Val Thorens, France – Slippery slope into the high life

The first evening on an average ski holiday is usually attended by a lot of excitement and more than a little trepidation. Everyone is fretting about the weather and their ski legs and if they’ll be able to find their ski lesson in the morning.

The first evening on a Club Med ski holiday is quite a different story. Happy hour starts from 5pm, wine, beer and cocktails flow from the bar, while bar snacks, a crepe station – yes really! – and cheeseboards abound for guests to nibble on as they mingle. It’s incredible, you barely have to articulate a need to yourself before a delightful GO – Gentils Organisateurs, as Club Med staff are called – appears as if by magic by your side proffering whatever little delicacy is missing from your life. Meanwhile, the ski instructors are on hand to answer all logistical questions regarding the plan for the week’s skiing.

Ski lessons for all levels are available every day, instructors can advise what the appropriate group for you is, based on your experience and the style of skiing or boarding you want to focus on. The instructor for my snowboarding group was a particularly craggy, leathery old fella in his early 70s. He looked like he’d been roughly hewn from the rock of the mountains where he’d lived all his life. What you want to do on the board then?” he asked me, looking me up and down, not bothering to conceal his obvious scepticism – I’d signed up for the expert snowboarders lesson.

“Freestyle. But what age are you?” I returned fairly brazenly, this seemed to crack him. “Oh ho ho, we have ze freestyler, we have a trickster here,” he proceeded to laugh his ass off at my high opinion of myself. It wouldn’t be the first laugh I’d give him that week as he showed me how to ride switch (the snowboarding equivalent of skiing backwards), spin and hop up off little jumps on my board. Let’s just say the extra cushion on my ass from the nightly feasting in the restaurant was put to good use over the course of the holiday.

Winding down back at the Village each night was balm to my sore bum. The communal spaces of the resort are an endless conveyor belt of delicious snacks and beverages and helpful GOs to parlay them right to your face.

The main bar has a retro futuristic vibe with white leather sofas to lounge on and an elaborately designed lighting system, meaning the whole space transforms from relaxing retreat during the day to a nightclub at night. An outdoor terrace offers a panoramic view of the valleys and peaks of this huge resort, and also boasts an outdoor hot tub from which one can practically high five skiers on passing chair lifts.

The scale of Val Thorens is breathtaking. The resort is part of Les Trois Vallees, the largest linked ski area in the world, comprising an estimated 600 kilometres of pisted runs. Val Thorens is the highest resort in Europe, overlooked by six glaciers, and with virtually all of the ski area situated above 2000m. It is known for excellent early season skiing and a long season with practically guaranteed snow conditions on the largely North-facing slopes.

With miles and miles of vertical descent, snowparks for freestyle enthusiasts and a vast off-piste playground for advanced riders and skiers, the resort is a pleasure to ski. It is the largest in France, and yet manages to retain its village feel in the gingerbread streets of bars and artisan shops that wend around the larger hotels and apartments.

I learn that first night that when you go Club Med, you go Club Med. All your food and drinks are a part of your package, you socialise together with the GOs in the nightclub – the famous themed Club Med nights are quite fascinating, and fun, just check any cynicism at the door. The Village has three restaurants to choose from including The Epicurious, run by the resort’s Michelin-starred chef, a bar and a lounge with live music, a spa, a gym, a teenagers’ games area; and there’s even a vertigo-inducing climbing wall that spans four floors of the building.

In short, you don’t leave Club Med once you’re in. Before arriving, I couldn’t help but feel there was something a shade cultish about the whole thing. I had some sort of inverted snobbery from my days of visiting ski resorts as a broke ski bum (as we’re called in Europe’s resorts), sleeping in my car and usually finding myself frozen in by morning.

However, once you drink the Club Med Kool-aid, believe me you cannot get enough of it. Everything about the place just runs so smoothly. There is no detail, no niche diva-esque need left untended.

I noticed that the downside to this was that I started to see things through Club Med-tinted glasses. Upon entering a restaurant outside of the Club Med resort I couldn’t help but think “ewwwww harsh lighting”. When lost on the slopes, I found myself genuinely baffled as to why a cheerful slave wasn’t materialising to carry me back to Club Med.

With all these upstairs-downstairs vibes, I confess I was amazed at how genuinely happy all the staff of the resort seemed. The GOs were always ready for a bit of partying. In my years working in ski resorts I had had a healthy irritation with clients. Sure, I worked for plenty of fab people over that time but it still didn’t mean I wanted to party with them during Apres. In fact, the Apres at Club Med is something of a misnomer. Here, the Apres goes on pretty much round the clock. Choons are cheerily bangin’ in the ski equipment room from when you collect your skis in the morning. Upon returning from the morning’s ski, you are greeted by a terrace party in full swing. You literally unbind from your skis or board and are immediately offered vin chaud, juices or beers and a morsel – or 10 – of foie gras and all this before lunch. A mini meal before lunch? I could stay here forever.

For breakfast lunch and dinner most days we hit the Village’s main restaurant which is buffet style, though not as we know it. The buffet is a sight to behold. There is a salad station a mile long, a cheese station basically the same size and every bit as well stocked as Sheridan’s. Desserts of every variety imaginable stretch as far as the eye can see. Chefs cook steaks, pizzas, pasta and fish to order before your eyes. The food is divine.

Buffet anxiety is a very real phenomenon among the Irish when presented with unlimited food, but on a Club Med ski holiday there is no need to fear judgement when making your multiple trips to and from the bakery or tartiflette tray. Skiers need hearty meals as we burn so many calories out on the slopes – or at least that’s what we tell ourselves. Also there is a lovely generosity about the Club Med vibe, everything from the frothy hot chocolates provided slope-side on the terrace to the cocktails at Happy Hour to the made-to-order pancakes at breakfast feels plentiful.

As the week speeds by in a flurry of sun, skiing and, frankly, savaging the buffet, I can’t even bring myself to think about the inevitable return to civilian life. I’ve grown accustomed to the constant pandering to my every need and whim. I knew my spoilt behaviour had peaked by the second last day when I allowed the 70-year-old ski instructor to lift me as I whined petulantly to my feet after crashing spectacularly. Gorging on the Club Med lifestyle could ruin me for other holidays forever more but a little bit in moderation does one no harm.