![](templates/subSilver/images/full_size.gif) Poster: A snowHead
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Last week set out from London with a mate for a long weekend's skiing using my battered old VW Camper as a base. I'd read up on all of the do's and don'ts of a camper van trip and had packed propane gas, an electric heater, a generator and lots of bedding and towels. Chris and I left London at 10pm and headed off to Dover. We'd booked an early morning crossing with LD Lines, £64 return for us and the van.
We got to Dover at midnight, had our passports checked and drove to the LD Lines check-in. This was shut but a late night guard said there was no problem us dossing down in the van for the night, so we cracked a few beers and hit the sack at about 1am. At 5am some stroppy cow nearly battered the van door down to wake us up and order us to check in. We smiled through the window and hid "V" signs in our laps, 5 minutes later we were through and waited another 1.5 hours to get on the ship. Breakfast on the ferry was dished out by surly, miserable French staff ..and it closely resembled them. Things could only get better.
We disembarked at Boulogne at 9.45am French time and set the Sat Nav for Bourg St Maurice. We stuck 150E each in the kitty (she wasn't too happy about that) and headed off. The drive was uneventful for most of the day. It was sunny and the roads were quiet. The SAt Nav took us through the outskirts of Paris and that was the only time we were really delayed. We ate crap in the service stations and knocked the drive off in 3 stints at the wheel. I copped the short straw and drove us into the Alps in the dark. We made Bourg at around about 8.30pm and the co-ordinates we had been given for the campsite were wrong. A bit of asking about got us to Camping Le Versoyen at 9pm.Reception was shut so we found the first available electric plug in and pulled up for the night. Two bottles of wine later we hit the sack. My van is a high top and Chris is 6'4" so I had to sleep up top, luckily I remembered to bring a "wee wee bottle" for the inevitable mid-night-wee after much wine as it was a nightmare to climb down when half cut.
We were up at 8am and I booked us in. The campsite owners were dead friendly and moved us to a proper motorhome pitch. I felt well intimidated with my little van located in the middle of 20 HUUUUGH great Winebago type motorhome things. Our neighbours raised an eyebrow at the two disheveled males who had suddenly appeared in their midst. So we held hands and skipped to the toilet block to give them some evening conversation.
By 9am we were sorted out and caught a minibus to the funicular. Chris hired skis and boots from the ski shop run by a moaning scottish bug and his friendly but wizened wife (we think). I paid 4E to leave my shoes behind and we got lift passes and headed up the hill on the funicular to Arc 1600. The rest of the day was minty!!!! Sun, empty slopes, great conditions and my ski lessons last trip had paid off. We covered most of the 1600/1850 area, mainly on blues and reds as Chris hadn't skied for a while. At 5pm I was sat in the bar at 1600 slurping a beer which had probably been gobbed in by our miserable waitress. So we left her a big tip, in fact for the next four days, we tipped her more dependent upon her level of miserableness ..this peaked at 4Euros on the last day when we asked her for some breakfast..which she said "was impossible" so we asked if they had bread..yes..some jam..yes...some butter..yes..please (pretty please) could we have them together. She slammed the lot down and charged us 16E for this and two coffees. We caught the funicular back down, put up with moany scottish bloke for a bit then walked through the woods back to the campsite.
The next four days were much the same, sun, good conditions (until about 4pm), empty slopes (apart from Sunday), miserable waitresses, moaning scottish ski hirers and funny looks from old people in the campsite. The highlight of day two was meeting a bloke called Ian in the bubble out of Les Arcs, we chatted to him for a while and he and I caught the cable to do the Aiguille Rouge black run. I lost him at the top, nearly lost it on the moguls but we found him later in the bar. He was on a one day Eurostar trip and had to head back to Blighty that evening. So in the spirit of true camaraderie we all got completely pissed in the Bazooka Bar (or something like that) and just about managed to get him on the train back home.
Day three saw Chris take a lesson. He paid ESF 39E for one hour. 55 minutes of this hour were spent on the Arcabulle lift as it broke down and he managed to get five minutes instruction on the ski back to 2000 where the instructor had to leave for another lesson. wee wee poor form from ESF I reckon in not offering him another slot. But Chris couldn't be arsed to go back so we headed out to Malgovert for the most entertaining red run I have ever done. It was just a succession of formerly confident red run riders marooned on moguls scratching their heads and muttering a lot. Chris hated every single second of it. I went back and did it twice more, then I made the mistake of venturing down Comborciere in a fit of overconfidence. The last steep section of moguls put me well back in my place.
Day four saw us do the whole resort from 1600 to Vallandry and ending up in Villaroger for lunch..with yet another miserable waitress in the restaurant at the top of Solliet. Our crime this time was to attempt wee wee poor French when ordering, we were actually trying to get it right but she clearly thought we were taking the wee wee. Her reward was a 6Euro tip scraped up from all of our loose change, most of which had been firmly nestled next to my sweaty dangly bits for the past few days.
Saturday and Sunday were the busiest days with many French weekend skiers turning up at Bourg. But the slopes were never that crowded and there were no lift queues at all. Four days was just about right to do Les Arcs, we dodn't venture into La Plagne as I'm off there at Easter with the wife and kids.
We stopped in the van on the campsite most nights as Bourg was a bit dead and we were pretty shagged out at the end of each day. The van was fine with a small electrical heater and our elderly neighbours did not make much noise at all. They were always entertaining though, every night we would skulk back from the funicular to see them seated round their motorhome dining tables, wine in hand, making civil chat with flowers and salad on the table. They had every possible comfort from home to hand, I am sure one van had its own butler. The campsite facilities we good, good showers, lots of hot water and pretty clean. The couple on reception speak good English but I suspect the bloke of swinging with the motorhome crowd as he was over friendly with a few of the more sprightly women.
On the last day Chris handed in his skis and we endured one final scottish moan before heading back to Boulogne. We drove for about four hours to Autun and kipped at a service station for the night. Lucky the van was locked as someone tried the door handle in the middle of the night! Next morning we set off early and were on the ferry for 4pm. The crossing back was uneventful, marred only by the drippy young couple snogging their faces off in the bar. She was into it, but he kept giving us this "Sorry lads but I have to don't I?" look.
All in all the trip was a great success. Fantastic skiing and I didn't find the drive too bad. Costs were roughly as follows:-
Tolls+petrol = 280Euros each way (my van eats petrol)
Ferry = £64 return (LD Lines)
Ski pass = 43Euros per day (We should have bought a 4 day pass but were planning to go to other resorts)
Camping = 22Euros per night
Tips to miserable waitresses = 4-6 Euros per day
We had one big blow out in a mountain restaurant one day which set us back 60 Euros but we saved that again the next day by minesweeping the lunch and wine of a rich British party who fecked off leaving most of their lunch.
Would I do it again? Yes with a capital "Y". The drive was worth it given that I could take what I wanted and not have to go through security or airport car parking or delays or any of that crap. Also, staying in the van made us get up in the morning and get out skiing rather than lounge around putting it off. Bourh St Maurice is a great compromise for me as we managed fine without any heating in the night. If we'd have been much higher it would have been less comfortable.
Here is a really good site for anyone thinking of doing the same http://web.mac.com/kevbatchelor/Ski_Motorhome/Welcome.html
Hope you enjoyed the report. I certainly enjoyed the skiing and we'll be back next year.
Dave
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![](templates/subSilver/images/full_size.gif) Obviously A snowHead isn't a real person
Obviously A snowHead isn't a real person
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DaveB wrote: |
Hope you enjoyed the report. |
I did, it's a good one. Sounds quite an adventure!
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![](templates/subSilver/images/full_size.gif) Well, the person's real but it's just a made up name, see?
Well, the person's real but it's just a made up name, see?
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![](templates/subSilver/images/full_size.gif) You need to Login to know who's really who.
You need to Login to know who's really who.
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Great report, this one was better without pictures as it left much to the imagination!!
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![](templates/subSilver/images/full_size.gif) Anyway, snowHeads is much more fun if you do.
Anyway, snowHeads is much more fun if you do.
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Excellent report. I keep thinking that a "winterised" campervan could be the future, when the kids have gone.
Saw loads in ADH. Parking not far from the lifts and got to be a cheap option.
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![](templates/subSilver/images/full_size.gif) You'll need to Register first of course.
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Quote: |
got to be a cheap option.
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Only if you use it a fair bit throughout the year. They're expensive vehicles and depreciation is a consideration. Campsites aren't that cheap either - and little apartments don't cost much - not the major cost of a ski holiday. I think campervans are great (not that I've ever done one in the winter, and we used to have a small, elderly, tatty one, not one of those big smart ones you see at ski resorts. There are loads here; I enjoy watching people up on their roofs, shovelling the snow off.
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