have no idea it’s happening right on your very own face – until you see the horror in your ski buddies eyes. Slightly disturbing and extremely disgusting but when your face is so numb with cold you’re only concern is ensuring absolutely no skin is exposed – and if that means simply pulling your neck gator up further to smother the tap attached to your face; so be it! The good news is, snot does not discriminate by skiing ability, nationality or class.
In theory -25 sounds cold. In reality, it’s an indescribable kind of feeling that embeds itself into every part of your body until you’re fairly certain that your blood may very well start to solidify. Despite roasting hot showers, open fires, heating on max and layers that rival the michelin man you never actually manage to feel warm. A constant battle to ensure you don’t reach the point of no return.
The skiing in Champoluc was phenomenal for those of us newly residing in the intermediate group. Red runs dominated across the region with a smattering of blue runs to help us find our ski legs. Day 1 was outstanding with very few people around to make us feel inadequate – always nice to warm up without the scrutiny of our European skiing friends. Plenty of room for us to snow plough to our hearts content, take lovely wide turns across the slopes and practice our entry onto the chair lifts. Let’s just say it was a good thing we didn’t have an audience for the ‘text book’ chairlift entry we had on the first morning. An ugly web of arms, legs, skis and stocks didn’t do much for our attempt at blending in!
The sun took the edge off the freezing conditions most of the day with only the afternoon becoming unbearable as it started to snow heavily. There’s only so long you can cope with sheer knife like pain in your fingers and toes. The final straw for me came as I lost complete control over one of my legs that decided it had had enough. I nearly did a cruciate ligament in my snow plough action to prevent going over the edge of the mountain. Unfortunately Justin bore witness to the drama and looked on in a mixture of amusement and horror as I only barely skidded to a stop in a tangled mess amongst the orange warning tape. Time for Apres Ski me thinks!
We had high expectations for the food in Champoluc. We weren’t disappointed. Not sure where else in the world you can waltz into a restaurant with polished floors, floor to ceiling glass and brand new modern furniture in your ski boots, eat from an incredible restaurant standard menu and only pay 10 Euro for it! Hotel Creforne – true love. Following apres ski at Lo Bistrot, each night we ate like kings and sampled a different wine from the local Aosta region at fantastic local restaurants such as Il Balivo and Brasserie du Breithorn. Divine.
All in all, close to the perfect Ski trip. We left Champoluc feeling revived, full of life and far more confident in our skiing ability. Even a 5hr plane delay in Milan and 2hr wait for our bags at the other end couldn’t put a dampner on our spirits. (Mind you Monday morning at work after getting home at 1am had a good go at it!)
Cathy & Justin Abroad 