Norway – home to forests, lakes, the Arctic Circle, lots of mountains and, of course, moose. No other country in the world has the kind of ingrained ski culture that Norway proudly boasts. They produce world-class alpine athletes, ski before they can pronounce the word, and of course eat snow for breakfast. The children even ski to school (and that bit’s true).
Perhaps better known as a cross-country destination, the locals are desperate to shake that image off, and considering the vastness of their mountain range, stretching hundreds of miles from just north of Oslo all the way deep into the Arctic, it’s not surprising they feel hard done by in comparison to their counterparts in the Alps.
Here in Norway, you can smell the word skiing, and if the residents were into tattoos, they’d have a ski on each arm and a pair of googles on their forehead; and believe me, some of them do.
Because skiing is a way of life, this makes the process of participating in the sport particularly straightforward, and it makes Norway the perfect location for the ultimate skiing challenge – take a complete beginner and within three days you can make them into a respectable, confident and able skier, willing to tackle any marked run on the mountain. Safety considerations come first, of course.
Our willing and able test subject was Giancarlo – a Londoner with a real “let’s do it” attitude. GG, as he’s fondly referred to, has never skied, and within three days I wanted to lead him down the World Cup and Olympic Super Giant Slalom Run (a true black) at the ski resort of Kvitfjell, built originally for the 1994 Winter Olympic Games held in Lillehammer.
GG took the sensible precaution of getting some ski lessons at The Snow Centre in Hemel Hempstead before embarking on this Alpine adventure. There he managed to get to the snowplough turning stage, meaning once he got onto the slopes of Norway we could get on with skiing, rather than slipping over on a nursery slope for a day.
Our first destination was the ski resort of Hafjell, situated just outside the picturesque Olympic town of Lillehammer. Surrounded by frozen lakes and straddling icy rivers, the bustling town boasts a number of bars and restaurants and has a real local feel to it – it’s touristy but without the feeling that it’s there for tourists.
Getting to Hafjell is perhaps one of the easiest routes to a ski resort in Europe. From Oslo Airport, Gardermoen, an efficient and very comfortable train whisks you directly from the terminal to Lillehammer in two hours, without fuss. Hafjell itself is about a ten-minute drive from the town centre, and a good base for a ski holiday with hotels, apartments, restaurants and bars to keep you happy without even having to go back into the main town. British-owned Woodies at the bottom of the slopes seemed like a favourite and attracts an après-ski crowd at the end of the day.
But we were here to ski, not party, and it was the beginning of December – plenty of snow, not many people. Perfect conditions for learning. GG took to things pretty well on the first morning after taking the gondola up to the wide beginner’s area halfway up the mountain. There he ducked and dived through the kindergarten nursery area with a magic carpet lift to ease the ascent. How things have changed for beginners; didn’t we either have to walk up or attempt to use a tautly spring-loaded torture contraption before being dragged up sideways through the snow?
By lunchtime we were already heading down a long and gentle green run to an express quad and back up for some Norwegian nosh. Another myth about Norwegian skiing is that the food isn’t up to it – well, I’ve eaten in restaurants from Andorra to Zermatt and I can safely say it is up to it. Perhaps in the past they did lack a certain finesse, with hot dog and chips being the main staple, but that is changing, and certainly in Hafjell, as GG and I tucked into a duck confit and Moroccan-style grilled chicken (wine was available but we stuck to water), there were no fast-food joints in sight.
GG progressed quickly and by the end of the day was skiing a long green piste down to a high-speed quad chairlift. He was buzzing. There’s nothing like the look on someone’s face when they suddenly understand what all the fuss is about; it’s like instant enlightenment and it’s highly addictive.
After two days of skiing, GG was tackling blue runs with ease and even got through the snow park with the odd jump thrown in. Impressive stuff. The slopes of Hafjell certainly made the progression straightforward and the almost-empty slopes helped too. Weekends here get busy, but around that, even during the school holiday periods, it’s quieter than the larger resorts in the Alps.
We headed 30 minutes up the valley that evening to the ski resort of Kvitfjell. Built especially for the 1994 Winter Olympic Games for the Men’s Downhill and Super G events, the ski area has expanded since to include some more relaxing skiing over the backside. But every year, the best skiers in the world return for what’s now a legendary World Cup downhill race on a ski run that rivals anything in the Alps or North America.
Accommodation in Kvitfjell ranges from the fairy tale setting of the Quality Hotel to comfortable cabins right next to the slopes that offer room for large families that want something special without the high prices. Norwegian accommodation is surprisingly good value for money in this cabin category, especially for families.
Our final day on the slopes and it was time to tackle a red run on Kvitfjell’s Westside area, which catches the sun, even during these mid-winter days when the sun stays low.
Of course, I’m not suggesting that anyone can ski down a red graded ski run on their third day of skiing – everything depends on the conditions of the snow, the environment and the individual. As an instructor, you must assess the situation and make a decision based on safety. We skied a red run, but of course I didn’t tell GG that until we got to the bottom. In reality it was easier than the blue, which they often are, but it was the next stage on the list ticked.
The red run was repeated many times, and after lunch, as the sun dropped lower in the sky, I took a look at the World Cup Super G run, a black and a serious challenge for the very best skiers. It’s about as steep as a ski run can get at the top; you can’t see the slope as it drops away underneath you. You can’t help feeling nervous, but the snow was good and the steep section not that long, so we dived in.
We made it to the bottom safely, so the black ski run was ticked off on the third day of skiing. With Kvitfjell conquered, we had a well-deserved beer in Koia, one of the smallest après-ski bars in the world and therefore guaranteed to have an atmosphere. For myself, the satisfaction of helping to bring another addicted skier into the world was enough for me – is anyone else up for it?
