From husky sledding and chasing the northern lights in Lapland to bear-spotting in Transylvania, here’s our pick of wild and magical snowy breaks in Europe

At Ruka, the first skiers of the year slalomed down the slopes on 2 October. Just inside the Arctic Circle, Ruka’s long snow-sure season and cosy village atmosphere make it a popular ski resort with Finnish families. The long polar nights mean there are only a few hours of dim twilight each day, but the slopes here are floodlit, so that never stops play.

Gondolas on demand, electric piste-grooming and chemical-free snow cannons – how Laax is ‘greenstyling’ its future

It’s the worst ski resort nightmare: hillsides of shaggy yellow grass streaked with slush under a leaden sky that’s coughing up sleet. Parts of Europe – places previously accustomed to crisp snow fields and pristine blue skies – are now facing this calamity, something meteorologists might describe as a British winter.

Not everywhere, of course. Only lower altitudes are seeing such disasters. Higher up, normal service continues. I’m in the Swiss resort of Laax, where most of the slopes are at about 2,000 metres, lofty enough to be snow-secure, for now. The halfpipe is busy with dudes in baggy trousers and headphones nonchalantly practising their double corks. On the traditional pistes there are four-year-olds who could probably ski before they could walk. And then – Switzerland has its wacky side – three young men in first-world-war greatcoats on antique wooden skis propel themselves with rough-hewn quarter-staves.

From cosy Alpine villages to queue-free skiing, you tell us where to head to avoid the crowds

• Tell us about a conservation tourism experience – the best tip wins a £200 holiday voucher

Bad Gastein is a relatively unknown gem. The Austrian state it sits in, Salzburg, offers free local transport (the guest mobility ticket) if you are staying in the state, so you can travel to the resort via train for nothing. The slopes are directly next to the station, too.
Rob Owen

Hitting the piste in Verbier doesn’t come cheap, but in laid-back La Tzoumaz you can access the same pistes without such a steep price tag

I’m standing at 3,330 metres on a tall metal platform with a heavy harness strapped to my back, gazing in awe at the snow-covered Matterhorn, Mont Blanc and the Dents du Midi ridge. It’s a gorgeous distraction while I wait to be clipped in and launched down the valley at 120 kilometres an hour. This is the Mont Fort zip line, the highest in the world. I sit with my legs dangling over the precipice, then with a stomach-churning clunk the mechanism releases and I speed through the air over tiny figures skiing below. It’s exhilarating and over too soon. I’m grinning ear to ear, my lungs full of high mountain air.

I’m in Verbier, one of Switzerland’s most famous ski resorts. With access to 410km of pristine piste, excellent alpine food and a legendary après-ski culture, what’s not to like? Well, for many, the price. Verbier has long been favoured by A-listers and royalty, with eye-watering prices to match. Happily, there is a way to enjoy the same slopes, with much less of a financial hit. Stay in the village of La Tzoumaz (pronounced La Tsoo-mah), where accommodation can be half the price of Verbier, and you’re one chairlift away from the entire Four Valleys ski area. And as I discover, this “back door” resort has plenty of its own charms too.

In celebration of the Milano Cortina Winter Olympics, which starts this week, paralympic swimming champion Simone Barlaam shares his favourite places in his hometown

Born in Milan in 2000, Paralympic swimmer Simone Barlaam is a 23-time world champion who won three golds and a silver medal at the 2024 Paris Olympics. He’s a torchbearer and ambassador for the Milano Cortina Winter Olympic Games, which run from 6-22 February (the Paralympic Games run from 6-15 March) at sites across Lombardy and north-east Italy (with events such as speed skating, figure skating and ice hockey in the city). He also worked as a graphic designer for the games.

Barlaam grew up in Milan and lives in NoLo (North of Loreto), a vibrant, artistic neighbourhood. “I’ve lived all over the place, so I can take you around the city and the places that belong to my heart,” he says. Here, he chooses his favourite spots, beyond obvious sights such as the Duomo, La Scala opera house and the glossy Quadrilatero della Moda fashion district.

Forget flashy St Moritz or Zermatt, the unsung village of Arosa has childlike charm, with animal sanctuaries, cool accommodation and kid-friendly tobogganing

On the approach to Arosa in the Graubünden Alps, the road is lined with mountain chapels, their stark spires soaring heavenwards; a portent, perhaps, of the ominous route ahead. The sheer-sided valley is skirted with rugged farmhouses and the road twists, over ravines and round hairpin curves, to a holiday destination that feels like a well-kept secret.

On the village’s frozen lake, young families ice skate, hand in hand. A little farther along, on the snow-covered main street, children sled rapidly downhill, overtaking cars. The resort’s mascots are a happy gang of brown bears. And there are Narnia lamp-posts, which turn the falling snow almost gold every evening. Switzerland is replete with ski towns but none feel quite this innocent and childlike, like stepping into a fairytale.

Cut out flying and you shred skiing’s carbon footprint. And opting for a high-altitude resort that needs less artificial snow makes it even greener. Les Arcs in the French Alps ticks both boxes

I’ve always wanted to try skiing, but it’s not a cheap holiday and I have always had a lingering suspicion that some resorts are like Las Vegas in the mountains, with artificial snow, damaging infrastructure, annihilated vegetation and air-freighted fine dining – in short, profoundly unsustainable.

However, if there’s a way to have a green family ski holiday, then sign me – and my husband, Joe, two kids and my mum – up. Here’s how to do it.

Poor weather couldn’t spoil my high-altitude walking trip amid these stunning peaks, especially with delicious, hearty Tyrolean cuisine to keep me going

When you come to the Dolomites for winter walking, it’s with the intention of having spellbinding snow-streaked peaks that are unlike anything else in the Alps as your constant companion. But with impenetrable cloud and heavy rain forecast, it was hard not to feel deflated.

Then again, this was Italy, where it’s easy to make the best of things whatever the weather. And the 3 Zinnen Dolomites ski resort and nature park – right on Italy’s border with Austria, about two-and-a-half hours north of Venice, is always charming, with the usual jumble of cultures you see in South Tyrol. Part Italian, it’s more Austrian thanks to the legacy of the Habsburgs, who ruled this part of Italy until 1918. Hence most places have an Austrian and an Italian name, 3 Zinnen or Tre Cime (meaning three peaks) being a case in point. It’s the home of Ladin, an ancient Romance language, too.

Ditch the skis – these winter breaks are all about stunning mountain scenery, cosy places to stay and fun activities

Saddle up for sleigh rides, strap in for a 220-metre illuminated toboggan run, and prepare to get lost in an ice-carved maze at the Snowland theme park in Zakopane, as Poland’s winter capital sparkles up for the season. Pair a snowy walk through the Chochołowska valley with a visit to the Chochołowskie thermal baths, with outdoor pools, sauna, balneotherapy and massage treatments. Stay at the Hotel Aries, which mixes classic Alpine design with Zakopane touches (local wine and traditional dishes in the Halka restaurant, furniture and rugs by local craftspeople), and don’t miss the world’s largest snow maze and the Palace of the Snow Queen in the Snowlandia theme park, which has individual chambers sculpted from snow and ice by local artists.
Doubles at Hotel Aries from £165 B&B. Zakopane is around two hours from Krakow by bus; the hotel is a 1km taxi ride from the station

An epic rail trip to Sweden’s Arctic north ends with a surreal skiing experience – and waffles for breakfast while sitting out a snowstorm

The light coming through the sleeper train window wakes me. It’s nearly time. Climbing down the ladder past the other snoozing occupants, I head into the corridor. A few hours ago there were only trees, an endless unfurling ribbon of spruce and birch. Now there is snow, vast banks of it. And sometimes, when the train roars through a big drift, great spumes of white blast out on either side, blocking any view.

In the restaurant car, I watch the map on my phone as a blue dot approaches a straight dashed line. A frozen lake and distant pale mountains appear. Then at 6.09am we cross the Arctic Circle. Forty-eight hours previously, I had been in London St Pancras station, queueing for the Eurostar. Now, five trains later, never having left terra firma, I am in the Arctic. Most of my fellow travellers are Swedes with hefty bags of skis and well-stocked sledges that look expedition-ready. With their weathered faces and lean muscle, they look intimidatingly capable.