Why did we go to Dubai?

The A Skier’s Journey series hasn’t necessarily been about promoting each location, though we’ve fallen in love with a few of the locations along the way. It has been a survey of the global landscape of skiing as it exists, in it’s many forms. 

The world of skiing is filled with not only extremes but contradictions. The not-so-great ecological story of Dubai is well known & documented. At the same time and in spite of this, in the midst of this, there seemed to be a real skiing community here. This contradiction, the fact that both of these things might be true made us uncomfortable. Can something be real and good, even if it is predicated on so much that is not?

It was fascinating to meet someone who had never skied outdoors, who’s entire ski experience was produced by an impressively engineered and incredibly energy intensive facility. And that, at the end of the day, it harnessed just enough gravity, made just enough snow, to maybe just look like, and maybe just feel like skiing. As someone who’s idea of skiing is so closely related to the idea of being outside in the mountains, I found it fascinating to meet someone that shared a passion for skiing, yet had so many of the elements that I cherish stripped away from it. In some ways, what we found was modest, raw skiing.

Ultimately this episode was made to explore a different kind of skiing, and hopefully it would lead to the question, “what is skiing?” Why do we love it? What are the elements (community? the physical motion of it? your environment?) that make it special and real to each of us?

Dubai lies at the extreme edge of what might be considered a ski location and/or culture. Probing at the margins of skiing, where the elements of modern downhill skiing become stripped away, we felt was the best place to ask these questions.

Jordan Manley & Daniel Irvine (directors)

Huge thanks to Daniel Irvine who co-wrote/directed the piece with me.

Dubai: A Skier’s Journey EP2 [S3] from Jordan Manley Photography on Vimeo.

“5:30am, Dubai, United Arab Emirates – Sweat is beginning to collect anywhere it can at this point. 20 seconds ago I was nearly cold. I’m doing my best to keep up behind Paulino, a short, 30-something technician from the Phillipines. He’s climbing a sketchy ladder up the nether regions of Dubai’s fantastical indoor ski hill, Ski Dubai.

He tells me he wants to come to Canada to work at a ski resort, but for now, it’s easier for him to find work here. He’s giving me a tour of the facility, and we are making our way up through it’s bizarre envelope – a dense, mechanical space that divides the 40C degree desert heat from the sub-zero snow slope inside.

While much of Dubai sleeps, we’ve been dancing back and forth between doors that divide outside, inside, and the mysterious, interstitial world between them. Each transition is marked by extreme gradients of temperature and moisture. The sweat pours. I ask myself what the hell I’m doing here. Paulino climbs another ladder towards the envelope’s ceiling and opens a trap door. Arabian sunlight pours in and drowns the dim incandescence. I squint as I reach the top of the ladder and emerge on the roof at sunrise.

Paulino cracks a smile, he’s never taken media here before he tells me. It’s 30-something degrees. Later today it will reach nearly 40. Light filters through a humid haze and so does the answer I’ve been looking for – I’m here to witness the contrast. Contrast in temperature, moisture, culture, and ideas. That skiing exists in this desert climate is surreal. That the facility is part of a shopping mall is an affront to any backcountry skier’s sensibilities. That a charming and dedicated ski community is growing out of the sand, the unlikeliest of landscapes, suggests that something here, however, is real.”

Here is the first instalment of A Skier’s Journey – from Japan. Hope you enjoy!

Japan: A Skier’s Journey EP1 S3 from Jordan Manley Photography on Vimeo.

Full episodes launching October 29. Thanks for tuning in!

A Skier’s Journey: Season 3 Trailer from Jordan Manley Photography on Vimeo.

5:30am, Dubai, United Arab Emirates – Sweat is beginning to collect anywhere it can at this point. 20 seconds ago I was nearly cold. I’m doing my best to keep up behind Paulino, a short, 30-something technician from the Phillipines. He’s climbing a sketchy ladder up the nether regions of Dubai’s fantastical indoor ski hill, Ski Dubai. En route to the roof, he tells me he wants to come to Canada to work at a ski resort, but for now, it’s easier for him to find work here. He’s giving me a tour of the facility, making our way through it’s bizarre envelope – an odd space that divides the 40C degree desert heat from the sub-zero snow slope inside. While much of Dubai sleeps, we’ve been dancing back and forth between doors that divide outside, inside, and the mysterious world of in-between. Each transition is marked by extreme gradients of temperature and moisture. The sweat pours. I ask myself what the hell I’m doing here. Paulino climbs another ladder towards the envelope’s ceiling and opens a trap door. Arabian sunlight pours in and drowns the dim incandescence. I squint as I reach the top of the ladder and emerge on the roof at sunrise. Paulino cracks a smile, he’s never taken media here before he tells me. It’s 30 something degrees. Later today it will reach nearly 40. Light filters through a humid haze and so does the answer I’ve been looking for – I’m here to witness the contrast. Contrast in temperature, moisture, culture, and ideas. That skiing exists in this desert climate is fantastical. That the facility is part of the shopping mall is an affront to any backcountry skier’s sensibilities. That a charming ski community is growing out of the sand, the unlikeliest of ecologies, is nothing less than intriguing.

Dubai – A Skier’s Journey will appear online in fall 2012.

Heydalur hot springs, Iceland – In the 11th century Iceland’s bishop blessed the geothermal water I’m sitting in. The hot pool is no more than a pock mark set into the hillside, in between a ribbon of snow reaching down from the ridge top, and the river that courses through the valley bottom to the fjord below. Tussocks of grass hide the rocks that form the pool’s edge. If it weren’t for the old tin shed standing adjacent,  the pool would easily escape view.

It’s a fitting end to our trip in Iceland’s Westfjords, one that has been constantly mediated by the remarkable human history resiliently bore in the landscape every corner we’ve rounded. And welcome material for the ‘A Skier’s Journey’ episode I’m here working on with Chad Sayers, Forrest Coots, and my brother Chad. By sailboat, kayak, and skis, we’ve ventured for 10 days through both fjord and icecap, soaking up the landscape and it’s storied past.

With a kind of gentle and stoic pride, our guides Runar and Siggi have shared not only the landscape they call home, but stories of their ancestors who survived almost a millennia along these shores. Their business, Borea Adventures, isn’t a typical one here. Towards the mid 1900′s, after nearly 1000 years of scraping a life from the fjords’ shores, the people left. Amongst some of those who moved to villages and never returned, the fjords were perhaps places to be survived more than enjoyed. Perhaps, because of that life, they can’t, or couldn’t, see the beauty the way Siggi and Runar do.

With their 60ft yacht “Aurora” and a fleet of kayaks, the two Icelander’s are carving out a new kind of economy in the furrowed fjords. They have a unique opportunity to not only visit but be a part of the landscape, respecting it’s past and it’s future. Few places in the world can you ski from the shore with such ease. The sailboat and kayaks form a mobile base camp. You point, and go. Seaweed under your ski boots and a myriad arrangement of steep couloirs and more gentle slopes quickly become the norm. Seals, whales, sea birds and foxes become your ski partners. And as we trace the shores and ascend their slopes, the spirits of lives lived here long ago keep our imaginations alive.

Iceland – A Skier’s Journey episode coming fall 2012.

Prizren, Kosovo – The 400 year old ornate ceiling of Sinan Pasha mosque soars above our heads. We ask the imam, a man in his late 40′s, if we can climb it’s stone minaret. It’s a long shot. He agrees. It’s the imam’s first time going up, too, he admits. This kind of gracious hospitality has been the norm in Kosovo. He unlocks the small wooden door and we step into the dark. It’s black as night, and barely shoulder width wide. We probe and spiral our way up the steep steps. It takes concentration. A thick coating of dust and pigeon crap makes the footing unsure. Every few minutes spiraling tunnel comes to life as we pass a small window. Five, maybe 10 minutes go by. We emerge into the daylight at the top of the tower. Prizren bustles below us, and fades to the west. I briefly look up to the Shar mountains behind us. They haven’t been as kind as we hoped. In this moment, it doesn’t matter.

Tokyo: I’ll miss the feeling of ambiguity & simultaneous intimacy, crammed in your tiny bars getting to know their 8 occupants, surrounded by 30 million people; your weird and wacky Capsule hotels.

Niseko & Black Diamond lodge: I’ll miss your calm and cold nights on the chairlift, and deep days in the forests, winds blowing up high.

Tokachidake: I’ll miss your Onsens, gifts from the boiling mountain! And you too, Mr. Hokkaido Fox.

As seen in forthcoming Japan: A Skier’s Journey Ep1 [Season 3] and Powder magazine feature article on Tokachidake, coming 2012/13 ski season.

Take a step through a magical world…