The chairlifts at Tetnuldi serve what must be the most remote ski resort in Europe. A pedant might take issue with the assertion we are even in Europe – the Greater Caucasus Mountains are generally considered to be at the geographic intersection of the continent and Asia – but there’s no doubt that Tetnuldi, in Georgia, is “out there”. We arrive after a nine-hour drive along increasingly potholed roads from the cosmopolitan capital city of Tbilisi. The journey has taken us up the deep Enguri Gorge, dammed during the Soviet era, through thick forests that are home to brown bears, wolves and lynx, and beneath rugged mountain peaks higher than anything found in the Alps to our base, the historic “townlet” of Mestia. Had the weather been kinder, we could have flown in by light aircraft from Tbilisi. Mestia is known for its many Svan towers, sturdy rectangular defensive structures rising several storeys and dating back to the 12th and 13th centuries. Few of the stone towers remain in use but, together with the town’s thick-walled buildings and cobbled streets, they bestow a medieval feel upon Mestia. Small, lively bars and restaurants serve traditional Georgian dishes such as khachapuri (a kind of pizza) and khinkali (meat dumplings eaten by hand) along with excellent wines, as might be expected from the country that was the birthplace of viticulture. The next morning sees us “enjoying” another drive; 30 minutes along a snowbound dirt track accessible only by a 4WD vehicle to reach the ski resort, which lies in the shadow of 4,858 metre Mount Tetnuldi. It’s no surprise to find that the four chairlifts and the slopes they serve are hardly being used. But given a recent fall of fresh powder and almost 1,000 vertical metres of terrain to slide down, Tetnuldi is shaping up to be a very exciting prospect. The resort has been operating since 2014 and has yet to make much of a mark on the international ski scene. Visitors tend to be locals or city dwellers from Tblisi; the few international skiers coming from neighbouring Russia and Europe. We meet some of them over a lunch of filling lobio (bean soup) and fire-roasted chunks of pork on skewers in a sparsely decorated but light and airy restaurant at the base of the resort. Quick “ Gamarjobas ” – “Hellos” in Georgian – are invariably followed by the question: “Where are you from?” Tetnuldi is renowned for its challenging off-piste terrain – steep slopes caked in deep powder that hides crags and drop-offs – and so is best explored with a guide. All are easily accessed from the lifts, though, and the slopes between the easy pistes also offer fine powder skiing. One of the chairlifts rises to 3,160 metres. Adding to the enjoyment of the magnificent panoramas seen from here is the fact that the slopes, which descend into wooded glades, are largely devoid of other people. That is certainly not the case a few days later, when we find ourselves in Gudauri, Georgia’s biggest and most-established ski resort. First we drive to Tbilisi, spending a day exploring a city that is a compelling blend of European and Asian influences; the Persian-inspired architecture of the Orbeliani Bath House – with colourful tile mosaics and elegant arches – contrasting with the Soviet Ministry of Transportation building’s sharp angles and blocky, horizontal planes. From Tbilisi, a two-hour drive takes us along the Georgian Military Road, which crosses the Jvari Pass into Russia at 2,379 metres. Its strategic importance has seen the route used by travellers, traders and invaders, from Pliny the Elder to the troops of Imperial Russia and the Soviet Union. Today the road grumbles to the sound of truck convoys carrying goods between Central Asia and Europe. We stop 50km before the Russian border, at Gudauri, a bustling little ski hill that holds its own against any of the smaller ski resorts in the European Alps, with a selection of modern gondolas and chairlifts, and almost 60km of pistes, not to mention six marked freeride areas. Unlike Tetnuldi, which attracts those looking for an alpine adventure, Gudauri has the happy-go-lucky feel of a resort where the skiing isn’t quite so serious, although it has plenty of steep and challenging slopes for those so inclined. Sitting beneath 3,276 metre Mount Sadzele West, and with ridge after ridge of high mountains fading away to the north, Gudauri possesses an array of intermediate pistes that are wide, open and invite the skier to blast down at full pelt. The security guards at the bottom of some lifts tote machine-guns but are friendly, smiling at us as we return to complete lap after lap, eventually whizzing down into Gondola Square, in “New Gudauri”. A recent addition connected to the rest of the resort by road and ski lift, New Gudauri consists of hotels, cafes, bars, shops and ski-hire outlets. Its 26 buildings were erected as part of a master plan developed by Canadian company Ecosign Mountain Resort Planners, and as such this area has a North American feel to it. Enjoying a coffee at the Drunk Cherry bar we could have been in the Rocky Mountains, as hip hop fills the air and bearded hipsters in the latest ski fashions slouch with self-conscious cool against the most convenient wall. Busier than Tetnuldi it may be, but heading off-piste as the early spring sunshine begins to soften the snow, we again find ourselves almost alone, with great slopes falling away ahead of us. And the icing on the cake is that the skiing here costs a fraction of that in the Alps; a lift pass being € 15 (HK$130) per day as opposed to € 50. Wheeeeeeeee …