New Resort Wants Skiers to Have Their Cake and Eat It Too
One of the first things I noticed when entering the lobby of Airelles Val-d'Isère was a wooden table covered with a spread of pastries and cakes, including a brioche scattered with pink pralines that were so bright they bordered on fluorescent—a regional specialty, apparently.
A young man sporting a medieval-style Savoyard hunting outfit approached and asked me if I wanted to indulge, but I was distracted by the flames flickering in the tall stone hearth to the left of the table, as well as by the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lining the walls. Several seconds later, a woman clad in a getup that evoked a 16th-century milkmaid emerged from behind one of the shelves, which was actually a hidden service door complete with imitation leather spines.
Myriad sweet treats and an offbeat, through-the-looking-glass vibe with a Middle Ages twist are abundant at the hotel, which is the latest selection for our column on exciting new hotels, Room Key. The most recent addition to the Airelles luxury chain, (Airelles also has properties in Versailles, St. Tropez, and Gordes), the hotel finally opened last winter after the COVID pandemic derailed its earlier launch in December of 2019.
The site of numerous professional skiing events, Val-d'Isère’s high altitude and 93 miles of ski runs has made it an international alpine hotspot on a par with Chamonix and Courchevel. However, while ultra-luxe lodging and private jet charters abound in the latter, Val d’Isère is less showy. Superior ski conditions are prized over flashiness and low-key luxury trumps overt bling.
Indeed, the hotel sits at the base of the slopes near the Solaise and Bellevarde gondolas, where the homey, 1950s-era Le Brussels once stood. Le Brussels shut its doors and was demolished several years ago, and the arrival of Airelles Val-d'Isère has taken the concept of the ski-in, ski-out resort to new heights via a mélange of cozy alpine luxury, sumptuous details, and myriad comforts that take much of the hassle out of a standard ski vacation.
Christophe Tollemer, who has worked on other Airelles properties, is the architect behind the hotel’s offbeat Medieval-chic-meets-mountain-chalet look, and the result is quirky, imaginative décor that includes Vermeer reproductions, leather-bound volumes, and a hefty collection of centuries-old antiques. Even the subterranean pool is set beneath exposed wooden beams that are supported by Romanesque-style arches, and the resort’s outpost of the famed Paris eatery Loulou is festooned with vines of enchanted forest-like foliage.
Many of the 41 rooms and suites have terraces that look out onto slopes and offer postcard-worthy views of the surrounding peaks. There are also five top-floor penthouse apartments with extra perks like a private butler and working fireplaces. Heavy mahogany pieces and limestone walls keep the Haute Epoch ambiance alive, but in-room comforts like heated floors, Japanese toilets, and hammam-style steam showers infuse the spaces with ample doses of contemporary luxury.
Junior Suite.
It’s the thoughtful details, though, that made my stay stand out, including the wooden box of miniature pillows filled with different levels of buckwheat hull stuffing that ranged from almost overstuffed to mildly deflated. You select your preferred firmness, leave the tiny pillow on the bed, and a full-size version will be waiting for you in the evening.
I was also provided with a WhatsApp number that functioned as a modern-day concierge service. Curious to try it, I sent a text inquiring about my itinerary that was supposed to have been given to me when I checked in. Less than five minutes later, I received a response, and less than five minutes after that the itinerary was hand-delivered to my suite.
Also impressive was the sizable display of fruit, chocolates, pastries, and cake—lemon this time—waiting for me on the living room coffee table. Wrapped in a wafer-thin layer of milk chocolate, the cake was large enough to give five people a good sugar buzz, and there was no way I could eat it all regardless of how famished I can be after a day on the slopes.
Speaking of food, Airelles Val d’Isere has three new dining experiences on the menu this year, including a much-hyped Nobu Matsuhisa outpost—the first in the French Alps—serving up signature Japanese-Peruvian dishes and craft cocktails with ingredients like wasabi and lychee amid wood-paneled walls and plush velvet furnishings. The sushi was decent, but I was more impressed by the steak frites at the slopeside Le Relais. I’m not a big fan of the French staple, but the tender cuts of meat paired with their signature mustard-based “special sauce” won me over and I would have returned the next day if I didn’t have a train to catch.
The eatery’s outdoor terrace is a draw during daylight hours, and the lounge-like interior with high ceilings and red velvet banquets is the focus during evening hours, when the space morphs into a nightspot filled with cocktails, candlelight, and après-ski revelers.
I was eager to sample some of the hotel’s add-on experiences, which include one-on-one ski lessons with a professional skier, dog sled rides, and snow-shoe treks. A harrowing fall a few years back transformed me into a somewhat timid skier, but I headed to the hotel’s salon du ski anyway to pick up my gear. Two things stood out: my ski boots were warm and toasty (yes!) and amid the goggles, helmets, and other accouterments, there was yet another spread of pastries and cakes (what? again?).
For my morning on the slopes, I was paired up with Victor, who has been on skis pretty much since he was born and has led members of the British military on backcountry treks. I imagine coaching an apprehensive skier with mild PTSD is probably boring as hell, but Victor was patient and friendly and didn’t seem to mind when I started calling him Le Grand Sportif. Better still, by the end of the morning, I was even able to pick up a bit of speed without leaning backwards or having an anxiety attack.
Next is a snowshoe trek, also led by Victor, that I naively imagined would entail a relaxing walk through the woods on a level path. Le Grand Sportif had other plans, however, and I was slightly horrified when he began leading us straight up a mountain. Although the surrounding views of snow-capped peaks and rugged outcroppings were glorious, I only made it three-quarters of the way up before exhaustion took over and I (literally) collapsed.
My day in the snow officially over, I hobbled over to the hotel’s Guerlain spa for a deep-tissue massage. Strains of Spanish guitar music and the scent of amber-scented oil lulled me into a fragrant trance, while the massage did amazing things for my aching muscles. Amazing, as in I was able to walk the next day sans soreness.
Next, it was dinner next door at the circa-1936 La Grande Ours, which was acquired by the hotel and serves classic Savoyarde cuisine like tartiflette and Reblochon-stuffed beignets. A glass of local red called Hors Piste paired well with the tartiflette, which is a bit like a superior incarnation of potato gratin. The wood-paneled interior was decorated with vintage ski gear and a minstrel-like trio of men were serenading diners with eclectic tunes ranging from “Hotel California,” to “Champs-Élysées.”
I wrapped up the evening with a chamomile tea in the crimson-walled Red Room bar before heading back to my suite for a final decadent slice of chocolate-covered lemon cake.
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