Megeve –
A skiing holiday isn’t always about the slopes – at least, not for everyonee. If that sounds enticing, then pretty Megeve in the French Alps is for you.
It’s dotted with wooden chalets and has its own Alpine village scene going on: bars serving jazz with hot wine, interior design shops with rustic furniture and shaggy throws, a giant Christmas tree in the main square which stays up all season, horse-and-carriage rides, Michelin-starred restaurants, wonderfully cossetting hotels and aristocratic heritage.
How Megeve looks now is partly down to Baroness Maurice de Rothschild, or Baroness Mimi, as she was known.
In the Twenties, the Baroness – determined to create a glamorous resort which would rival St Moritz – alighted upon the Savoyard farming village beneath Mont Blanc.
She and a young architect, Henry Jacques Le Meme, built the first ski chalet – Le Meme, now a hotel – then 200 further chalets. Early ski-lifts, a golf course and airport followed.
After World War II, so did the smart set, the author and artist Jean Cocteau and Brigitte Bardot among them.So popular and prestigious was the resort, Cocteau referred to it as the “21st arrondissement of Paris”.
Cocteau’s favourite spot was the hotel Mont Blanc, now owned by hotel firm Sibuet. Here, in the art deco restaurant with its Cocteau mural, you can slip into a more sultry era.
Megeve has plenty to recommend it. First, it’s just over an hour’s drive to Geneva Airport, so you can pop over for the weekend, as the fur-clad couples from Manchester tell me they do all winter long.
Second, it’s beautifully placed beneath Mont Blanc and offers 201 miles of pistes, which are ideal for intermediate skiers such as me. The views are sensational, the runs are wide and there are plenty of my favourite types of slope – the wooded blues – and lots of lunch opportunities.
At 1895 m, L’Alpette is a lofty spot to warm up over a plate of macaroni cheese with truffles. There’s a fromagerie and dessert buffet. Light lunching this is not. But that “bon voyage” glass of Eau de Vie will fire you through an afternoon’s skiing.
Truffles are a theme. I eat them – on pasta, pizza, in mashed potato, scrambled egg, on nuts – by the truck load. Those French women who don’t get fat must be skiing hard.
Megeve is known as the home of French skiing. There aren’t many Britons and it’s very chic. Blu and Berry, in the village, offers designer labels such as Isabel Marant and Celine. And fur is standard on and off the slopes.
But you don’t need extra layers in my hotel, Le Lodge Park, where the very best spot is in the bar, by the fireside. Swagged with tartan, checks and cowhide chairs, it’s easy to settle down for cocktails served in twinkling copper cups.
The hotel is one of five in Megeve owned by the Sibuet group. It positively shouts kitsch Alpine charm, but is comfortable and fun rather than cheesy.
There’s a spa offering treatments with Sibuet’s own brand, Pure Altitude. And if the glamorous owner, Jocelyne Sibuet is anything to go by, those creams must work.
Or maybe it’s all those truffles and that very crisp mountain air.
Daily Mail