59tracedtothearea,andsome4,500peoplehaveindicatedthey
mightjoinlawsuitsallegingthattheAustriangovernment—
reluctanttosacrificethefinalmonthsoftheseason—allowed
theresorttokeepliftsopenforatleasta weekafterit became
clearthecoronavirus was spreading fast. (The government
declined to comment on the lawsuits.) A study by the Medical
University of Innsbruck found that 42% of Ischgl’s 1,500 per-
manent residents had been infected by April.
The virus slammed many ski towns, not just Ischgl. The
Swiss resort of Verbier and France’s Les Contamines both
seeded wide outbreaks, and in Colorado, Aspen and Vail were
early hot spots. That shaky track record has forced ski areas
worldwide to reassess operations for the weirdest season ever.
Ensuring the safety of the downhill part of the sport—at
least in terms of coronavirus—is easy: It’s outside, and skis
provide a natural social distance buffer. More troublesome
will be getting skiers back uphill, feeding them on the moun-
tain, and keeping them entertained when the sun sets. The
specifics are a work in progress. “This season there’s no clear
plan for when tests are positive,” says Peter Kolba, a Vienna
attorney leading the lawsuits. “Some hotels seem to be say-
ing, ‘Maybe I don’t want to know.’ If that’s the attitude, then
I have to say we didn’t learn anything.”
Riding the gondola from his office in town to Vider Alp, a
popular Austrian restaurant halfway up the mountain, Günther
Zangerl is stressed. The managing director of Ischgl’s lift com-
pany, Silvrettaseilbahn AG, is doing his best to virus-proof the
area, which on an average day attracts 13,000 skiers and on
a busy one can top 20,000. Over the summer, the resort had
about three-quarters as many visitors as it does in a normal
year. It would be a “great success” to reach that level during
the busier winter season, says Zangerl, who’s of no known rela-
tion to the bar owner. “You expect to deal with snow, wind,
avalanches,” he says, looking out at the rugged Alpine terrain.
“But there’s never been anything like this.”
Some of Ischgl’s trams can squeeze more than 150 people
into each car. Its gondolas are designed to hold dozens. And
most of the chairlifts ferry six or eight and have bubbles that
can be closed—protecting riders from the elements, but trap-
ping their potentially virus-laden breath.
Rides on the trams and gondolas are shorter than 15 min-
utes, so if the cabin windows remain open, Zangerl says,
there’s enough air circulation to take skiers up the mountain
without infection. Although nearby St. Anton and Germany’s
Zugspitze cut cable-car capacity to about two-thirds the max-
imum over the summer, Zangerl says he doesn’t plan to do so
unless the government orders it. “If you limit the number of
people on the gondolas,” he says, “people will spend more
time packed close together in queues at the bottom.” Austria
classifies ski lifts, gondolas, and trams as public transporta-
tion, so passengers will be required to wear masks and main-
tain a 1-meter distance from one another, but the government
hasn’t yet issued any specific capacity restraints or instruc-
tions on how exactly social distancing might be enforced.
Restaurants are especially problematic. They have
wide-open terraces for sun-drenched days, but inclement
weather makes their wood-paneled interiors grow as steamy
as saunas. Capacity in dining rooms will be cut, with extra
space or barriers between tables. Employees in public-facing
jobs must wear masks, and Silvretta plans to liberally douse
everyone and everything in disinfectant. Hand sanitizer will be
available at entrances to restaurants and lifts, and the gondola
and tram cabins will be frequently sprayed with a virus-killing
mist. Lift tickets will include a faux silk neck gaiter—with an
Ischgllogo,ofcourse—thatcanbepulledoverthemouthand
nose.TheIschglappthatmanyvisitorsloadontheirphoneto
trackwherethey’veskiedwillhaveacontact-tracing feature
that alerts users if they’ve been in close proximity with peo-
plewholatertestpositive.
Thetownis planningitsownmeasuressuchasfrequent
testingofworkersathotels,restaurants,andthelift-operating
company. Guests will be offered Covid tests with results over-
night; these were doled out for free over the summer, but they
may cost something during ski season when visitors multiply
tenfold. And Ischgl says it will monitor sewage—yes, the virus
shows up there—to identify outbreaks before they spread.
It remains uncertain what will happen in the event of a sus-
tained outbreak such as the one that shut down the resort in
March. So far, Ischgl hasn’t announced detailed plans to deal
with another lockdown and simply seems to be counting on
an outbreak-free season. “With the precautions we’re taking,
I don’t think we’ll get into that situation again,” says Andreas
Steibl, managing director of the local tourism board.
Given the role nightlife played in last season’s difficulties,
that’s where the most visible changes will take place. Three
times per year, the area stages outdoor shows by the likes
of Bob Dylan, Elton John, and Alicia Keys, where thousands
of Bogner- and Moncler-clad fans cram together to sip Moët
and rock out. This year the event scheduled for opening day—
Nov. 26—has been called off, and a pair of springtime concerts
on a vast stage in a gentle bowl at the mountain’s midstation
may not happen either.
Après-ski is likely to be less raucous thanks to capacity
limits and a 10 p.m. curfew for bars, which proprietors are
hoping the town will extend to 1 a.m. On a typical winter eve-
ning, the Kuhstall teems with as many as 800 people, but this
year that will be capped at a little more than 100, as guests
will have to find a seat to be served. Across the street at Fire
& Ice, a DJ normally pumps tunes into the night and guests
spin around a pole on the dance floor. This year the music
will be turned down, tables will fill the parquet, and a new
menu will focus more on tapas than tequila, says co-owner
Anna Kurz, 29, whose family has run the nearby Goldener
Adlerhotelforfivegenerations.
Kurzaddsthatitwillbetoughtocomplywithsafety
measures—and make sure guests follow the rules—without
coming off as an enforcer. But she’s determined to make
things as fun as possible given the circumstances. “We’re sup-
posed to say no all the time,” she says with a sigh. “But our
business is to let people have a good time.” <BW>SKI SPECIAL Bloomberg Pursuits October 12, 2020