GLOBETROTTER: Head for heights

These French valleys, dominated by Western Europe's highest peak, Mont Blanc, offer some of the best downhill action in the world. But I’m not here to ski.

The names Megève, Le Plan and Chamonix may be synonymous with the joys of hurtling through powder snow with the beautiful people, but, shhh! don’t tell anyone, but they’re even better when the snow has gone.

Which is why I came to be throwing myself down an Alp – on two wheels.

The trick, I learned quickly, when mountain biking down a precipitous incline is to control your brakes. If you really must slow down, use both front and back at the same time. Tug on your front anchors alone, and you can look forward to an aerobatic display which would put Eddie ‘the Eagle’ Edwards to shame, followed by a very hard landing.

Master that, though, and, once you’ve found your balance and your nerve, you’re guaranteed the most exhilerating ride of your life; as good, and probably better than anything you can do with two strips of metal or a board strapped to your feet.

And then there’s the scenery. And what scenery! This is the roof of Europe; glacier-strewn Mont Blanc rising to 4,810m, and hemmed in by even more dramatic elevations – the jagged summits of the Aiguelles, or Needles, looking for all the world like a child’s finger painting of what a peak should look like. In other words, real mountains.

And what better way to explore them than from one of Savoie’s famous ski resorts. Exclusive in winter, places like Combloux, St Gervais-les-Bains and, especially, Megève, ooze charm and sophistication. A world away from those faceless purpose-built ski centres that pepper much of the Alps, these are real working towns; just particularly lovely ones.

They each look like a scene from an early Bond movie: impossibly pretty clusters of Alpine chalets huddled around tidy squares packed with boutiques, high-end jewellery shops, cosy bars and the odd casino. 007 could be expected to drop in on a Union Jack parachute at any moment.

And, come spring or summer, and with the ski crowds gone, you, and the cheery locals, will have the valleys to yourself.

Yet, there’s no getting away from it, it is the mountains which are the real draw. Which is why I came to be reliving my days as a less than intrepid boy Scout, with a bunch of like-minded friends, all eager to shake off the stresses of city life, and all having railed there after a very easy, and (thanks to French trains’ civilized onboard bars) well-lubricated day’s travel from Oxford to the heart of the Alps (by way of the Eurostar from St Pancras, and a double-decker TGV from Paris to Chambery).

And, having proved our mettle as mountain bikers, we decided to go even higher; this time on foot – though with a head start from one of Europe’s most spectacular forms of public transport.

Heading out of St Gervaise, the Tramway du Mont Blanc trundles and clatters its way through woods, meadows and bare rock on its way to Le Nid d’Aigle – the Eagle’s Eyrie. And, with the help of one of the local mountain guides, you can jump off half-way and dive straight into this Alpine playground, crossing the glacier, banks of morraine, sheer cliffs and raging glacial meltwater before descending back into the forest and into civilization.

As incredible as the mountain looks from a distance, nothing prepares you for getting up close to this arrogant and aloof A-list celeb of the mountain world.

While its summit is perpetually capped in snow and ice, its rock-encrusted glaciers give way to mossy forests, torrents and waterfalls crossed by rope bridges, and lush meadows of the most vivid green – the haunt of cattle with Heidi-style clanking cowbells, and inquisitive marmots (the resident population of chubby, ground squirrels). Oh, and absolutely no people. This is the real ‘big country’; a place you can be alone for as long as you please. The land – a living representation of one of those glacier diagrams from your old school geography textbook – is higher, wider and more remote than certainly I ever imagined.

Which makes the thermal spa at St Gervais-le-Bains, at its base, all the more inviting. Recently given a stylish makeover, this historic centre of healing is now also the haunt of hedonists, who come to unwind with a massage, facial, sauna, or simply sooth their aching muscles in its steaming open-air spiral of interconnected hot tubs, while gazing up at the wooded hills rising vertically above.

If the idea of soaking up some of the planet’s most dramatic mountain scenery seems appealing, but the effort of biking, hiking or climbing to see it is less enticing, consider getting off the ground altogether. With their four-seat single-propeller ‘Mousquetaire’ aircraft, Aerocime operate flights from Megève ‘altiport’ right across the Mont Blanc Massif.

It’s a heart-stoppingly exciting way to get into the heart of the mountain sanctuary – a place where there is not a single trace of human existence, just a vast expanse of icefields, razor-like ridges, glaciers, splintered rock, and blinding snow. And from the cockpit, you get a 360-degree view. And, with the planes hugging the bare rock cliffs and sweeping just a few metres above the snow and ice, you get very close indeed.

For the price of a decent meal each, Aerocime’s glacially-cool Rayban-sporting pilots will give you a life-changing experience - especially if you can blag yourself the co-pilot’s seat. Just remember to pack your sunglasses; it is dazzling up there.

Whether you see it by foot, saddle or air, the memory of all that geography will reignite your inner adventurer and will stay with you forever. And, after all, why should the skiers have all the fun!