The contrast with London’s wet winter streets is stark and sensuous. Just a few hours after bidding farewell to England, a quick one-and-a-half hour flight to Geneva and a train journey to Le Châble, just south of Verbier, Switzerland, I’m at the trailhead of La Barmasse, at the foot of the 3,084-metre Mont Rogneux, and ready to embark on a splitboarding adventure.

With cold fingers I fix black, woolly sealskins to the bottoms of the two skis of a splitboard, taking pains to ensure there are no air bubbles between base and glue. Moments later, as uninterrupted sunlight and pellucid blue skies darken into a brilliant celestial tapestry, we begin our ascent into a pillowed snowscape of evergreen forest that the Brothers Grimm might have dreamt up. The dry alpine air, richly oxygenated by European spruce, feels nothing short of therapeutic.

Splitboarding, the snowboarding equivalent of ski touring (or ski de randonnée), has become a rising force in the world of winter sports over the past decade. As might be surmised from the name, a splitboard is essentially a snowboard that splits in half to become two skis. Utilising this technology, one can climb mountains, explore the backcountry and reach spots that even a helicopter would be hard-pressed to access. For the devoted skier, untracked powder is the preeminent luxury, and touring allows one to reach its best.

It’s not without its challenges, though. The lethal spectre of avalanche and accident hanging over snow-covered mountains means that one must prepare for every eventuality before venturing into the backcountry.

Verbier is one of the few resorts worldwide where one can drop into a rental facility and walk out with the full touring kit needed to mitigate those risks: avalanche transceiver, probe, shovel, a splitboard with special pivoting bindings, sealskins, telescopic poles and a ski-specific 40-litre backpack. With this, along with spare clothes, water, a headtorch, first aid, food and sundry other small but necessary items, we continue up the mountain into the darkness, climbing from 1,300 to 2,103 metres, led by our guide Richard Michellod.

Perhaps of any article one brings along, a physically fit guide of cool mind and ample experience is the most important, and Michellod ticks both of those boxes.

As we rise through the temperate zone into the threshold of the Alpine, the trees begin to dwindle and the moonlight congeals to the point where head torches are no longer necessary. Happy to be in the mountains, experiencing a jolt of joie de vivre, I round out the climb with a clumsy sprint to the mountain restaurant Cabane Brunet, where we dust down snowy clothing and make merry in the mountain refuge.

The landlord Jean-Marc Corthay arrives, arms freighted with bottles of local light red Gamay and crisp white Fondente, both from the Valais region, which puts some heat back in the blood. It’s the roiling blonde cauldron of raclette and gruyère, however, that really drives home the fact that we’re in Switzerland. We dispatch two bowls of it with crusty bread, cornichons and pickled onions, before ordering a third. Michellod recommends that we drink peppermint tea to avoid the molten cheese going claggy in the stomach.

The mountain restaurant Cabane Brunet

I arise in the morning to hot coffee and the house cat, a grey tiger named Spatule, who runs amok among legs of tables, chairs and guests. In the still dark we organise our equipment then emerge into an alpine mountainscape denuded of trees but thronged with rock, snow and stars. We continue our ascent through knife-cold air. Roseate alpenglow blossoms to the east, eventually unfurling into crisp daylight. Striking out for Mont Rogneux, flanked by the towering Petit Combin and Grand Combin, we follow the ski tracks through fields of unblemished powder.

At an easy pace, we ascend 900 metres over three hours before eating sandwiches on top of a muscular ridge of gneiss beneath the Col du Rogneux. It’s not what we had initially set out for, but Michellod explains that, for splitboarders, it’ll be easier to descend from this point as there are no long, flat spans to contend with. Removing and packing the sealskins and preparing ourselves for the descent is a bit of a faff, but it’s worth it for the solitary downhill and impeccable snow.

The phrase ‘earn your turns’ has become one of those dusty old adages that, like cockroaches, survives the test of time – but there’s truth in it. As we descend 1,450 vertical metres we criss-cross the track we’d taken to get to Col du Rogneux at various intersections. After exerting ourselves for one long run, after two days’ climb, each turn feels precious. It’s my first time on a board since before the pandemic and I’m a little rusty, but it’s as fine a reintroduction to the sport as one could wish for.

When we arrive at the trailhead, our transport makes a beeline to the lifts to catch the last gondola to Cabane Mont Fort. At 2,457 metres it’s one of the more prominent high mountain refuges in the area, an infamous stop-off on the Haute Route. Here, we bid adieu to the last day-skiers enjoying the panoramic, Imax-worthy vista from the outdoor pavilion, crack beers and watch the sun set over Mont Blanc and Grand Combin. The exclusivity, not to mention the lager, is intoxicating.

The next day, after sleeping like Rip Van Winkle for eleven hours, I bag first tracks on the pistes to catch a series of lifts and arrive at the 2,740-metre peak of Chassoure for a day of ‘slackcountry’ – off-piste that’s reachable by skinning or hiking from the resort. We bootpack parallel to the ridgeline and above the frozen Lac des Vaux before popping up on the other side for the descent.

The trail is named Champs Ferret, which translates to ‘Rock Garden’. It’s aptly named as it’s pocked with shark-like lurkers of gneiss and granite waiting to blow up your board. It’s a lot of fun. We drop into steeps from the ridge. Rooster tails abound before the slope planes out into a series of shelves resembling a staircase. The snow is unbelievable, and mostly untracked.

From here, we return by lift to Mont Fort for one final run down its saddle with the peak of Bec des Rosses. Immense spruce stand sentinel in towering copses downslope, wide bald gaps of sintering powder between them. It’s made more personal when Michellod points out the mayens – little huts for housing cattle – that he used to work in as a child.

Even though it’s only been a couple of days since taking off for the mountains, there’s still a surreal aspect to arriving back in the village of Verbier. Strong drinks quickly wash away the sensation.

Verbier is easily one of the most sought-after resort towns in the Alps, and certainly in Switzerland. Many of London’s top brands have opted to set up shop here, with the wine-obsessed private members’ club 67 Pall Mall occupying prime frontage on Rue de Médran, and both Gregory Marchand’s famous Gallic enclave Frenchie, and Experimental Group’s Experimental Verbier, further east. Searching for the classic Swiss aprés experience, we let loose with cocktails at the excellent Alp & Horn before settling in at a supper for the ages at Le Rouge.

Walking off the evening’s overindulgences the next morning, I stride past the flagship Burton snowboarding store in the middle of town and do a double take. I’m surprised to see that the central window display features a splitboard with all the trimmings: crampons, skins, poles… the lot. Everything required to ascend and freeride the extraordinary terrain hemming the resort.

During the enforced isolation of the pandemic, many people, particularly those who value the outdoors, had to become more autonomous in their pursuits. Splitboarding embodies this principle, and for neophytes looking to give it a shot, there’s perhaps nowhere better in the Alps than Verbier.

Hôtel de l’Ermitage, from £147 per night per room, ermitage-verbier.ch; Cabane Mont Fort, from £42 per person per room, cabanemontfort.com; Swiss operates up to 180 weekly flights to Switzerland from London Heathrow and London City, swiss.com; the Swiss Transfer train ticket covers a round-trip between the airport/Swiss border and destination, from £131.50, sbb.ch; verbier.ch

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