There’s something to be said for slush – although rock-scratched skis may beg to differ – but then I learned to ski in the stuff so splashing around in spring snow whisks up heart-melting teen memories.
Soggy, sun-drenched snow, at the right consistency and contour, even has its benefits as it lets you practise moves at a slower pace. You can, for example, negotiate moguls in slow-mo. That’s something I appreciate way off-piste amid empty meadows in Méribel, where we glide so gently down untouched deep powder, which has been solar- softened to granulated-sugar consistency, that I am able to create those coveted wiggles in the snow for metre after metre.
In mid- to late- spring Méribel, and the resorts straddling it, are still steeped in the white stuff. That’s no happy coincidence: those who want to ski late in the season purposefully seek resorts in which the slopes are above 2,000m and ideally rise to more than 3,000m. While Méribel itself ranges from 1,400m-1,750m it sits at the heart of the Trois Vallées (Three Valleys) ski area, which is so vast and high that exaggerating its assets would be a challenge to even the most honey-tongued marketeer.
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It is one of the biggest ski areas in the world with over 600km of runs over five connected resorts: Courchevel, Méribel, Les Menuires, Val Thorens and Orelle. It also has Europe’s highest resort, Val Thorens at 2,300m with skiing up to 3,230m.
Even at busy times Trois Vallées can handle the masses who swarm here for the astonishing variety – intermediate motorway-runs, lesser-groomed bumpy routes, challenging blacks and off-piste – via 200 lifts, such as the Saulire Express which gathers 2,400 people an hour up to a 2,700m peak in a journey of just over 10 minutes.
Such are the vagaries of changing climates that the weather threatens to wipe out the skiing industry one year (with copious sun) and coastal resorts the next (with storms). Mountain weather is especially unpredictable, which is part of the peaks’ captivating drama. But generally in late spring skiing is at its most comfortable, with sun-lasered sapphire skies meaning you can often get away with cheaper, lighter ski gear. The heat and light also encourage you to stay on the slopes for longer.
On our third day in Trois Vallées, we ski in a white-out blizzard, eyes glued to Ashley Kay, from First Tracks ski school, who starts the day by leading two of us around a mountain and ends up gathering quite a following as skiers blinded by the snow recognise a man who knows these parts.
On that nil-visibility morning the slopes were merely smattered with people but even on other days there was no queueing for lifts and the absolutely vast, wide slopes were ours to scoot around.
We grabbed the space: our lessons from Kay embraced the current trend for skiing with your arms wide apart – as if hugging Mr Blobby – and leaning counter-intuitively down the mountain. Thus positioned we follow Kay who, as if freed from a season of teaching on busy slopes, was lapping up the pistes at speed.
Not that he always pegs it: “What I love about spring snow is the freedom. It’s not about speed or adrenalin – we explore the mountains, the valleys and observe the wildlife. I like to call it snow safari,” says the man who took us down that sugary powder and away down the back of the mountain.
His knowledge of the area means he can ski the best snow throughout spring days, finding which parts are at their optimum consistency, depending on where the sun is or is going to be. “Whether you are on- or off-piste, spring skiing is all about combining the knowledge and choices of where to ski and when to ski there,” he says.
Late season also counts as off-peak so accommodation is cheaper. The huge, warm, wooden, smart, slope-side (to get to the piste you need to cross a stream, which is a scream in ski-boots) chalet we stayed in drops from £25,600 (€33,600) a week at peak to £9,400 (€12,300) in late April. It sleeps up to 12. Food is extra and provided at a cost, which is usually about €150 a week but it could be less. "If our guests just want beans on toast, no problem," says Lucie Learoyd of Alp Leisure.
The chefs in Chalet Bartavelles were excellent, and no wonder, Learoyd road-tests all prospective employees, getting them to cook her a meal. It’s amazing, she says, how some interviewees with sumptuous CVs, outlining experience with top chefs in lofty eateries, produce mediocre meals.
She also goes under the thumbs of all masseurs who apply to work for Alp Leisure: someone’s got to do it. The masseurs come to the chalet as you roll in off the slope, leaving your gear in the heated ski and boot room. One turned out to also be a qualified osteopath and another doubled up as a mean tea and cake-maker: so that’s all areas covered post-piste.
And afterwards? You could always take a glass of wine and tipsy-muscles into the hot tub which looks out over the valley, with the pretty town of Méribel below.
The town has quite a coterie of chalet owners, from (reportedly) the founder of L'Occitane just down the hill from us in the smart Route des Chalets district. For sad reasons Michael Schumacher has also emerged as an owner here.
In next-door Courchevel, a town divided into ascending levels, the prices and exclusivity rise along with the buildings. At its apex, Courchevel 1850 (which is at 1,850m), rich Russians and other prosperous denizens are catered for with designer shops including, one season, a pop-up Chanel boutique. Karl Lagerfeld took to the air to advertise it by decorating 36 gondolas with his sketches including one of Mlle Chanel and a darling Chanel polar bear.
While it pays to be up high when skiing in spring, it doesn’t cost quite as much and even exclusivity could come within reach. You might even benefit from end-of-season sales.
Emma Cullinan travelled as a guest of Alp Leisure