Mexico, Central & South America > Chile > Central, Lakes and Volcanoes > Santiago de Chile > Skiing and winter sports > Articles > Skiing the Andes

For some people half the point of a holiday is bragging about it back home afterwards. Any fool can get a tan in the south of France, or even the Caribbean, but there is something gloriously indulgent – even wicked - about acquiring one while skiing in the middle of summer. Other people’s summer, that is. And the idea of skiing in the Andes is still sufficiently exotic to create a stir among friends who have just put their skis back in the attic after a relatively humdrum trip to Val d’Isère.

The ski resorts which dot both sides of the Andes have a siren-like attraction that lures skiers and snowboarders from all parts of the globe, particularly from North America, Brazil, and, increasingly, from Europe too. It’s not that they are that much higher than the Alps or the Rockies, and the skiing, in general, is not as well-organised. The attraction of the Andes for most skiers is their breathtaking remoteness, the unaccustomed scattering of exotic volcanic peaks, and the charm of the Chilean and Argentinean people. Sir Arnold Lunn, who helped pioneer downhill skiing, once said: “Man is at home in the Alps, an intruder in the Andes” - not in a sinister way, but in the sense that you feel, in spite of the friendliness of the people, that you are a guest in another world.

There are a dozen or more ski areas on each side of the cordillera which perseveres for ever along the Chilean-Argentinean border like the fossilised spinal column of an endless dinosaur.

Unfortunately you can’t just drift, as it were, from Chilean slopes to those in Argentina at will. There are only two mountain passes open between the neighbouring countries in winter: the Puyehue pass, where lush, sub-tropical vegetation bowed down with snow lines the route, giving it a wintry, surreal Lost World of Conan Doyle feel, and the fiercely bleak and desolate Uspallata pass, where trucks, engines screaming, ply between the central valley of Chile and the Argentinean city of Mendoza. So if you’re interested in skiing in both countries, it’s best to tick off your Chilean resorts and then head for Argentina, or vice versa. Mix and match doesn’t work.

The major Chilean ski centres are close to Santiago, the European-style capital where the Andes would be almost in your face if it weren’t for the Los Angeles-style pollution problems. The closest – and biggest – ski circuit is formed by the three neighbouring and linked resorts of Valle Nevado, La Parva and El Colorado, between 25 and 30 miles (depending on which resort) from Santiago. Valle Nevado, the only destination resort of the three, provides the glue which keeps the circuit open. La Parva, an up-market resort which offers slopes for wealthy Chileans with second homes, and El Colorado, more of a non-nonsense day-trippers’ haunt, are not the friendliest of bedfellows. But Valle Nevado, seeking to attract its international guests with the promise of Trois Vallées style skiing, provides the nucleus while keeping the other two resorts at arms length.

A little further afield, some 100 miles from Santiago, is Chile’s most famous ski area, Portillo - almost at the top of the Uspallata Pass, which follows the route taken by the now defunct Trans Andes railway line. The rusting track and power lines have long been abandoned, but as you follow the Bajada Del Tren run, you can make a detour and, if sufficient snow has blown in, ski right through the old railway tunnel that once linked the ski area with the line. Very occasionally, the bodies of railway workers killed in accidents a century ago – or possibly even murdered for their pay-packets - are still unearthed in the vicinity.

Portillo, the oldest ski area in South America, is perched at 9350 ft (2850m) just above a little gathering of blue huts housing Chilean border troops and a collection of wandering St Bernard dogs in a remote, steep-sided and almost frighteningly beautiful valley.

The only significant hotel – the yellow and blue Hotel Portillo – clings to the edge of the achingly beautiful Laguna del Inca, with runs on both sides of the lake. The restaurant, with exquisite views across the water (or ice, as it quickly becomes each winter) is like something out of an old ocean-going liner, with red-jacketed waiters scurrying past wood-panelled walls attending the needs of diners reclining in leather-clad chairs.

Legend has it that the Laguna got its name after an Inca princess, Kora-Lle, was killed falling from a cliff during a royal hunting feast. Believing that no human sarcophagus would be suitable for her burial, the heartbroken Prince Illi Yunqui had her wrapped in white linen and buried in the lake. When her body slowly sank beneath the surface, “se tino con el matiz de esmeralda de los bellisimos ojo que ya hijo del Sol no podria jamas despertar” – the waters were turned to the lovely emerald shade of the beautiful eyes “that the child of the Sun would never open again.”

From Portillo, you can drive across the border and head for the distant Argentinean resort of Las Leñas, revered as the Chamonix of the southern hemisphere, with its phenomenal off-piste opportunities, or even further to Bariloche, way down near the shores of Lake Nahuel Huapi in the heart of the Argentine Lake District – the most European of the Argentine resorts.

If you want conventional skiing with plenty of cruising and delightful scenery, with outstanding lake views, Bariloche, or Gran Catedral (its official name) will not disappoint you. It has the additional advantage of being close to the cosmopolitan city of San Carlos de Bariloche. Las Leñas, on the other hand, is not really near anywhere. If superb off-piste skiing is not what appeals to you – or indeed, if the celebrated Marte Lift which provides access to the most adventurous slopes happens to be closed because of strong winds or avalanche danger – you might find yourself at a loose end, although the frenzied bar and night-club scene might rescue you from boredom.

Alternatively, you could remain in Chile, and head down the long, thin bootlace-shaped country all the way to the intriguing resort of Termas de Chillan, Chile’s only ski-and-spa resort.

One shouldn’t generalise, but it seems to be the case that the further south you go along the cordillera, where volcanoes start popping up more regularly, the more exotic the terrain – but the less interesting the skiing becomes, at least in conventional terms. Skiing on the flanks of Villarica Pucon’s volcano, for example, is inordinately exciting and stimulating, especially if it is belching out clouds of steam. However, in terms of skiing acreage, although Termas de Chillan has some exhilaratingly long runs, the likes of Verbier and Val d’Isère rather leave it standing.

What is so special about Chillan – apart from its proximity to the city which gave birth to Chile’s unlikely first president, Bernardo O’Higgins – is that both skiing and scenery are equally superb. (Even the mild stench of sulphur has a curious attraction once you realise it’s not the drains of the mountain restaurant. If you don’t fancy the longish haul down the Pan American Highway (where unlit cyclists resolutely insist on pedalling towards you at dusk on the wrong side of the road, and speeding tour buses tailgate your car without mercy), there’s now an excellent train service from Santiago to Chillan, which takes four hours and is rarely late: good going for a South American train. So if you’re one of those skiers or snowboarders who struggle to survive an entire northern hemisphere summer without a winter-sports fix, the Andes beckon. But be warned – once tasted, like Africa or India, they burrow deep into your soul, and return visits become irresistible.

Articles

• More from Arnie Wilson
• More on the same theme