Waking up to
the Dents du Midi
In winter, everything happens just above. The pistes, the Portes du Soleil, the snow, then back down to the village, around a table at the brasserie.
Winter mornings start at the window. The light rises slowly behind the Dents du Midi, catches the snow-covered roofs and wakes the village bit by bit. On the square, the first doors open, a few footprints mark the fresh snow and the day begins without any hurry. Downstairs, the coffee is hot, the bread is fresh and breakfast is waiting. The pistes come right after.
They’re never far. Les Crosets and Champoussin are just above, and with them the Portes du Soleil open up, between Switzerland and France. After breakfast, off to the slopes: Champéry, Morgins, Avoriaz and much further still for those who want to rack up the kilometres. At the end of the day you come back down to the village and the warmth of the brasserie.
And for those who like the mountain without lifts, snowshoe routes leave from the village, the ski-touring slopes are within easy reach of your skins, and the valley keeps hidden combes where you won’t meet a soul all day.
“Snow changes the village’s scale: everything becomes closer, slower, sharper.”
Coming back is part of the day. Skis in the ski room, boots drying, and the table at Le Caveau lighting up again: alpine cheeses, a local dish, Valais wines. On nights of heavy snow nobody goes out again; you just climb the stairs to bed.
Winter in Val-d’Illiez isn’t resort winter. It’s a village that goes on living with the snow. The pistes are just above, the shops open in the morning, people run into each other on the square and the train keeps running down to the plain. You come for the mountain, and come home each evening to a real village.
