High above the rest of the world he stands out sharply against the deep blue sky: a priest in a bright white habit that seems to glow against the virgin snow and the jagged, white-tipped peaks on the horizon. ‘If the people don’t come to the church, the church comes to them,’ the priest says with a sparkle in his eye. With a gentle smile, he offers me a host and blesses both me and my skis—no joke, no costume party, but a true blessing, right here on top of the world. Welcome to the Val d’Aran, where the divine, legend, and reality flow into one another.
The Val d’Aran, or Vall d’Aran in Catalan, lies on the northern flank of the Catalan Pyrenees, like a hidden crown jewel surrounded by mountain peaks that brush the sky. The climate here is unique, ensuring a high level of snow reliability. ‘Aran’ is a Basque-origin word meaning ‘valley’. Val d’Aran is therefore technically a pleonasm—literally ‘valley of the valley’. The name is a remnant of pre-Roman times, when the area was influenced by the Aquitani culture, closely related to that of the Basques. In antiquity, the Garonne River, which rises in the Val d’Aran, served as a natural boundary between the lands of the Aquitani and the Gauls. The Garonne meanders whimsically through the valley, like an indecisive nomad unsure whether it belongs to Spain or France. The valley’s diversity is reflected in a vibrant mix of cultures, languages, and traditions, like an undiscovered treasure map inviting you to venture further and further.
Baqueira-Beret, the ski resort I chose with my best friends and my daughter to really tear it up on skis and board, is a sprawling and welcoming ski area. It’s easily accessible by airplane via Barcelona or Toulouse, and then just a short drive by rental car. Compared to France and Switzerland, the prices for accommodations, food and drink, and ski passes are more than excellent. Really, more than excellent.
‘Queen Máxima was here last week,’ I hear someone say in Dutch when I pause halfway down a splendid slope. I turn around and see my friends—Maarten, Jasper, Lange Hans, Hans, Marcel, Matthijs, Vincent, and my daughter Chloe—dancing over the snow like tiny, colourful dots. The thought that our own Dutch queen, Máxima, recently glided gracefully across these slopes like a snow princess adds a royal touch to the descent.
But it’s not just Máxima who feels at home here; former Spanish king Juan Carlos I has also been coming to Baqueira-Beret for years, drawn by over 171 kilometers of slopes offering countless possibilities. With every turn in the snow, I feel how the mountains lend me a noble air—not with a crown or ermine robe, but with a broad smile on my face and glowing, steeled thighs.
Is there anything better than speeding downhill on skis, and then, with the cold in your nose and the wind on your face, pausing for a moment? I wipe a tear of speed from the corner of my eye and look around. This silent, white world—where snowy peaks, frozen lakes, and whispering waterfalls reach out to one another. Is that a chamois leaping away over there? Nature here in the Catalan Pyrenees is boundlessly fabulous.
But the bow cannot always be drawn. After a day of exertion, my friends and I let ourselves sink into the thermal baths of Termas Baronía de Les. Sulfurous water bubbles up from the depths of the earth. A crackling fire of large wooden logs burns beside the pool. Steam, fragrant and mystical, envelops us like a warm embrace. I float in various pools, gazing out at snowy peaks, feeling fatigue and muscle aches melt away like snow in the sun. A cup of tea in hand. Chill. This mineral oasis is a filling station for the soul.
The Val d’Aran is a living history book, with stone houses, slate roofs, and massive wooden beams that seem to withstand the centuries. Val d’Aran is first mentioned by that name in the 11th-century poem Canço de Santa Fe. Here, now and then, you can still hear Aranese, an ancient Romanesque language preserved in this isolated valley like a linguistic cocoon.
‘The earliest traces of Christianity in the region date back to the early fifth century,’ my daughter reads aloud from Wikipedia in the gondola. ‘Around that time, when the Visigoths conquered the area. Since then, it has always existed on the edge between the Merovingian north and the Iberian south, both geographically, politically, and culturally.’ You can still sense that early Christianity here.
BOÍ TAÜLL
We head out for a day of Val d’Aran, getting to Alta Ribagorça comarca and skiing in Boí Taüll, about an hour’s drive from Baqueira-Beret. Not only is Boí Taüll, with a peak at 2,751 meters, the highest ski resort in the Catalan Pyrenees, it’s also close to the famous Romanesque churches of the Vall de Boí, Unesco World Heritage sites and cultural treasure troves. A perfect combination of winter sports and culture.
We visit the Romanesque church of Sant Climent de Taüll. Inside, digital techniques project the original frescoes—which adorned these walls a thousand years ago—back onto those same walls. It’s as if you step into a church disguised as a time machine. Saints gaze at us intently, with a devout smile. Past and present flow together like meltwater.
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Where kings and queens ski, nature, culture, and adventure meet.
We know where to go. We know the best places to stay. And we know the local partners who turn a trip into something unforgettable. That’s why when we design your journey, it isn’t just a holiday. It’s a story you’ll carry for life.
Our mission is simple: to inspire you to explore the world with curiosity, optimism, enthusiasm, and respect. To connect with cultures, to marvel at breathtaking landscapes, and to embrace the beauty of untamed nature.
So, tell us — what once-in-a-lifetime adventure may we design for you?
Back in Val d’Aran, after another day of smooth descents, it’s time for a different kind of snowy fun. On snowmobiles, we zoom beneath the fir trees, deep into the woods, away from anything resembling humanity.
Under a sky full of stars, we arrive at a remote inn. Inside await warm local soup, a crackling fireplace, and stories from old friends together on an adventure. Beneath heavy beams and near a cosy fire, platters of local specialties are passed around, while outside snowflakes descend like fine, glittering confetti. Whoever dines here celebrates.
We taste Olla aranesa, a hearty stew, and civet de jabalí, wild boar in red wine. Fine Catalan wines complete the meal. Laughter hangs in the air, its echoes whispering through the night. These are the moments you do it all for. Together we relive times that have never truly disappeared, old memories deepening the new.
As always, the last descent comes too soon. At the top of the slope, I hold my breath. Below, the valley lies bathed in an orange-red glow, as if the sun were painting its farewell in golden hues.
I think of the priest in his red ski boots and the blessing he bestowed upon me, here high on the roof of the Pyrenees of Catalonia, like an angel in disguise. The Val d’Aran never sends you away empty-handed. It grants you beautiful memories, the most valuable on earth. I truly feel blessed.
Experience your own royal adventure in the Val d’Aran and the Catalan Pyrenees. Visit www.visitpirineus.com/en and
www.catalunya.com and let mountains, snow, flavour, and timelessness caress your soul.
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