There’s an unremarkable shopping centre outside Birmingham called Merry Hill. In 1998, it was the nearest place 14-year-old me could buy cool clothes. So I would travel alone, catching two trains and a bus, to reach the hallowed ground of JJB Sports within. The now defunct store was a teenager peacocker’s dream: lime-green Kappa trackies, fluoro Nike Airmaxes. On my first ever visit, I spent £40 on a cherry-red Ellesse jumper. Vast, vast sums of money, but it didn’t matter: this dangerously cool, deeply sensual sweater was my best chance of getting girls’ attention at the upcoming school Christmas party.
Compliments flew in from both sexes as I arrived at the low-lit sports hall a week later. The Ellesse-effect was working a charm. But the dance floor was soon a sizzle of sweat and hormones, so I left my prized pullover n the back of a chair. When I returned it had, of course, gone—and with it, any chance of snogging Lauren Harrison. It was, quite possibly, my worst party ever.
Imagine my surprise, 26 years later to find myself once again surrounded by Ellesse clobber when I arrived at Tomorrowland Winter, a high-concept dance music festival in the dreamy ski resort of Alpe d’Huez. Like all things 90s, the brand was enjoying a resurgence, and had signed up as one of the event’s principal sponsors.
Tomorrowland is, by sheer numbers, the world’s biggest music festival. Its summer edition in Belgium draws 400,000 people from more than 200 countries. The winter version, launched in 2019, is a more intimate affair at 22,000, but it’s still easily the largest event of its kind in the Alps. (Snowbombing, the nearest thing it has to a rival, sells around 7,000 tickets each year). There are a total of eight stages scattered around the mountain. Like the mad creations that have made the Belgian original famous, all of them lean heavily into high-fidelity fantasy.
“Intergalactic light shows & gargantuan metal props collide in a dopamine fever dream”
My year’s theme was “Amicorum Spectaculum” – a kind of vintage-circus-via-Roman-forum concept. It sounds like nonsense, because it is, but that doesn’t detract from the spectacle. Watching the show from the mezzanine level in the main-stage super tent was tantamount to looking through a kaleidoscope on psychedelics. The production is staggering. Intergalactic light shows, gargantuan mechanical props, and cutting edge projection tech, collide to create a dopamine fever-dream, the likes of which your eyes have never been force-fed.
As for your ears, Armin van Buuren, Afrojack and Steve Aoki were the big hitters, with the latter pumping out a confetti of beats so relentless, that made me down my Tuborg and smilingly snow plough into the bedizen crowd below. The real fans. Or, as the festival calls them, slightly toe-curlingly, “the People of Tomorrow”. Any pre-event predictions of superciliousness, though, were quickly put to bed.
As a demographic, I found the POTs a bit older, a bit more enthusiastic and—because they’re from a broad smattering of nationalities—a bit nicer than I expected. That is to say, a bit nicer than if this had been an exclusively British affair, with honking poshos sousing the mountain in Whispering Angel.
Sure, this is skiing in the French Alps, and a 7-day festival ticket (which admittedly includes your liftpass) costs €710 (£613)—roughly double the cost of Glastonbury, so it’s a fairly bougie endeavour. But the crowd feels inclusive, and incredibly-welcoming to someone like myself who’s an occasional skier. My beloved, who’s never been skiing, felt that too.
Lights, lazers, action
In the festival village at night, we particularly enjoyed the festooned chalet-style bars away from the stages proper. They were still popping, but at a volume that made chatting to strangers unstrained. It was cold enough to see your breath, but hot enough—after a few Jäger bombs—to unzip your ski jacket. Around us, at a stage crowned with an enormous tilting head, and flags from Colombia, Japan, Belgium and Brazil flapped in the wind. It’s a thing at Tomorrowland, apparently, that people are encouraged to fly their home country’s flag.
Debby Wilmsen, Tomorrowland’s head spokesperson, told me that a number of festival goers come alone, so giving people a “warm, welcoming feeling” is a priority. “Especially today, with so much conflict and division, it’s important for a festival to show that people can still come together—to enjoy themselves, to care for one another, and to look out for each other.” The People of Tomorrow, indeed.
Debby says that many of the guests are here, primarily, to ski by day, with the nighttime spectacular seen as an added bonus. “But they often combine it with a city trip to Paris, Nice, Lyon or Bordeaux,” she said, “so it becomes a proper holiday.” In recent years, the organisers have started offering Paris stopovers as an optional part of their packages—a surefire win with those jetting in from further afield. Personally, I tell her, I don’t think I’ve ever preferred the daytime at a festival before. But then I’d never been to a festival in a ski resort before.
Après, amplified
On day two, we woke late, skipped breakfast, and headed for the slopes, where we… ordered a takeaway pizza, bought some plonk, borrowed a beanbag by the nursery runs, and chain-smoked while watching the People of Tomorrow slide past. Peak living, if you’ll pardon the pun. We did eventually get some skiing in. My beloved headed off for a lesson, and I cruised round the afternoon slopes as they grew progressively more slushy. When the moguls got too big, I jumped on the Marmotte series of gondolas, which take you up to the Pic Blanc at 3,300m, where you can ski some of the highest groomed slopes in France.
There are very few things more enjoyable than carving several thousand metres down a series of perfectly-laid out pistes to meet your waiting partner at a bar converted into its own festival stage. A Macbook-crisp cerulean sky backdropped a bamboo mis-en-scène, with what looked like an enormous dreamcatcher as its centre piece. Not sure how the Crystal Garden stage fit the overall roman theme, but it looked pretty.
Beneath the giant dream catcher, we and a goldilocks-number of revellers beamed while dancing a jaunty daft-punk-style jig in our awkward ski boots, and then a Slovakian woman in a vintage one-piece gave me her last Haribo. Everyone knows that skiing tipsy is another of life’s great pleasures, and I delighted in very slowly pizza ploughing down the mountain as golden hour lit up the village below. Tomorrowland’s production values might be world-class, but nothing can outdo the show put on by mother nature in the mountains. At dusk, we got dressed in silly outfits and took posterity snaps together on a hill behind the hotel. There’s nothing like a sky of bleeding lilac, peach, and raspberry sorbet hues to crank the romance.
For the evening’s action, I put on a box-fresh Ellesse beanie that I’d been given as a freebie—positioning the half-tennis-ball logo so it faced forward, like a glowing third-eye chakra. We blagged our way into a corporate VIP bar on the Belle Etage and necked a few free rosés before getting caught and heading down to the dance floor for the Euro-cheese euphonia of Amin Van Buuren’s “This is What it Feels Like”. I held my gal tight and kissed her like we were teenagers again. The Ellesse-effect, doing its thing. Best party ever? Quite possibly. Looking her deeply in the eyes, I asked: “Have you ever been to Merry Hill? … I’ll take you some time.”
Five more on-snow festivals
Snowbombing – Mayrhofen, Austria
Europe’s pioneering snow-party hybrid, Snowbombing brings big-name DJs and fancy dress chaos to the Austrian Alps. Expect piste-side raves, igloo parties and a full-on après scene. Think Tomorrowland but with added Jäger.
Snowboxx – Avoriaz, France
Ski all day, dance all night. Snowboxx turns the car-free resort of Avoriaz into a week-long party with open-air arenas, forest stages and bottomless fondue sessions. Bonus: it’s more affordable than most alpine festivals.
Polaris – Verbier, Switzerland
For those who like their techno deep and their mountains steep. Polaris is a classier affair – think chalet parties, minimal beats and a jaw-dropping dome stage perched at 2,200m. Michelin stars meet modular synths.
Rave on Snow – Saalbach, Austria
One for the proper tech heads. Rave on Snow has been packing Austrian slopes with heavyweight house and techno since ’93. Less glitz, more EDM BPM grit. Underground music with altitude.
Igloofest – Montreal, Canada
Canada’s coolest festival, literally. Held outside in sub-zero temperatures, Igloofest swaps ski slopes for city snowbanks – with ice bars, LED snowsuits and EDM bangers lighting up the Old Port. Gloves and glowsticks essential.
Snow how
Our trip
Damien’s trip was supported by Tomorrowland Winter. The next winter edition will take place from March 21st to March 27th, 2026. 7-Day, 4-Day, and single day passes are available now, as are inclusive 7-Day and 4-Day packages, complete with various options for accommodation and transport. Despite its size, the festival often sells out, so book early if you want to go.
Getting there
If you prefer to organize your own transport, Grenoble is the closest mainline train station. TGVs run multiple times a day from Paris Gare de Lyon, taking just under three hours, so you can easily get a train from London St Pancras with just one change (and a change of stations) in Paris. If you feel the need to fly, Ryanair, Easyjet and British Airways operate regular flights to Grenoble Airport.
Transaltitude public busses or private transfers are available from both to Alpe d’Huez.
