SNOWS OF YESTERYEAR
Rachel Johnson returns to Megève for a romantic reunion with an auberge that first stole her heart 30 years ago
As life goes on – when it comes to travel, anyway – you arrive at a fork in the road. Do you continue to explore the world with your gaze on distant horizons like a backpacking student, or, after a certain point, do you return, like a salmon to its spawning grounds, to primal places that have a special meaning? When the invitation landed to celebrate the 30th anniversary of Les Fermes de Marie in Megève, even my stone-cold heart skipped a beat. This was the snug five-star hotel in the snowy, fir-clad French Alps where I had courted my husband-to-be on our first holiday almost 30 years ago. Back then, we landed in Geneva with a gang of his closest friends, including the
Birdsong writer Sebastian Faulks and the Newsnight presenter at the time Jeremy Paxman, to discover that British Airways had lost my luggage (a beloved Globe-Trotter suitcase) and I had only the office clothes I stood up in to see me through the week.
I remember wandering through the town’s cobbled streets, lined with a host of designer ski-wear shops, and buying a pair of black stirrup-pants from the Aallard boutique that I still have today, proving you get quality when you pay through the nose. On the other hand, I couldn’t find a three-pack of white cotton bikini briefs anywhere, so I had to borrow spare knickers from my female fellow travellers. Still, the hotel, a large chalet with blazing log fires and wraparound wood inside and outside, was the epitome of romantic charm; everything you want in a mountain retreat. As a glamorous weekend hideout for the rich and famous, Megève is known as the 21st arrondissement of Paris, having long been the Alpine playground of presidents, stars and playboys, from Jacques Chirac to Audrey
Hepburn via Sacha Distel and Charles Aznavour.
When I returned with my husband at the start of this new decade for what I was thinking of as our 30th anniversary, I found that, thanks to its owners, the legendary Sibuet family, Les Fermes de Marie has only improved with time – but luckily not beyond recognition. It remains rugged, cosy, luxurious and, above all, gourmet.
Indeed, the few days I spent courtesy of the Sibuets’s empire of top establishments in Megève were an unforgettable gastronomic odyssey. Each morning, an extraordinary smorgasbord of patisseries and breads would appear as if by magic, while at the hoteliers’ newest offering, La Ferme de Bacré, a restored hillside barn accessible via a walk through the snow, we sampled fondue made with three local cheeses, served alongside glasses of Apremont de Savoie, a dry white wine. The family also own the Mont-Blanc hotel in the heart of the village, where we ate oysters followed by lobster in cream served in the shell at Les Enfants Terribles, a historic restaurant behind whose bar is a decorative mural by Jean Cocteau. Equally memorable were the roast meats served at the Lodge Park hotel’s Beef Lodge, a hotbed of carnivorous cuisine that is designed to look like a Canadian trappers’ cabin.
Of course, you go to Megève to ski (the resort has 445 kilometres of pistes, two cable-cars, seven gondolas, 27 chair lifts and 39 draglifts), but the tables provide a competing attraction to the slopes. One morning, after 30 centimetres of fresh snow had fallen, we skied on velvety-soft powder, stopping only for hot chocolate, a mug of vin chaud or a girdle-busting tartiflette at the ski instructors’ favourite dive, Le Radaz. Later, we watched people dancing in ski boots on tables at the Folie Douce, shaking our heads at their youth and stamina, and then headed home to the spa for treatments before settling in for dinner. Apart from the famous Savoyard damage to the waistline and the wallet, it’s the best way of spending the dark winter days that I can possibly imagine.
After 30 years, coming back to Les Fermes de Marie, I realised that while you can return to a cherished spot, you never find yourself on the same piste twice. It is what makes travel so endlessly magical and refreshing.
Les Fermes de Marie (www.fermesdemarie.com), from about £305 a room a night B&B, including a day trip to La Ferme de Bacré.