The Quiet Glamour of Lech

If what you want from a ski holiday is the whole indulgent, majestic, nothing-left-out experience, Lech is the answer. I have been coming back for years, and it has never once let me down. This is the Arlberg, a cluster of five linked villages that likes to call itself the cradle of Alpine skiing, and Lech, once a quiet farming village, has long since become the one Europe's royals choose. Princess Diana skied here. It still has that hush of old glamour about it: polished, unhurried and very sure of itself.

Our base was Hotel Gotthard, run by the Walch family, and it sits exactly where you would want it: at the peaceful end of the village, a short stroll from the lifts, the boutiques and the restaurants, with a mountain stream rushing past outside. There is no sweeter lullaby in the Alps: the sound of that water carried me off every single night.

We had a corner suite, generous enough for the four of us without anyone tripping over anyone else, with a sleek, modern bathroom and proper space to stow the skis, boots and general paraphernalia that a family on the mountain seems to multiply overnight. It is the kind of practical luxury you only notice when it's missing elsewhere.

But the true heart of the Gotthard is its bakery. It sits behind glass on the lower ground floor, and the scent of whatever is in the oven drifts up the corridors at all hours, which is both wonderful and dangerous. Homemade biscuits wait at reception all day long, and I defy anyone to walk past them.

The scent of whatever is in the oven drifts up the corridors at all hours.

Then there is the brewery. Clemens Walch's passion project is a gleaming, state-of-the-art microbrewery, and its beer is poured in the snooker room, which strikes me as exactly the right place for it. Next door, in what was once the old bakery, the wine cellar hosts gin and schnapps tastings with the hotel's own smoked meats. It is the most civilised way imaginable to end an afternoon on the slopes.

From breakfast to dinner, the standard never wavered all week, and on the evening you want something more intimate, the Gotthard Stube is the cosiest of à la carte dining rooms: all warm wood and low light, the sort of room you don't want to leave. The hotel's separate Café Gotthard is a favourite with the locals, which tells you all you need to know. Upstairs there's a bar for a nightcap, and for the hours between skiing and supper, a spa that is compact but beautifully done, with indoor and outdoor pools, a sauna and a smart, modern gym.

And the skiing. The Arlberg's piste map is vast and wonderfully varied, and the lifts are fast and modern. Lech boasts the highest average snowfall of any major ski area in the Alps, backed by serious snowmaking and some of the best off-piste around, so even when a season starts slowly, you are in safe hands here. We spent a morning with Christian of Alpin Pro, a small team of professional skiers who tailor every lesson to you. We were already confident on our skis; Christian made us better, and made it fun.

Even when a season starts slowly, you are in safe hands here.

What I love most, though, is that Lech is a real village, not a purpose-built resort. It is lively without being loud, and if you're not skiing, there are beautiful winter walks to be had. Pack proper snow boots and good thermals and you'll be out exploring every day.

Zurich is the nearest airport, and the Arlberg Express will have you in the village about two hours later. By the time the stream is singing you to sleep, you'll wonder why you ever skied anywhere else.

Photographs courtesy of Hotel Gotthard and Lech Zürs Tourismus.