Irish highs

Following a winter’s worth of precipitation, Ireland is looking particularly emerald right now. Chris and I are over in County Kerry for his father Michael’s birthday-and-Easter-combined bash. He and Jane’s cottage, Seal Rock (kenmareirishcottages.com), is half an hour’s drive from Kenmare along the Iveragh peninsula. The cottage sits at the end of Rossmore Island, which is connected to the mainland by a tiny bridge. Just over the bridge is a lovely and quirky little hotel, the Tahilla Cove, where we drop in on arrival, it being cocktail hour for the Rossmore regulars.

Seal spotting from Seal Rock Cottage

The view from Seal Rock is pure drama, out towards the the mountains of the Beara and the Atlantic beyond. For now, it’s sunny and warm so we can linger on the patio and stare out to sea. 

Sea view to the Beara peninsula 

One of my pre-party jobs is to set the Easter-egg hunt. I find plenty of nooks and crannies in the dry-slate wall. In the event there are only three kids, so they average 30-odd eggs each (mini-ones, mind you).

Wall of chocolate

Turns out Mike and Jane’s bash is an upmarket affair, with a marquee, caterers, and a father-and-son singing duo to entertain us all. Chris’s cousin Anne-Louise comes up from Cork with her family – they’ve bought a couple of canoes and plan to spend Sunday pootling around the coast.

The crowd-pleasing Kellehers

Best lemon meringue pie ever

Sunday is a full Irish breakfast on the terrace, then it’s off in the open-top Merc to Parknasilla, a hotel and estate near Sneem (love that name) that was once owned by the Bishop of Limerick (grandfather of the writer Robert Graves). 

A breakfast place in the sun

We explore all the trails, then walk back to Seal Rock via a bit of the Kerry Way long-distance trail. It weaves around the back of farms, derelict cottages, over bleak moorland and back down to the almost tropical Tahilla Cove. 

Serene Parknasilla scene

Kicking off on The Kerry Way

The party bus missed the turn-off

Moving on from Seal Rock, we explore a few hidden corners of Cork and Kerry on our way to Waterford, where we're booked in to a plush hotel for a couple of days. We walk a little of the Beara Way, wild and moorish…

A barren stretch of The Beara Way

…and visit Gougane Barra, where St Finbarr established a monastic settlement in the sixth century. He went on to became the first bishop and founder of the city of Cork at the mouth of the River Lee, which has its source here at Gougane Barra. The prayer cells are still intact in the ruins of the monastery, and Mass rocks around the site have been scored by countless pilgrims, who come to honour St Finbarr by doing the 'rounds', a 13-step path of prayer.

There be pilgrims

Nearby, the more recently built oratory casts reflections in the water. The place has an undeniably spiritual feel, but it's no surprise to learn that it's also a popular backdrop for wedding photos.  

The oratory at Gougane Barra

Designs on Flaine

Flaine is the ski-resort equivalent of Marmite. There's no middle road in the appraisal of its architecture. And who better to give me a new appreciation for its concrete charms than the four architects in our group?

Langmuirs above the resort

The resort was built in the 1960s, the alpine branch of the post-war and Europe-wide wave of interest in healthy living. It was the tail end of the baby-boomer generation and families of four, five, six children were commonplace (ain't that the truth – us four siblings have 21 cousins). The family that exercises together… well, let's just say that a fit and healthy new generation was to rise from the embers of the world war, to become the moves and shakers of a brave new world. In my neck of the woods, south-east London, the new deal took the shape of a project called the Peckham Experiment, with its now-famous apartment block built around a swimming pool. France had its mountains, the outdoor gym to beat them all. So Hungarian architect and a 'boss' of Bauhaus, Marcel Breuer, was brought in to design the hub of a new resort. Highlights include the main apartment complex, the hotel with the overhang and, nestled in the midst of it all, his perfect little chapel.

Shades of concrete

I used to be among Flaine's detractors, immune to the subtlety of its shades and shadows, though no one could deny it's the ultimate in ski convenience. But having checked out the cool little exhibition on its design, and seeing the buildings in the sunshine, as well as blending into the brown of the hill, I find I like it a lot. Far from being cold and clinical, it's all warmth and approachability. 

As Marcel Breuer said: "The architecture of Flaine is an example of application of the principle of shadow and light which I adopted. The facades of the buildings are cut as points of diamond. Sunbeams strike their facets under different angles; contrasted lightings result from their reflection."

Breuer's Le Flaine hotel, with its cantilevered terrace

The understated chapel

And the modern sculptures, including a Picasso, lend quirkiness and humour to the central Forum. I still love a traditional chalet, but isn't it a joy to have both?

Top of the form: a piece by Jean Dubuffet

Spring snow

I’m taking a very late season ski break this year, the last week that many of the lifts are open, in fact. Some years ago my brother Roddy awarded Flaine the accolade of being the optimum family resort. He and his wife Kate hit upon the genius plan of taking their ski holiday at Easter, self-catering to keep costs down. Flaine is high, so there’s always snow and, for anyone with children, the piste map is cleverly designed so that all runs lead back home, to the open bowl and the village, or Forum as it’s called here. 

Cate and Kate with Mont Blanc

Roddy and Kate still come every Easter, despite the fact that this year we’re missing Mo and Chloe, who are deep in A-level revision at home. And each year, they introduce an increasing number of buddies to this unassuming resort – this year we number 25, spread across five apartments. Ability ranges from absolute beginner to former Olympian. No, really.

I’ve had a bit of a break from winter sports, apart from the odd day in the Highlands. But if anything is tailor-made to get me ski fit, it’s bombing around the pistes with family and fast friends. That and the clear blue skies we enjoy all week.

The fast-cruising crew

It’s even fun taking time out to coach nervous newcomers, and try to temper the hot-headed teenagers who don’t realise they’re out of control. Or maybe they do and that’s the thrill. 

Three teen amigos: Rory, Patrick and Benjie

The youngest in our party is a little livewire, Isolde, who happens to turn seven half way through the holiday. It’s only her second week on snow and yet she decides to make it her mission to flatten Adrian, a pal of Rod’s who is making marvellous headway, but is snowploughing through only his second day on skis. She swoops down after him like a heat-seeking missile, jacket open, hair flying, all the while cackling like a witch. Rory is none too amused when she misses her target and mows him down instead. 

Isolde in a quiet moment

There are injuries, of course. The relentless sunshine turns the snow heavy and we ratchet up a twisted knee, a split lip, and a trip in the ‘bloodwagon’ for young Tiger, in a swoon of terror on an icy piste one morning. Our transfer driver Adele turns out to be a masseur and does some work on Simon and Hugo who, to be fair, have just run the London Marathon. We all make the most of the outdoor hot tub, for muscle revival (that post-lunchtime slush is tough on the thighs), until one day when a small child tells Isolde she’s just peed in it.

All joining in by the end of the week

There are two birthdays and a wedding anniversary during the week, a chance to improvise with the limited cake opportunities on offer at the Sherpa supermarket. 

Sasha and Simon's anniversary 'cake'

Kids tea is a lively affair

Cooking is a challenge – no ovens – so we split the adults and kids suppers and take it in turns to grapple with the hobs and grills.  

Bruschetta appetisers

Over the canapés, current affairs are discussed more than is usual on a ski holiday. That’s because we have Roddy and Kate’s journalist/broadcaster friend Anne along with us (mother of three of the fearless children). Whether or not you agree with Anne’s views, it livens up the after-dinner debate, and she does cook a mean asparagus risotto.