One of the more curious visual illusions you can experience goes like this. Stand at the top of a hill covered in snow. You are wearing warm, well-designed clothes and superb boots. See how the gentle slope ambles slowly down through the trees? See the tranquil winter scenery? Now, strap on these skis. Whoa! How did that happen? That gentle hill is now a vertical wall of savage ice, edged by timber death traps.
Never felt that? Perhaps you are one of those fortunate souls whose parents put them on skis from the age of three, forever ensuring perfect balance and confidence. That’s not me.
“I’ve only been downhill skiing once before,” I keep telling my instructor. “In 1978.”
Adam nods encouragingly and gives me a tip. “Keep looking up. Like you’re driving a car. Look ahead.”
“It was a school trip,” I say, looking down at my boots to avoid the vertical death trap illusion. “There was one very pretty girl and our Italian instructor spent the whole week making us boys look stupid for her benefit – and his.”
“Notice how skis have changed,” says Adam. “Aren’t they easier to manoeuvre?”
I have to admit they are.
“And the boots are much better, too, aren’t they?”
“Yes, I suppose so.”
“Look up,” says Adam. “And then let’s try a turn.”
To my immense surprise I don’t fall and I do turn. The slope ahead somehow seems less steep. Now there is a second strange illusion: every time Adam speaks, the slope gets gentler. Weird. The day goes by quickly and we finish by tackling a red run, which leaves me feeling immensely pleased with myself.
Åre, in Sweden’s Jämtland region, is hardly a familiar name to most British people. One reason for this is that there have been no direct flights there from the UK until now: easyjet started flying to Åre-Östersund from Gatwick last month. Another reason is that we were pronouncing it incorrectly – it sounds more like “aura”.
It is Sweden’s largest downhill ski area and regularly hosts major competitions. It’s also a small town, with a community feel. I know that because Adam keeps introducing me to his mates. One of them sweeps down to us while chatting on his mobile.
“Kevin, this is Reine Barkered.”
Reine looks like a cool dude on skis. It turns out he was World Freeride champion in 2012. Freeriding involves skiing down genuinely vertical surfaces – no illusions – leaping off cliffs and so on. Åre is the sort of town where you bump into such folk.
In fact, when my day of skiing is over, it proves to be a seriously friendly place, with some great restaurants and bars. I particularly like Werséns in the main square because it serves reindeer and lingonberry pizza. In other places they would call that “Arctic-Italian fusion cuisine”, but Åre doesn’t really do pretentious. Upmarket, yes, but not pretentious.
There’s even a thrift store, Mountain Recycle, selling secondhand ski gear, and plenty of cheap eating options (including a Thai fast food caravan close to the chocolate factory).
I devote my second day to seeing what else, apart from skiing, the area can offer. I head off with Rikard from activity company Explore Åre to hike through the snowy forest and see reindeer that have just been brought down from the mountains by Habbe, a Sami herder. He shows me how to lasso a reindeer and subdue it, but I fail in all my attempts to copy him. Nearby is Trillevallen, one of a number of smaller ski resorts. It’s well out in the sticks, but suits those who want a more down-home Scandinavian ski experience, and is a bit cheaper (an adult lift pass is around £30 a day instead of £37 in Åre).
On our drive back we stop at a new charcuterie opened by local chef Magnus Nilsson, an acknowledged genius with food and author of the Nordic Cookbook. His restaurant, Fäviken, just outside Åre, is currently ranked 41st in the world, but the set menu costs £267 a head. I’m about to say, “Thanks, I’ll stick with the Thai caravan,” when Rikard points out that Magnus sells hotdogs for £5 from a kiosk in town, so you don’t have to be an investment banker to enjoy his cooking.
Back in Åre, Rikard and I do a bit of ice sculpture in the square (it’s a regular gig, where he sets up a block and invites people to have a go). It proves to be a rather nifty way of meeting locals who like to stop and pass the time, despite the temperature of -10C.
Much of the talk is of hunting. Jämtland, this region, is renowned for it. They find it hard to comprehend that I don’t hunt. “Not even ptarmigan?” asks one incredulous passerby. In a land that disappears under snow for half the year, the walking larder that is a moose is something of an obsession.
That probably explains why I don’t see any moose – only their tracks – when I go snowshoeing that night through the forest. Neither do we see the aurora borealis (never book a northern lights expedition during full moon), but I enjoy the trek a lot and listening to hunting tales told by my guide, Gunnar.
Next morning I’m back up the hill with Adam in time to catch the dawn over frozen Åre lake, a magical moment. Then we ski down to a cafe for fika, which is often inadequately translated as “coffee and cake” but has connotations of warmth and indolence. Suits me. I’m exhausted.
Adam tells me he used to work in banking in Stockholm, but gave it up for skiing. Does he miss anything of that life? He racks his brains for a very long time and several cakes. “You know, I used to find balance sheets really fascinating.”
He shakes his head. I think he is experiencing the banking version of the vertical death trap illusion. Outside on the snowy mountain slopes, skiers are carving long lazy curves. He smiles. “I will never go back.”
• The trip was provided by Visit Sweden. EasyJet flies from Gatwick to Åre-Östersund once a week from £25 one-way and based on two people on the same booking. Åre lift passes can be bought online from Ski Star, from €44 a day for adults, €34 for 8–15-year-olds and over-65s. Doubles at the Ǻregården Hotel cost around £140 B&B. For more information visit aresweden.com. Gatwick airport accommodation was provided by Holiday Extras, which also arranges lounge access, transfers and car parking
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