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In 1925, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle – a pioneering skier - wrote in the guest book at the Jasper Park Lodge in Alberta: “A New York man reaches heaven, and as he passes the gate, St. Peter said, ‘I am sure you will like it’. A Pittsburgh man followed and St. Peter said, ‘It will be a great change for you’. Finally, there came a man from Jasper Park Lodge. ‘I’m afraid’ said St. Peter, ‘that you will be disappointed’."

As our luxury coach purred through the gates of this remote Canadian hotel-cum-village of log cabins, we could see why Conan Doyle was so enchanted. No doubt he too arrived here by coach, or charabanc – yet these days there are some who might sneer at the very idea of visiting ski areas using such a method of transport.

But what if the coach – big enough to seat 56 passengers (and which can be made even bigger when stationery thanks to three “slide-outs”) – costs 1.5 million dollars, has seating for a maximum of 20 people (16 in serious comfort), is equipped with micro-wave, a fold-away barbecue set, a cherry-wood bar, a fridge full of drinks, satellite TVs, and, perhaps most important of all, a driver who won’t let you lift a finger – or even a toe - to do anything?

Ian Hipkins, also the owner of our luxurious Renaissance coach, the Royal Sapphire, even collects your sweaty ski boots and skis at the end of the day, and stores them carefully in the luggage compartment before driving on along the lonely snow-packed roads of the Canadian Rockies. It is the equivalent, we decide, of a Gulfstream jet without wings – the ultimate “après-ski lounge” as Hipkins puts it.

In the car park at Mount Norquay (re-named Ski Banff @ Norquay – yes, the ski area is actually called that), someone wonders whether the coach is ferrying skiers (the general public) back to Banff after a day on the slopes. “Sorry” says Hipkins politely but firmly, “this is a private coach” - which makes us all feel deliciously special.

His company, Luxury Motor Coach Charters, chauffeurs VIP groups around Alberta (Brokeback Mountain country) and BC. The week before our round trip of 875 miles (less than a tankful, at just under eight miles to the gallon, from a 160 gallon tank) from Calgary to Golden via Banff, Lake Louise and Jasper – one of the most scenic journeys in the world - two notables from the film world, Martin Sheen and Woody Harrelson were lounging on the very seats our small party was now occupying. They were en route to a “Celebrity Sport Invitational” at the magnificent waterfront hotel, the Fairmont Chateau Lake Louise – a fundraising event organised by Robert F. Kennedy Jr's Waterkeeper Alliance, to protect waterways around the world.

Now it’s our turn to cruise across Alberta in luxury. With the inevitable tinted windows, the coach is satisfyingly anonymous from the outside. There is no lettering – just a subtle streak or two of delicate burgundy and blue stripes to brighten up the dignified gold. Royal Sapphire, aka Vehicle 60629, is plainly Hipkin’s pride and joy. Like a London cabby, but on a rather grander scale, Hipkins has “had all 13 Canadian premiers” in the back of his coach at the same time when they were being transported to a dinner at Storm Mountain Lodge, a well-known hotel retreat not far from Banff.

Dining outside in winter is another matter. The weather can spoil the most optimistic plans for a barbecue. Near the celebrated Columbia Icefield, with his beloved coach parked in a lay-by and duly expanded, Hipkins goes outside “for some time” – to cook lunch. And, watched by ravenous ravens (it’s Illegal to feed any animals in a Canadian national park) and almost flattened by a near hurricane, battles with a mini-blizzard to produce some very edible steak and chicken kebabs. Wine and fresh salad complete the occasion.

The small community of Jasper has all the charm but limitations of a one- horse town (although the horse shares it with an estimated 250 moose). People live here for the scenery, skiing and “outdoor life”, resigned to the local slogan “twice the life but half the pay”. Although Jasper has some quaint hotels, the most interesting place in which to stay is out of town at the Fairmont Jasper Park Lodge, where the Queen Mother (then Queen) and George VI stayed during their Canadian tour of 1939 (and where their daughter, the present Queen, stayed with Prince Philip in 2005).

The framed 1939 breakfast menu is still on the wall. Dishes back then included stewed prunes, corned beef hash browned, chicken hash, pork chops, calves’ liver and bacon, or a “small breakfast steak” , chipped beef in cream, wheatcakes with maple syrup and bacon, and “Finnen Haddie” - haddock in a yellowy-creamy-briny sauce with fried potatoes.

Jasper’s local slopes at Marmot Basin are extensive and not over-populated, which is good for the locals - but the ski area deserves a wider clientele. With 84 trails, there’s a wide variety of slopes, including some exciting double-black diamond chutes along Eagle East, accessed from the recently developed Eagle Ridge area. The stronger skiers among us developed a keen interest in Charlie’s Bowl, with what has been described as “a 50+ degree entrance that mellows out to perhaps 42 degrees, where the true experts test their mettle - so steep that you can reach out and practically touch the ground next to you.”

We discovered later that apparently “many a skier has bitten the dust here…and lived to tell the tale.” We found the bowl in good condition and kept returning to the top of Knob Chair to enjoy it. Had we known its reputation we would probably never have gone near it. But we too lived to tell the tale, and then started the long journey back to Banff with the trusty Mr Hipkins. After his marathon drive, he joins us for dinner

A banquet is set before us in the grandeur of the Fairmont Banff Springs hotel, designed in the image of a Scottish baronial castle. We eat in the Mt. Stephen Hall, reminiscent of a scaled down version of London’s Westminster Hall, and then my wife and I head for the Presidential Suite. Quite why they have put us there I don’t know - but needless to say, of the hotel’s 770 rooms, the suite – a rooftop eyrie with its own private elevator, grand piano, library and superb views of the Spray and Bow River Valleys - is the most dramatic in the hotel, and quite possibly the whole of Canada.

I count the paces from the front door to the furthest wall, and it comes to around 50. It would take a sprinter five seconds at full tilt to cover the floor-space. A surreal experience, but probably wasted on mere coach travellers.

Back in Calgary, we leave Ian and his freshly washed Royal Sapphire for the last time. I write a line of thanks in the vehicle’s visitors’ book. Other entries include. “Lovin’ the bus”, “I think I’m gonna cry!” and “This bus rocks my socks.” Over the page, I find: “Sick ride. This thing is amazing!” Luxury coach? It’s the only way to go.

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