Ridge King
A low-ceilinged timber room with a window seat built into the slope of the roof and a wood stove you can feed yourself.
- 42 m²
- 2 guests
- Valley view
A hand-built retreat suspended at 1,842 metres — eighteen suites, a thermal spa carved into living rock, and a horizon that changes with every hour of light.
Alpine Escape began as a shepherd's refuge on the north ridge. Three decades later it is eighteen suites of oak, raw stone and glass — every one facing the valley, every one with a fireplace that has never once been off in winter.
Deliberately small. No queues, no crowds — just the mountain and the people you brought.
Our ski valet warms your boots overnight and meets you at the lift at first light.
No lobby music, no televisions in the suites. Just weather, birdsong and the crackle of the hearth.
Our kitchen sources within 60 kilometres — including the honey, the butter and the gin.
Every suite faces the valley. Every suite has its own fireplace, its own bath, and its own particular view of the light.
A low-ceilinged timber room with a window seat built into the slope of the roof and a wood stove you can feed yourself.
A double-aspect corner room raised above the treeline — glass on two sides, a freestanding tub, and sunrise hitting the bed.
Two bedrooms across a split level, a long communal table, and a mezzanine that children claim within about four minutes.
The highest room on the ridge, and the only one with a glass roof over the bed. A private terrace, a telescope, a bath you could swim in, and nothing between you and 4,000 stars but cold clear air. Book at least three nights — guests rarely leave after one.
Nothing here is compulsory. Breakfast runs until eleven, the spa never closes, and the mountain does not care what time you wake up.
Three pools at 34°, 38° and 41°, fed by the spring on the east ridge and cut straight into the granite.
A seven-course tasting menu that changes with whatever the valley gives us that week. Forty seats, one sitting.
Heated to 30° all winter. It ends exactly where the valley begins — a design decision we are quietly proud of.
A 500 mm reflector and a guide who genuinely knows the sky. Clear-night sessions run whenever the clouds cooperate.
27 km of marked trail leave directly from the boot room. Snowshoes, poles and a flask of something warm included.
Boots warmed overnight, skis waxed, and a shuttle that leaves for the gondola whenever you are ready.
Four hundred bottles, most of them from within 200 km, poured by someone who will not lecture you about it.
Do-not-disturb that means it. Breakfast left outside the door. Housekeeping only when you ask for it.
Winter weekends sell out by October. Tell us when you are coming and we will hold the best available suite for 48 hours — no card, no deposit, no pressure.
Live rates for the next 12 months. Instant estimate, no booking fee.
Shot across a single week in February by our resident photographer. Nothing staged, nothing colour-graded.
We came for four nights and stayed for seven. The Observatory is worth every franc — we fell asleep looking at the Milky Way and woke up inside a cloud. Nobody wanted to drive home.
Marta LindqvistStockholm · February 2026
Eighteen suites means you actually get to know the staff, and they get to know how you like your coffee. The ski valet had my boots warm before I was out of bed, every single morning.
Daniel OkaforLondon · January 2026
I have never seen my children voluntarily put down a tablet. Four days with no screens, snowshoes and the observatory, and they are still asking when we go back to the big quiet.
Camille RousselLyon · December 2025