These are the five greatest après ski spots on the continent

Skiing is about what happens when it’s over. The piste is the delivery mechanism for the fun. A day’s skiing without a fondue at the end of it would be a sure sign of insanity: a fruitless exercise in sliding sweatily down a valley populated by talented French toddlers, before dragging yourself solemnly back to the top on a piece of steel stuck between your legs — only to do it all again, ad infinitum, until the sun sets or your knees explode. Gravity and wedgies. A sure sign of insanity. Rats in labs top themselves over less.

But bookend that with a little après ski — a beer or two; some European house music — and my god you’ve got yourself a culture. Suddenly, the day’s toil makes complete and utter sense, with all the zen perfection of yin and yang; the artistic contrast of chiaroscuro. You need the sport to appreciate the sport. Nothing stirs up the lager-thirst like that cool, crisp mountain air. All that cutting and weaving leaves the perfect dent for rosti. And avicii always sounds better in goggles.

So here are the five finest après ski spots on the continent.

They invented Alpine fun in St Moritz. It is a place of endless diversion for the bored and well-heeled. There’s the Cresta Run. The polo tournament played on the frozen lake. The cricket match on ice. The ‘White Turf’ horse racing. And at the centre of it all is Badrutt’s Palace, the arch society hotel which towers like some gorgeous glowing Christmas tree over the lake, and which ur-playboy Gunter Sachs used as his seat of revelry. Last year, Badrutt’s opened Paradiso, its mountain annexe — a distillation of everything that is fun about the hotel (exceptional Engadine food, outrageous furs, gallons of good wine) but with the added benefit of a quite spectacular view from its multi-level, stepped mountain terrace.

“There is plenty of decent St Moritzer hair up here, among the twirling wreaths of pungent cigar smoke,” I said when I popped in last year. “And the view is lovely, whichever where you’re facing — up towards the white peaks, framed against the azure blue sky; or down, plate-wards, to the truffle croque monsieur with extra ‘monsieur.’

Something of a tie here for the St Anton’s crown. Krazy Kanguruh is the fabled classic, which has rather set the tone for Austria’s famously raucous après culture since it opened in 1965 (and, now we think of it, most of the rest of the continent, too.) It’s a place of “table-dancing, stein-smashing antics”, according to our Mountain Correspondent, Eddy Downpatrick, where the schnitzel soaks up the beer from 11am, and hoon-filled skiers slope away down a “moguled-hillock” to find somewhere to snooze or party on. If choosing the latter (and it’s almost always the latter), most navigate over to the boisterous MooserWirt, which describes itself, rather sweetly, as “probably the ‘baddest’ ski hut on the Arlberg”. Here, under disco balls and spinning lasers, the red-nosed, good-natured crowd bop about to DJ Gerhard — in-house maestro at the club for more than 25 years. Very good fun.

Verbier is sometimes referred to as ‘Sloane Square-on-the-Slopes’, such is its concentration of a certain type of Brit. James Blunt is a permanent fixture, of course, and even has a ski lift named after him. Prince Andrew just flogged his chalet here. In the eighties, Jamie Blandford, the Duke of Marlborough, was said to drive around town shooting out the bulbs of the street lamps with a shotgun.

Something of that hedonistic, Wild-West spirit remains — a place for truly letting one’s locks down at the likes of the Farm Club or Le Farinet. The best spot, however, is widely agreed to be Le Rouge, a handsome sunspot calibrated for long afternoons on large format rosé. There are roaring, real-wood fires indoors, fur rugs a plenty, and from 3pm a mood like “Ibiza in the snow”, if the restaurant does say so itself. Plus, you’ll almost certainly bump into four chaps from prep school in the loos. Joy!

Cocorico is the longest-opening après-ski spot in France, staying up till 11pm while most other places have long gone to bed. In a hotly-contested field that features the original Folie Douce, Cocoricos is arguably more fun than its established rival, “but without any of the pretence,” according to a veteran. Located just next to the Olympic Gondola, it’s pretty much at the foot of the mountain, too, meaning even the squiffiest can easily lollop home.

“The mirthful, multi-altitudinal Méribel is perhaps the prettiest (and by this I mean neither dramatic nor stunning) of all the resorts in France”, says Downpatrick. The food here is very good, the forest skiing is world-class, and the après ski scene centres around the institution that is Le Rond-Point, affectionately known as ‘The Ronnie.’ It is the quintessential French après spot — Meribel is in the heart of the three valleys, and Le Rond-Point is at the centre of Meribel. Perched on the side of the mountain with a panorama down the length of the valley, the place pumps out joyful Euro beats — courtesy of local DJs Bubble + Crisp — to a crowd giddy on sunshine and toffee vodka.

Read next: Ice, Ice Baby! The mad joy of the St Moritz Concourse of Elegance

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