At the foot of Pic du Midi, the Domaine du Tourmalet is the biggest ski domain in the French Pyrenees (writes Suzie Larcombe).  The village of Barèges itself is full of the charm and authenticity missing in only too many ski resorts now.

Not only can you ski your pins off here, with no queues and good-humoured fellow skiers, the village boasts a thermal spa which will put you back in sorts for the following day. With accommodation to suit all budgets and tastes, there truly is something for everyone in Barèges.

Pau airport is probably the best option from the UK with cheap Ryanair flights, although there is a flight to Lourdes-Tarbes, which is very handy too. Although not a long journey from either airport, it’s really only when you head out of Lourdes that you start to feel as if you’re in the Pyrenees. Signs become handwritten in style rather than billboard, the few people about are kitted out for comfort, not style; the little hamlets en route show little sign of life, apart from the trusty boulangerie and bar, of course, which always boast a good smattering of folk.

On our recent trip, the last ascent was without too much adventure (thankfully) as it’s not the kind of road I’d tackle without chains after even the lightest flurry of snow. Hairpin bends and unfenced drops combine with ear-popping altitude. Yes, you know you’re in the mountains. The sky is as blue as an elephant’s eye and the “sugar” mountains are twinkling like millions of little stars. Everyone in our car at this stage begins to behave like ten year-olds in the anticipation of getting on those boards, sitting on that chairlift and the thrills to come. 

We’ve booked into Hotel Restaurant de la Poste. Mme Hotel de la Poste doesn’t take cards and can’t be bothered with deposits, but she threatens with a vengeance that if we turn up after dix huit heures (6pm to us) our room will be gone, and we’ll have no chance of finding another in this traditional, enchanting hilltop village. 

At €60 for a room (including breakfast) for four, let’s just say, it’s not the Ritz but the room is spotlessly clean, with crisp cotton sheets and plenty of warm (non smelly!) blankets. With no time to waste we dump our bags and head off to the slopes... But not without confirming that we will eat in the hotel bistro that night, of course!

We opt for the ski/spa pass option on the basis that we’ve economised on the hotel and at €39 it seems too good to refuse. It gives us a day’s skiing and access to the thermal spa afterwards, to soothe our aching limbs. Thereafter we decide to take the complimentary bus to the slope, which turns up as if we’d phoned in advance. We jostle for space and nudge up the coach as they pile what seems like an incredible number of people aboard. With an armpit in my face and someone’s ski in my ear, we’re off.  The whole standing population takes (an almost choreographed) two shuffles back and one shuffle forward. In what seems like seconds, we’re there. Wow! The snow could not be better and the sun… It’s the end of February and you’d swear by looking overhead, it must be July or August!

Off the bus and with passes duly attached we head straight for the chairlift. No queues, no hassle, a lift-monitor who smiles and says “bon journée!” as we part: this is what the Pyrenees are all about. After our journey and excitement, the draw of the Restaurant “tele-siege” is just too strong to resist. The gloopiest, gooiest hot chocolate (and to complete the fix, a warm pain au chocolat) awaits…. these’ll have us skiing like champions. 

The resort has a good interlinking range of red, green and a couple of black runs. Let’s just say, it’s neither perfect for absolute beginners nor hardcore 9 to 5 skiers, but for folk like us who want to enjoy a challenge, punctuated with scenic swooshing through the snow, it’s more than perfect. We plan our routes to get us to “the other side” (where we know there’s a restaurant complete with log fire) by about 1.30pm. By then the French, who make up the majority of this mountain population, and who are extremely loyal to their 12 noon lunch will have hit the piste again, leaving space for the Spanish (who come over the border) and us!

Throughout the day, we enjoy French gastronomy and a bit of wine, and a couple of coffee (and small armagnac) breaks, leaving us in that perfect state of relaxation (combined with limbs that you know are there) and that fresh, fresh feel you only really get in the mountains. As the light starts to go and the lifts start to close we head for the bus stop and again, the bus arrives as we do. 

We get off at the spa and park our skis outside. The spa is everything you can imagine and more. Kitted out with our (all inclusive) towels, dressing gowns and sandals, we head off for some relaxation. Dating back centuries, you’d be forgiven for thinking a place of this standing might be stuffy, but you couldn’t be further from the truth. There are people of all ages enjoying the rejuvenating waters, the Jacuzzi, the Turkish bath…

Before we know where we are, it’s apero time. We weave our way from the spa to the hotel bistro, enjoying a few vin chauds on the way and taking in the sights of the self catering holidaymakers doing their food shopping for the night. In some respects they seem to have it right (as the village has an abundance of yummy-looking food shops).  However, we’ve a table for four chez Mme Hotel de la Poste at 8.30pm, so we’d better get a move on. 

Unsure of what to expect, we drop our skis off in the hotel locker-room with just enough time left to change out of our ski gear. To be fair, if the smells are anything to go by, we won’t be disappointed with our repas. When we get there, we wait for the menu to arrive… But no, the soup arrives instead! In fact there is no menu and we eat what we’re given - and absolutely scrumptious it is too. At €17 a head, complete with wine, what a winner!  We’ll certainly be back…

About the author

Suzie Larcombe is author of “The missing link?” and joint director of LimeGray (www.LimeGray.com) - the small rural business development agency with the big city feel.