The first time I looked down a ski run in China, I thought to
myself: "This is not what I'm here for." I did not expect to hit
the slopes for at least a year and had left my snowboard at home in
Singapore.
But thanks to a company weekend trip, there I was in Nanshan,
one of the top ski resorts near Beijing.
As all serious skiers and snowboarders know, once the season
starts, the rush is unstoppable. But, while the addiction is
universal, no ski resorts in any country are alike.
On my second visit I found myself walking along poplar-lined
dirt roads and brown farmland that led to glaring-white ski slopes
on barren hills.
SUVs and minivans zoomed by, past donkey carts. I walked
alongside a 72-year-old farmer, trudging on the roadside
shouldering a bundle of branches double his height. "It's windy
today, huh," he muttered.
The fringes of ski resorts in Japan entice holidaymakers with
chicken yakitori shops and in South Korea there are barbecued pork
belly restaurants, but just below Nanshan the local grocery store
had knock-off ski gloves and a hut selling chili oil noodles for 5
yuan.
Once I passed the iron gates I found the lift ticket counter
staff did not bother dishing up a thorough explanation of the
available packages in the way employees did for me in the United
States or Canada. Then again, with such bargain prices compared
with other countries, I could not complain.
I paid, got my tickets and shouted my way to the counter to rent
some gear. There were no roundabout rules or baffling procedures,
like Japan.
I was greeted by a group of red-clad personnel, whom I
discovered were ski instructors. Hassle-free instruction in Chinese
on warming up and tumbling safely cost 240 yuan ($33) for two
hours.
There were other differences. One of the most pleasant things
about snowboarding in Japan - other than guaranteed powder snow -
is the sound of J-pop music from the lift tower speakers. Others
might disagree, but I think it gives the place a carnival
atmosphere.
Here, it was the usual safety warnings on ski lifts. There were
some interesting conversations, however, including one about a
famous Chinese film director who had been busted for designer
drugs.
On the intermediate and advanced slopes in Nanshan, the South
Korean snowboarder is king. Ski instructor Liu Qianqian, a
26-year-old Harbin native who has been teaching at the resort for
more than two years, said most of the proficient boarders and
skiers are South Korean students.
The waits at the lifts and the crowds on the slopes, however,
were bearable when compared with the numbers thronging popular
South Korean spots.
Even so, Liu said the number of visitors to Nanshan has been
falling because the options for a short ski getaway from Beijing
are piling up. There are at least 10 spots to choose from. Equally,
perhaps, more Beijingers are checking out the northeast
highlands.
Snowboarder Zhang Min, from Beijing, took up the sport in high
school a year ago and often sneaks off to Nanshan to perfect her
carved turns. Her Nanshan experiences have whetted her appetite for
pistes in far-off lands.
"My first choice would be Europe, the Swiss or Austrian Alps.
Then the US. Snowboarding in a foreign place is part of the fun,"
the 17-year-old said.
For now, Nanshan strikes a nice balance for me. Even as the more
savvy head north for better snow, this is a satisfying day trip
from Beijing.
Even better you can stretch it to a weekend if you can take the
Monday morning muscle aches. The resort has log cabins and villas
where you can choose from "Finnish" or "Norwegian" - and as every
skier or boarder knows, the aprs ski can be just as thrilling as
the skiing itself.
For more information, see www.nanshanski.com.
(China Daily January 17, 2008)