I went to the French ski resort that’s one of the world’s largest

AS someone with a fear of heights, dangling by a thin rope from a cable several hundred metres above a deep mountain valley is not on my bucket list. 

But here I am, suspended 2,000ft up with nothing between me and the valley below (a situation that could soon change as I feel the pastries I had for breakfast make their way back up). 

I have reluctantly agreed to take part in the so-called Aerolive experience, which is essentially a gondola without walls. 

“Aerolive invites you to slow down, take a deep breath and appreciate the sheer scale and beauty of the mountains,” teases the bumpf. 

Heavenly stuff, but no one has told my pulse, which is going like the clappers as I gingerly step nearer the edge. 

I watch in awe as my fellow daredevils lean out into the abyss and decide on a half in/half out strategy, which would typically be described as “chicken”.  

Because yes, Aerolive is exhilarating and yes, the view is magical but my God it is also bloody ­terrifying. 

This mountain masochism is the latest thing to do in La Plagne — a French ski resort which has spent millions installing the superfast gondola from which I now teeter, to whisk visitors up to the top of its 3,080m-high Roche De Mio mountain. 

Of course, you don’t have to — literally — put your life on the line to get up here. Normal, sealed cabins are available.  

And while Roche De Mio is most definitely the highest, it is just one of numerous peaks in this vast Alpine resort, with its 77 lifts, 143 pistes and 225km of skiing.  

That nearly doubles when you add the runs and lifts in neighbouring resort Les Arcs, which offer a combined 425km of pistes — the third largest ski area in the world. 

You could spend a week here and not cover half the terrain, even if you bomb down a few slopes after hours on a sledge, which local ski firm Oxygene offers for around 40 euros. 

I gave their so-called Superluge Derby a go and wow, it’s probably the fastest — and most out of control — you can go on these mountains. 

Helpfully La Plagne is HIGH, with 70 per cent of runs above the treeline between 2,000m and 3,000m, which is perfect for a late break (I went in late March and conditions were ideal). 

From the top of the highest runs, the views across the bowls are spectacular and there are plenty of big, wide runs. 

And when your legs get tired, you are spoilt for choice for places to stop, from cosy chalet-style joints serving all the Savoie usuals — such as tartiflette and fondue — to more modest snack bars pumping out croque monsieurs. 

So you don’t blow a hundred euros every lunchtime, I’d suggest nipping over to Plagne Bellecote, where cheaper snack bars abound but the view is still cracking. 

If you do fancy spending a few bob and you can’t visit the mountains without a blast of electronic dance music, there is a Folie Douce-style bar on the way down to Plagne Village called La Bergerie. 

It’s a straight rip-off of the Val d’Isere original Folie Douce and features DJs, half-naked dancers and, of course, some dude on a saxophone. 

Getting a big round in here is only for the brave, though. I bought three pints and am still paying off the credit card bill.  

But it’s a good laugh for a quick stop and hey, you’re on holiday. 

I stayed just down the hill from Bellcote in a Ski Beat chalet in one of La Plagne’s smaller satellite villages, Plagne 1800. 

It’s a charming little place with a few bars and restaurants but most importantly, it’s about a five minute ­totter from the lifts. 

This is my second year on a Ski Beat package and again the service was first class and the food top quality. 

While Plagne 1800 is a sleepy hamlet, there is enough to keep you entertained if you’re not quite ready to turn in at 9pm. 

I spent a few nights in the rowdy La Mine Bar, themed on a “traditional English pub” and it has made a pretty good fist of it. 

You can watch Premier League matches here and neck a few proper pints but, with its wooden beams and Gore-Tex-clad clientele, you still feel like you’re in the Alps.

Musical acts take to the stage most nights and, depending on how smashed you are when you ask them, they’ll play requests. 

The only, er, downside is you have to walk back up the hill when you’ve reached capacity. 

Where’s that windowless lift when you need it, eh?