en af Momondo, 31. dec 2008


Photo: Mandj98

At Momondo we want to wish you all a happy New Year with lots of travels. 2008 has been fantastic and we hope to see you many times in 2009.

All the best,

The momondo-team

Udgivet af
en af Momondo, 31. dec 2008


Photo: Elbartoxxxxx

It’s always the same old song: ”When you subject yourself to extreme challenges, you find your own strength and get to know yourself better.” So, you’ve got to climb Mount Everest, swim 18 kilometres under water, or sail around the British Isles in a canoe made from compressed rice paper. If you do that (and especially if you’re the first in the world to do it), you’ll experience an inner explosion of rosy and true happiness. You’ll be intensely connected with your inner self . . .

But, my friends, it’s all a hoax. You won’t gain one additional iota of happiness by pushing a soapbox cart across the Alps or run to St Petersburg and back wearing only a loincloth, or contesting any of the extreme records that haven’t been set yet.


Photo: Eric Lon

You often hear people who do extreme sports tell about how they feel so much more alive the closer they are to death. But from my point of view, they’re already dead inside. If it really is necessary to challenge life in order to notice and appreciate it, your soul is dangerously damaged. I think these people are people who just cannot see the true and basic values in their lives, that is, love for other people. We’re talking about people who throw themselves into self-made crises, hoping to find a purpose hidden in the very struggle to survive.


Photo: Scarleth White

These athletic kamikaze pilots also claim that they’re really struggling to transcend their own limits and barriers. I don’t believe that at all. They just love to be the first to do something extreme. They must constantly exceed and surpass one another. Earlier, it was a glorious achievement to climb Mount Everest; nowadays you need to ride your bike to the northern ends of Sweden first or climb up there without oxygen – and in ten years, you’ll need to go there by pogo stick for it to have any value as self-development (meaning, if anybody is to notice it).


Photo: Kev Purcell

I can’t help thinking of foolhardy mountaineers and extreme skiers and other media heroes of our time as junkies. And like drug addicts, these extreme-junkies are merciless in their hunt for the next fix, their next high. They show no consideration – not for themselves, but especially not for their families and friends.

When extreme athletes talk about contempt for death, it’s a linguistic sham, because it’s really about contempt for the people who care about them. It’s not very sad to die; usually it’s over pretty quickly – and once you’re dead, it’s impossible to feel sadness. What’s bad is to be the ones left behind to deal with the sorrow. That’s why these deadly dangerous deeds are, in my opinion, proof of a highly egotistical mindset, an unbridled focus on yourself and your personal needs, as well as a morbid craving for being noticed, famous or talked about.


Photo: Eric Lon

And it’s actually utterly unnecessary, because the truly extreme experiences are waiting somewhere inside yourself. If you want to try something really challenging, do volunteer work in a refugee camp, or try helping an immigrant gain a foothold on the Danish labour market, or say something nice to a person you detest . . . that’s extreme. And you run no risk of breaking anything – except maybe a bias or two.

By Thomas Uhrskov

Go further: Read here about how meditation and tai-chi make you a better skier and click here to find out about Finland's 5 best ski resorts.

Udgivet af
en af Momondo, 10. dec 2008


Photo: Dirkgroeger

By Christian Hincheldey

The powdery snow whirls through the air while the helicopter fights the turbulence above us and disappears into the deep blue sky. Slowly we move our protected upper bodies from the pile of skis and backpacks that otherwise would have been sent into orbit by the power of the rotor.

We are at the summit of The Pipe Line in Alaska’s Chugach Range, a range whose staggering amounts of snow and amazingly steep hillsides meet the demands of even the most seasoned off-piste skier or snowboarder. This is our second lift, and while the delicate snowflakes slowly settle on the 45-55 degrees sloping hillsides, we remove most of the ice coating our skis before getting down to business.

The bindings click, and at the very edge of the hillside our guide yells with his characteristic accent, “Okay guys, ready to go vertical?” We can’t see the hillside yet, because we have to jump onto it from a two metres high snowy ledge that defines the mountain’s jagged profile.

Our first jaunt was a nice, relaxed run down a glacier, but this is extreme. I look at my friend, Frank, whose face seems to have changed colour, chameleon-like, at the sound of the guide’s cheerful voice. He’s quite a bit paler than the reptile, though.


Photo: Dirkgroeger

Our front guide Rick and his tail guide Ty lay down the final guidelines for the upper slope. “Listen up, guys, when you shoot into her, you wanna go fast down, no stopping and no falling. Do huge, fast turns, so you don’t spend too much time on her.” This introduction doesn’t make Frank’s skin colour appear any healthier, but he grits his teeth, takes the plunge and disappears into the powder.

After seven seasons as guides in Austria, Frank and I had a dream of going to Alaska to test the mountains, take some pictures and maybe do a documentary on skiing in Alaska. We got hold of a digital video camera with a decent colour card, plenty of film and of we went.

We arrived in Anchorage late one evening towards the end of March, rented a car and drove down to the small town Girdwood, home to Alaska’s only “real” skiing area (with ski lifts). Our budget was too tight for a 4x4 for twenty days, but ten minutes of non-stop charming convinced the salesgirl to upgrade us from economy class to a genuine mid-size automatic Mercury floater with summer tires! The car had ample room for all our gear and four pairs of skis, but we did regard the summer tires with a certain suspicion, especially when we woke up the next morning and discovered 60 centimetres of newly fallen snow. We didn’t know anything about the condition of the roads up in Thompson Pass at Valdez.


Photo: Dirkgroeger

Alyeska at this end of the Chugach Mountains would prove to be an excellent skiing area with just six ski lifts, one of which was a cabin lift, and a breathtaking situation right by the Turnagain inlet. The backbone of the area – the north face – which is a wide hillside with a number of black off-piste routes, called “double black diamonds”, had a reputation for being some of the very best woodland skiing terrain in all of North America, and that proved to be correct. “The Christmas Chute”, a steep ravine on the north face, would later in the week be used for the Red Bull Snow Thrill, another “free-skiing” event in which free-skiers from all over the world compete on extremely steep hillsides. The weather in Alaska is totally unpredictable, and we had driven through this particular ravine in a dense fog the previous day without knowing it. We had simply assumed that it was a perfectly ordinary black diamond.

After a week of warming up in the mountains around Girdwood and the local ski bar Chair 5, we were ready for Valdez, and a full day’s drive in the floater brought us to Thompson Pass, approximately 45 kilometres from Valdez.

Before leaving home we had checked the four helicopter operators of the area via the internet. The cheapest and most hardcore supplier of heliskiing in the area was ABA – Alaska Backcountry Adventures (the first to introduce heliskiing in the Chugach Mountains).

They promised sublime powder experiences with the slogan “Access the goods”, and that did sound promising. The initial meeting with ABA in Thompson Pass was indeed auspicious. Three helicopters, an old propeller-driven aircraft and a container with an office constituted the basis of ABA. In the middle of nowhere. Following a so-called heli-briefing, where you learn how to behave around the helicopter and how to load your skis, we completed the mandatory avalanche search course. Equipped with a so-called avalanche beeper, you have to find a person buried under the snow. The course would prove to be valuable to many participants. Then we were ready.

Our classic alpine skis really got us value for our money. Several hundred turns through the most awesome powder snow. Our two guides both use so-called flat skis, which prevent you from sinking down into the snow and almost make you surf on top of it, a bit like a snowboard. In Europe this kind of skis are sometimes called senior citizen-skis.

After the second heli-lift we’re completely busted, and once again we’re ridiculed for our traditional skis, which from their point of view take too much effort. A battered old truck picks us up by the highway and drives us back to the ABA base. In the evening, when the temperature drops to minus ten degrees Celsius, we start the engine of our floater and head towards every ski-bum’s paradise, Tzaina Lodge. In this wooden cabin, a heavy, ambient reggae-ish music captivate skiers and snowboarders from all over the world. The events of the day are washed down with a couple of cold beers before we drive back to our tent. Utterly exhausted, ignoring the rumours that the first bears possibly have left their winter lair, we crawl into our sleeping bags while the northern lights illuminate the sky above us.

Go further: Read about skiing in Chile in July.

Udgivet af
en af Momondo, 2. dec 2008


Photo: FrankLong

London has just opened its first artificial ski slope at the O2 in Greenwich, but if you want a taste of the real thing before the season starts, there’s plenty of action to be had in the high altitude resorts in the French Alps.

This November, uninspired by fake snow and a crowded indoor arena, myself and two companions got ahead of the game and travelled to the French resort of Tignes for a long weekend’s pre-season ski.


Les Arc looking down on Bourg St. Maurice                                                          Photo: Dom Edwards

Leaving South East London by car at lunchtime on Friday and making the journey by Eurostar, we arrived in the French alpine town of Bourg St. Maurice at around 10.00pm – just in time to grab a delicious ‘Super Grenier’ pizza at Le Grenier Des Cinq Lacs. You won’t find a better pizza in the valley … or indeed, a larger, more intimidating Jeroboam sized bottle of Green Chartreuse.

The town of Bourg St. Maurice is open all year round and lies at the base of the Les Arcs resort. Just a 50-minute drive up to the Espace Killy ski area, it is home to the world famous Val d’Isere and Tignes ski resorts.

The ‘Grand Motte’ Glacier in Tignes is also open for skiing all year round and the open runs are serviced by the impressively quick Grand Motte Funicular, the Grand Motte cable car and also a series of chairlifts and drag lifts.

However, it’s worth knowing that due to a combination of early season dumps and snow making canons, the resort opens its slopes all the way down to the base resort of Val Claret from early November.

As we headed to slopes early on Saturday morning, the scene was almost picture-perfect – breathtaking blue skies and freshly snow-covered peaks, and not a patchy mountain in sight.

The mountain is open from 8.00am (when it is very icy and fast) until 3.00pm (when it starts to melt and becomes slushy and slow), and you’ll find all different levels from stumbling beginners to national racing teams in their skin-tight cat suits.

Our first run of the winter was from the top of the glacier at 3,656 metres, down the exhilaratingly steep ‘Descente’ black run, and finishing up in Val Claret at 2,100 metres. The views were exactly as you would expect in the heart of winter and only by looking down the valley would you have an inkling it wasn’t a beautiful February’s day.

With two full days of skiing to be had, there was plenty of time to try all the runs on offer, from black runs to the more sedate blue runs, and even test out our skills on the moguls course. There’s also a freestyle snow park with 3 sizable jumps, but being all over thirty, we left this area to the local kids who ruled without question. 

Leaving early on Monday morning, we were back in London by 6.00pm after a most successful trip, feeling nicely tired and all with just the slightest hint of a goggle tan.

Written by Christopher Fischer

Go further: Read about skiing in Chile in July and get a portrait of Saint Foy.

Udgivet af
en af Momondo, 1. dec 2008


Photo: VRoig

Actually, I don’t really want to be writing this article at all, for secrets are best kept if you keep them to yourself. But on the other hand I make a living of writing advice on skiing and ski holidays, and for that reason I’ll have to disclose a secret, well-kept so far, about the Danish skiers’ favourite region in Austria, Wagrain.

The secret has a name: “Die Rote 8er” – “The Red Eight”. The name refers to a gondola lift complete with piste, restaurant and hotel. The piste is wide, beautiful and quite varied. The restaurant at the halfway station is called Edelweiss Alm. It’s a cosy place and the food is really good – they serve so much more than just schnitzel. The hotel, also called Edelweiss (variation in names has never been a strong point in Austria), is just fine and richly deserves its four stars. And both piste, lift and hotel are integrated parts of the skiing area of Wagrain/Flachau. The Red Eight is actually situated right in the middle of the skiing area.


Photo: Randomduck

Most of week 7 was spent in the vicinity of the red-painted gondola lift. And we couldn’t help smiling at the paradoxical fact that our piste most of the time was significantly less populated than the main pistes in Wagrain and Flachau – even though everything is connected.

It seemed weird to us that a big part of the skiing area apparently isn’t known to the majority of the 12.500 Danes who visit Wagrain each year. The explanation is perhaps found in the prevailing zeitgeist. We’ve become so spoiled and restless that we constantly demand options. The more the better. That’s why we refuse to run down dead-end pistes. If the run doesn’t automatically lead to other pistes, we’re simply not interested. Maybe it’s because we nowadays are more concerned with quantity than quality. Apparently our demands correspond to those of the fox in his burrow: we want several exits. A piste that ends in a car park and a lift that merely takes us back to the summit don’t have the same appeal as the over-crowded piste next to it, just because the over-crowded one has three different lifts to the summit. And to be perfectly blunt, that’s plain ridiculous.


Photo: Randomduck

So allow me to strike a blow for the area around the red gondola lift: the next time you find yourself in Wagrain or Flachau, choose one of the many lifts to the summit. Once you’re up there, position yourself facing Flachau and with your back towards Wagrain. A bit below to the left you’ll see a sign with the words “Die Rote 8er”. That’s what you should aim for. Here you’ll find a long and rather beautiful woodland piste. And at the halfway station you’ll be able to choose from a range of eateries, blue pistes, a nice and well-run children’s area with a conveyor belt lift, igloos, a tepee with a bonfire, ski carousel and a kind of bobsleigh track, on which the bobsleighs have been replaced with swimming rings and inflated inner tubes.

If small children are part of your holiday entourage, you will naturally be concerned with questions of security, restroom facilities and child-friendly lifts. Those are all present in the vicinity of the middle station of the red gondola lift, and especially after the children’s area have been significantly extended in an attempt to make the area less of a secret.


Photo: Randomduck

Close to the halfway station, halfway up the mountain side between Wagrain and Flachau, you’ll find Hotel Edelweiss. 30 years ago, the building provided the daily framework for a farmer and his cattle. He did, however, have a couple of guest rooms available to tourists passing through, as per tradition in Austria. But space for the cattle was reduced each year, while tourist space was increased. And today the family has no cattle, but rather 35 rooms with room for 70-100 guests.

The young couple who took over the hotel from their parents in 2003 has managed to create a great balance between relaxed luxury and informal cosiness. Because the hotel is situated on a remote mountain, a certain natural calm descends over the place once the lifts close. Then you’re left with the swimming pool, the sauna or the common room with the fireplace, where free cake is served. During the week you’ll get acquainted with the other guests, and nobody raises an eyebrow if the children play rambunctiously in the corridors.

If you decide to drive there, be sure to remember snow chains. When we where there, it snowed every day and only 4x4’s and vehicles with snow chains had any hope of getting up the mountain – and down again. The prices for a stay with half-board varies slightly according to the size of your room and time of year, but expect a price of 70 to 120 euro per adult per day – and compared to 2-star hotels in Flachau and Wagrain, that’s very good value for your money.

There is only one problem. Many of those who checked out last winter immediately booked for the following winter, so it gets sold out pretty quickly. But don’t give up. It is still possible to find lodgings close by, for instance with some of the mountain farmers who still maintain a more equal distribution between cattle and tourists.

Written by Thomas Uhrskov

Go further: Read here about extreme attitudes towards extreme sports click here to find out skiing in Jasna, Slovakia.

Udgivet af