Aiguille de Péclet

Keep off the chairs.

You've got champagne showers spraying from the VIP balconies, 2,000 people singing along to club classics, and the jagged peak of the Aiguille de Péclet glowing pink in the sunset directly behind the DJ booth.

It is easily one of the most euphoric high-energy three hours you can experience in the mountains.

It is pure magic.

No roads, no chalets, not even a summer hut.

Just a desolate, windswept cirque of scree and glaciers under the Aiguille de Péclet.

Back in the 1950s, the entire Belleville Valley was one of the poorest corners of the Savoie region.

It was on its knees, honestly.

The sheer energy of Val Thorens today is like nowhere else in the Alps.

You step out onto the Place de Caron at 8:30 in the morning, and the crisp, thin alpine air just hits you right in the chest.

The sun is lighting up the peaks of the Aiguille de Péclet, the lift towers are humming, and there is this incredible collective buzz as thousands of skiers from all over the world get ready to drop into the slopes.

And the geographical stats of this place are just mind-boggling.