Grand Puy: Inside the French ski resort that voted to shut itself down

The majority of residents of Seyne-les-Alpes voted for the closure of the Grand Puy ski resort in the French Alps.

Grand Puy is set to close after 65 years amid fewer skiers, melting snow and mounting debts.

Anthony Julien looked up at a motionless chair lift above a grassy slope at Grand Puy, a ski resort in the French Alps of Haute Provence, and sighed.

“I put body and soul into running this lift over the past six winters at the expense of family. Now I’m going to have to tear it down. I feel like I’m in mourning,” he said under dark, brooding skies.

The 40-year-old municipal worker’s post as Grand Puy’s lift operator in charge of its 13 runs ceased to exist last Sunday when the neighbouring village of Seyne-les-Alpes voted in a referendum to close the winter resort due to fewer skiers, melting snow and mounting debts.

It is believed to be the first such referendum over the fate of a French ski resort struggling in the face of climate change and competition from bigger, higher ones as customers move up the slopes in search of snow. It is the fourth resort to shut in France this autumn.

Built in 1959, Grand Puy is the oldest of three mid-altitude Southern Alps “stations de ski” in the Vallée de la Blanche, around 30 minutes from Digne-les-Bains.

For 65 years, skiers from Provence as far as Marseille – two hours by car – have enjoyed family skiing down its slopes that rise to 1800m for a fraction of the price of Alpine mastodons like Courchevel or Alpe d’Huez. In a recent survey, it was found to be Europe’s third-cheapest ski resort, with a day pass costing just €20 ($35.83).

Grand Puy is the oldest of three mid-altitude "stations de ski" in the French Alps' Vallee de la Blanche. Photo / Getty Images

But the regular absence of snow had led to a drop in visitor numbers, and the resort was racking up losses of €350,000 ($627,000) per year, according to Laurent Pascal, Seyne’s mayor, who said the number of skiers had plummeted almost threefold in a decade.

Some 71% of locals who turned out to vote in a referendum last Sunday were in favour of “the closure of the winter resort” and the development of “activities independent of the ski lifts”. Turnout was 58%.

That didn’t stop those directly affected from fulminating against local officials amid furious allegations of generational score-settling.

“The town hall didn’t want the resort to survive. They can’t say it like that, but that’s how I see it,” said Sandie Bony, 38, whose grandparents bought the Le Chalet bar-restaurant that she and her husband now run next to the ski lift. She said the town hall had councillors with interests in the valley’s other two resorts and theirs was being sacrificed.

“There has indeed been a drop in visitor numbers and a lack of snow. We can’t go against that. But what have they done since the mayor took over four years ago to save it?”

Her mother Karine, 65, said she felt authorities were dumping smaller ski resorts to preserve the bigger ones.

“They’re making the same mistake as when they closed small grocery stores and focused only on supermarkets. I think it’s a fundamental error because we are the affordable first step into family skiing and the mountains. We’re the fuse. More will follow.”

Australian and New Zealand ski fields are facing similar issues, with the future of Whakapapa ski field remaining unclear. Photo / Mt Ruapehu

But many locals saw the winter resort’s demise as inevitable.

“Seyne’s old-timers regret the closure. But a ski resort that costs the municipality hundreds of thousands of euros a year doesn’t make sense,” said pensioner Claude Rolland, 83, outside the La Serena cafe in the village. “It would have cost 34% more in taxes per year to keep the resort afloat. For residents, that would have been hard to bear.”

Patricia Rougon, 62, a former ski instructor and farmer whose 100 Angus cattle graze on Grand Puy’s heights, said: “Even back in the 80s, there was little snow. We’d look for patches to teach the kids. Since then, it’s got worse: it snows, but then maybe three or four days later it rains.”

She blasted Francis Hermitte, the former mayor, for pumping €2 million ($3.6m) into a new chair lift in 2016 that went from two to four seats when there was no evident clientele, among other grand plans. “The sun king got what he wanted and now they’re having to deal with the fallout.”

Hermitte claimed the referendum was held on false pretences, based on “totally biassed and falsified” information.

His successor, Pascal, 38, denied foul play and told The Telegraph he was considering suing for slander.

“I’m happy, if not proud, to have held a referendum” given the delicate nature of the decision, he said. “I hope other resorts follow suit.”

He called the referendum in the wake of an independent study that came up with six scenarios, including keeping the resort as it is. His team added a seventh. In the end, the council opted to shut the lift and fund alternative activities such as e-mountain biking, lake fishing and a trail piste. Locals would also have their say.

“We could have spent more time preparing a diversification plan, but were constrained by mounting costs,” Pascal argued.

“Let’s stop criticising a choice that’s been legitimately made by the people, now we have to diversify.”

The town hall hopes to recoup €600,000 ($1.1m) from the sale of the lifts, snow guns and groomers, which will still leave a debt of up to €1.5 million ($2.7m).

“The equipment is still new and can be recycled as few resorts are on the resale market yet. So all the planets were aligned to make this decision now,” said Pascal.

The resort’s economic problems were “naturally linked to global warming and the quality of snow” but also “changing consumer habits” where people ski for shorter durations and seek alternatives, he added.

That was cold comfort for Michel Rougon, 65, who runs Loup Sport, the only remaining ski hire shop in Grand Puy with his wife Annie Joubert Rougon, 63. The other ski shop folded last year.

“Now that the lift is closing, so are we. I’ve got 600 pairs of skis to sell,” he lamented, conceding that business had been waning for years and that he had dissuaded his daughter from taking it over.

Tears then welled up in his wife’s eyes. “When my parents bought this place in the 1960s, it was just a tiny wooden shack. They built a ski hire shop, then a restaurant and a flat above where we would live in winter.

“After all our family has put in, it’s hard not to take this as a financial and sentimental failure.”