Central Asia. Not every European’s destination of choice when looking for somewhere for a spot of skiing. The resort of Karakol is about 10km out of the town and comprises a restaurant, a ski hire shop, a hotel, a car park and about 3 chalets; all nestled right in the Kashka-Suu valley in the Tian Shan. We have 2 of the 3 A frame chalets, and it is refreshing to be staying in a ski resort that is not packed with hotels, restaurants, shops and tourists.

The chalet is more than comfortable; there are 4 double rooms all with an ensuite and a large lounge/kitchen area taking up the whole of the ground floor with an open fire and plenty of huge soft sofas. It’s perfect.
The resort has four chair lifts, and although one was not working all week, the remaining three are plenty to get to the ski areas and explore the mountain. Much of the skiing is on black runs and there is a significant amount of off-piste. The couple of blues (which are really reds) were more than enough to satisfy my comfort and enthusiasm level.

When it snows in the Karakol resort, it snows a lot! There must have been about 10 inches of snow sitting on top of yesterday’s ice. The conditions were always brilliant first thing – the piste had been bashed and the run from the top was fantastic, and throughout the morning, yet more snow to keep the runs perfect.

Thinking back to ski holidays in Europe when you are frustrated by queues at the ski lifts, and super fast skiers or boarders whizzing past you on the slopes so close that you can smell their aftershave and read the size label on their sallopettes, I can’t tell you how amazing it is to feel like you are the only people on the mountain. Some days, I’m sure we were the only people on the mountain.

When the mountain isn’t busy skiing is so much more pleasurable. You seem to have the time to just ‘be’; at one with the slopes, and able to fully appreciate the natural wonder of the fierce mountains which were like nothing I’ve ever seen before, stretching out like a ribbon across the horizon.

Who would have thought that the best ski holiday of my life would be in that well known vowel-ly challenged Central Asian country of Kyrgyzstan; where the lifts are second hand from resorts in Europe (presumably still in safe order), and vodka and borscht is served on the slopes instead of gluhwein and goulashsuppe?