One of the world’s most spectacular ski spots is surprisingly easy

It’s a crisp and sunny August morning at Aoraki/Mount Cook airport, and the scene is relaxed and efficient. The ground crew of one is wrangling helicopters from their hangers, towing them on trolleys with a four-wheel farm bike; the air-traffic controller is adjusting his high-vis vest and chatting in a friendly Irish accent; the pilots are doing their checks; and the mountain guides are handling their check-ins.

I’m here to ski the Tasman Glacier, that river of ice and snow pushing its way down between the soaring peaks of New Zealand’s Southern Alps. Few places offer such a spectacular alpine experience that demands such a modest skill level – on the Tasman, the skiing is mild but the environment is wild.

My guide, Sean Brooks, a lanky, softly spoken mountaineer from nearby Twizel, takes us through the safety checks and use of the avalanche rescue gear, and soon enough, we’re in the helicopter and in the air.

We scoot over the gravel fields, land scrubbed flat by the glaciers, then make our way up the range, massive peaks unfolding nearby – Mount Tasman (3498 metres) comes into view and eventually Aoraki, “the cloud piercer” (3724 metres).

We land at the top of the glacier in an altogether different world. The sun is still shining, but it’s much colder up here, the snow light and fresh on the ground, diamonds of ice crystals floating through the air.

We’re right on the divide, gravity making a grab for the snow and ice on either side. Look west and the glaciers are flowing through the mountains and down to the Tasman Sea; look east, the way we came, and they’re making their way to Mackenzie Country, with its vast lakes and huge stretches of farmland.

Brooks points out what, to my eye, is just a line in the snow in the distance. “It’s a bergschrund,” he explains, “the crack that emerges between the moving ice of the glacier and the stable ice gripping the mountain.” The movement can create crevasses of unknowable depth. It’s good to have a guide in these parts.

Also in the group is Kyle Mulinder, otherwise known as @barekiwi, a photographer and videographer and one of a handful worldwide of official GoPro-anointed “gurus”. It’s a title he cringes at, but given his skill with that tiny video camera, it’s a status he doubtless deserves.