How an alpine paradise became the unexpected epicentre of rave culture

If you’d told me a decade ago that one of the most electric nights of bass-thumping euphoria would happen in a ski resort in Andorra, I’d have laughed you off the barstool. Yet here we are, with L’Abarset establishing itself as the kind of venue that can casually drop “Fatboy Slim played here. Twice” into conversation.

Nestled in El Tarter, this isn’t your typical après-ski joint where sunburnt tourists slosh around overpriced beer while desperately trying to feel their toes. L’Abarset has quietly built a reputation as the Berghain of the Pyrenees — if Berghain served excellent food, welcomed you with open arms, and traded Berlin’s concrete for panoramic mountain views.

The numbers speak for themselves: over 25,000 revellers have already passed through its doors this season alone. That’s a staggering achievement for a venue in a country most people couldn’t accurately place on a map. It’s between France and Spain, in case you’re wondering. No, not that gap — the smaller one.

The night Norman Cook came to town

There’s something delightfully surreal about watching Fatboy Slim – a man who once gathered 250,000 people on Brighton Beach – perform to a few hundred snow enthusiasts from the comfort of a VIP section. Yet here he is, Norman Cook in the flesh, bouncing around barefoot on his personal carpet like he’s in his living room.

Yes, you read that correctly. The man DJs without shoes, on his own carpet that presumably travels with him from gig to gig. Oddly, it’s not some luxurious Persian number you might expect from dance music royalty, but something that wouldn’t look out of place in a primary school reading corner. Perhaps that’s the secret to his endless energy — he’s been bouncing on nursery carpeting for decades.

From my privileged perch in the VIP area, I can see it all unfold. The beauty of L’Abarset’s setup is that while you’re technically separated from the unwashed masses (sorry, “general admission ticket holders”), you can easily venture down into the throng should you wish to experience that authentic sticky-floor, getting-elbowed-in-the-ribs authenticity. I occasionally consider it, watching the heaving crowd below with their collectively raised arms swaying like some ritualistic dance. The sense of community down there is palpable. Heartwarming, really.

I stay put.

Up close, you realise how genuinely into it Cook still is after all these years. He’s leaning over the decks, grinning manically at the crowd, working them like putty in his experienced hands. The classics come thick and fast, though they often transition into slightly more pedestrian fare like “Eat, Sleep, Rave, Repeat” — but honestly, who cares? The crowd is going absolutely berserk, and that’s what matters. Even from my elevated position, I can feel the collective euphoria when he drops “Praise You” as couples grab each other and mime the iconic dance moves from the video.

Fiery décor and lighter droughts

L’Abarset’s commitment to atmospheric danger is commendable. Throughout the venue, caged lanterns with actual open flames create an ambiance that oscillates between “romantic alpine retreat” and “potential insurance claim.” These fiery contraptions hover precariously close to increasingly intoxicated patrons, many of whom seem to have a tenuous grasp on spatial awareness by midnight.

The flames do serve an unexpected practical purpose, however. As the night wears on, a curious phenomenon emerges: the Great Andorran Lighter Drought of 2025. Smokers pat their pockets with increasing desperation, realising that somewhere between the chairlift and the dance floor, their means of ignition has vanished.

In a beautiful display of human ingenuity, I watch as people take turns carefully lighting cigarettes from the open flames, performing a delicate dance to avoid singeing eyebrows or setting synthetic ski wear ablaze. It’s a risky manoeuvre, made all the more impressive by the fact that most participants are several drinks deep and would likely struggle to walk a straight line, let alone perform precision fire-borrowing.

The military operation that is L’Abarset service

While Cook commands the musical troops from 8pm to 10pm (following the equally impressive Patricia Mantovani and Tini Gessler), the staff at L’Abarset run their own parallel military operation. Earpieces in, faces set in determined concentration, they charge through the crowd with the single-minded focus of special forces operators. Their mission? To deliver enough alcohol to make you forget you spent your life savings on a ski holiday.

These alcohol sherpas navigate the packed dance floor carrying bottles of premium vodka topped with sparklers (for those who need everyone to know they’re spending €300 on a bottle), and precarious pyramids of shots that somehow never topple despite the hazardous terrain of flailing limbs.

Even the bathrooms contribute to the sensory overload with their bizarrely furry doors that feel strangely satisfying to touch after a few drinks. It’s like someone watched that scene from Get Him to the Greek and thought, “Yep, we need that.”

The after party transformation

By 10pm, it’s time for the After Party, where the restaurant space undergoes such a dramatic transformation that, aided by several hours of enthusiastic drinking, you’ll question whether you’ve somehow been teleported to another venue entirely. This exclusive interior club with limited capacity has become so popular that the first two dates of the season sold out completely.

If you missed Fatboy Slim (and shame on you if you did), L’Abarset’s lineup for the remainder of the season reads like a who’s who of electronic music. Miss Monique will close out the Brunch Electronik! season on March 14, bringing her genre-bending versatility to the mountains. Pack your ski gear alongside your dancing shoes and head to Andorra. Just don’t forget the paracetamol for the morning after — those pristine slopes won’t ski themselves.