Unbelievable Rustic Ski-In/Ski-Out Studio in Morillon, France!
Unbelievably Rustic, Maybe Slightly Unbelievable, Ski-In/Ski-Out Studio in Morillon, France: A Review That’s More "Real" Than "Perfect"
Alright, buckle up buttercups, because I'm about to spill the (slightly melted) fondue on this "Unbelievable Rustic Ski-In/Ski-Out Studio" in Morillon. I’m not gonna lie, the name sets expectations almost impossibly high. And, well, let’s just say the reality lands somewhere between “charming” and “yep, that’s rustic.”
First Impressions: A Ski-In, Maybe Ski-Out Adventure (More on That Later…)
The promise of true ski-in/ski-out is a siren song for any snow bum. And, in theory, this place delivered. The location? Utter bliss. Steps from the slopes, it had the potential to be a dream. Getting there? Let’s just say the drive from Geneva airport felt longer than my last relationship. (Mostly because I was stuck behind a cement truck crawling up a mountain…and also, because trust me, it was a long relationship).
Access & Getting Around: Mostly Fine, Unless You're Expecting Smooth Sailing.
- Accessibility: I'm not gonna lie, If you're relying on a wheelchair, this isn't the place. There are no elevators, and navigating the snowy paths around the building could be challenging even for those with good mobility.
- Airport Transfer: I'm not sure whether this actually has an airport transfer or not, I'm too tired to check.
- Car Park [Free of Charge]: Hallelujah! A free car park! Always a win.
- Car park [on-site]: Another bonus if you didn't feel like parking in the free lot, which was never crowded.
- Bicycle Parking: Fine for a summer stay, probably. Let's be honest, I wasn't biking, I was skiing.
- Taxi Service: Never needed it, but I'm sure it exists in a ski town.
Cleanliness and Safety: Feeling a little…sterile?
- Anti-viral cleaning products: Good! In these pandemic times, all the better.
- Daily disinfection in common areas: Comforting.
- Hand sanitizer: Everywhere. Seriously, it was like they were afraid of a sneeze attack.
- Room sanitization opt-out available…I didn't even know this was a thing I could do, lol.
- Rooms sanitized between stays: Alrighty then!
- Staff trained in safety protocol: Fine.
- Sterilizing equipment: More paranoia, or just precaution?
- Cashless payment service: Convenient, I guess. I prefer cash for the "forgetting I spent money" feeling, but ok.
- Hygiene certification: Fine.
- Physical distancing of at least 1 meter: Easy to do on the slopes, not so much in the restaurant!
- Professional-grade sanitizing services: This place was a sanitizing machine.
Rooms: Rustic Charm or Just…Rustic? (Also, the Internet. Oh, the Internet…)
Okay, the studio itself. “Rustic” is the operative word here. Think exposed beams, a kitchenette that's seen some serious action (and maybe a few plates of tartiflette), and a bed that's comfy, but not quite luxury-hotel comfy.
- Internet Access: Oh, the internet. The internet… Free Wi-Fi in all rooms, right? Supposedly. Okay, let's be honest: the Wi-Fi was a rollercoaster: Up and DOWN and UP and DOWN. At one point, I seriously considered stringing a cable from the router myself. The LAN connection was probably the only way to access it. Forget about video calls without serious buffering. Forget about streaming anything other than the memories of a slower, more wired time.
- * Available in All Rooms: Almost everything except a fast and reliable internet.
- Air conditioning: No AC, but frankly, you don’t need it in the mountains.
- Coffee/tea maker: Essential. Poured myself a cup of tea.
- Desk, Laptop workspace: Perfect for the slow internet.
- Hair dryer: Standard.
- Mini bar: More like a mini- cupboard, unless you consider the French cupboard of dried goods to include a mini bar.
- Separate shower/bathtub: You have to decide.
Dining, Drinking, and Snacking: "A La Carte?" More Like "A La…What's Open?"
The closest restaurant was in the main building: the bar, which they do have.
- Restaurants: Yeah, plural. Kind of.
- Bar: Perfect for a pre-dinner vin chaud.
- Coffee/tea in restaurant: Check.
- Snack bar: Maybe.
- Breakfast service: The hotel offered one, but I didn't eat the breakfast so I can't comment.
Things to Do & Ways to Relax: Skiing…and…Skiing?
Right, let's cut to the chase: you're here for the skiing. And the location delivers on that front.
- Fitness center: A couple machines, if you can tolerate a gym.
- Sauna: No, but I can't confirm or deny this.
- Spa/sauna: See above.
- Swimming pool: No.
- Pool with view: Nop.
- Ways to relax: Skiing, reading, and contemplating the mysteries of the erratic Wi-Fi are your options.
- Massage: Absolutely! Probably, but I didn't use it.
Services and Conveniences: The "Sometimes" List
- Concierge: Not really. More like, "Here's a map, good luck!"
- Daily housekeeping: Yep, they will clean.
- Elevator: Nope.
- Laundry service: Excellent.
- Luggage storage: Helpful.
- Gift/souvenir shop: Not that I saw.
For the Kids: Not Particularly Focused On.
- Babysitting service: I didn't see any. Probably not.
- Family/child friendly: This place is really for adults who like the ski.
- Kids facilities: No.
- Kids meal: Not that I noticed.
Cleanliness and Safety: Feeling a little…sterile?
- Anti-viral cleaning products: Good! In these pandemic times, all the better.
- Daily disinfection in common areas: Comforting.
- Hand sanitizer: Everywhere. Seriously, it was like they were afraid of a sneeze attack.
- Room sanitization opt-out available…I didn't even know this was a thing I could do, lol.
- Rooms sanitized between stays: Alrighty then!
- Staff trained in safety protocol: Fine.
- Sterilizing equipment: More paranoia, or just precaution?
- Cashless payment service: Convenient, I guess. I prefer cash for the "forgetting I spent money" feeling, but ok.
- Hygiene certification: Fine.
- Physical distancing of at least 1 meter: Easy to do on the slopes, not so much in the restaurant!
- Professional-grade sanitizing services: This place was a sanitizing machine.
The Verdict: Worth It? Maybe. With Caveats!
Would I stay here again? Possibly. The location is incredible for skiing. The studio is perfectly adequate if you're not expecting five-star luxury. Just remember: if tech matters to you, bring your own hotspot or prepare for a digital detox. And embrace the "rustic"! It's part of the charm…even if sometimes it’s just…rustic.
Escape to Paradise: Authentic Zeeland Farmhouse Awaits in Vrouwenpolder!
Alright, buckle up buttercups, because this isn't your grandma's meticulously planned itinerary. This, my friends, is a chaotic, gloriously imperfect, and deeply personal dive into a week at a rustic studio near the Morillon ski lift in France. Consider yourselves warned – I'm prone to tangents, existential crises fueled by bad coffee, and the occasional bout of pure, unadulterated joy.
Day 1: Arrival and the Great Cheese Conspiracy
- Morning (or, as I like to call it, "Whenever I Finally Surface"): Woke up at 6:30 am, it took me ages to find my passport, the feeling that I was forgetting something persisted through the entire trip and only vanished after I ate an entire brie.
- Afternoon: Landed in Geneva. The airport was utter chaos – think a swarm of stressed-out bees buzzing around luggage carousels. Managed to navigate the rental car situation (miracle!), which involved a near-breakdown when I couldn't figure out the GPS. Finally, finally, got the car pointed in the right direction. The drive to Morillon was breathtaking. The Alps, plastered across the horizon, looked like fluffy, snow-capped monsters. Made it to the studio! It’s tiny, cozy, and smells faintly of woodsmoke and… old socks? My first thought: "This is exactly what I needed." Second thought: "Where's the Wi-Fi password?"
- Evening: Unpacked, which basically involved throwing my clothes at the general direction of a wardrobe. Stumbled upon a local supermarket (the only one) and proceeded to engage in a full-blown cheese conspiracy. Faced with a wall of amazing cheeses, I just stood there, paralysed by choice. Ended up buying a whole brie (that's the "forgetting something" cured) and a baguette. Dinner was cheese, baguette, and a glass of local wine. Ate in the dark, enjoying the quiet. A perfect welcome.
Day 2: Ski Schmi, (More likely) and the Mountain's Mood Swings
- Morning: The plan: conquer the slopes! The reality: woke up to pouring rain. "Skiing" went from "epic adventure" to "stay inside and read" real quick. I was not sad about it.
- Afternoon: I decided to use the ski lift for fun, like going to the top of the mountain. And do absolutely nothing. The studio was cozy and warm with a nice atmosphere. The climb was an absolute joke. (it's literally downhill!) But the views were EPIC. The mountains were finally doing their thing.
- Evening: Went back to my cheese-based diet. Added a fancy local sausage to the mix. Watched the rain and the changing weather. The mountain kept changing it's mood. I think the mountain wanted to be left alone, and only let me see its natural state.
Day 3: The Incident of the Lost Glove and the Unexpected Beauty of Snowfall.
- Morning: Remembered I was supposed to buy warm clothes a week ago. Put all my clothes together to wear for skiing and decided to go anyway. At the top of the mountain, I lost a glove (I suspect foul play). I searched for at least 30 minutes. I started to cry.
- Afternoon: Went to another mountain, the ski resort was good, and I'd forgotten my glove by the time I'd arrived. Skiing was a blast. The snow felt so good.
- Evening: I went back to the studio to dry out, find a glove, and make a cup of tea. A good day.
Day 4: The Art of Doing Nothing, and the Search for the Perfect Crepe
- Morning: The previous day had taken its toll. The search for a replacement glove was abandoned. I took the entire day to myself and stayed in the studio. Read a book and looked outside.
- Afternoon: Found out that the local store made crepes. Went to get some crepes. The crepe guy was a grumpy french old man, but his crepes were life-changing. Worth every single, excruciating minute. They were the best Crepes. EVER.
- Evening: More Cheese and wine. I feel like a local. Started planning my next trip.
Day 5: The Hike That Almost Broke Me (in a good way).
- Morning: Decided to be "active". Found a hiking trail near my studio. The beginning was pleasant, the weather was perfect, I was feeling good!.
- Afternoon: The trail got steep, fast. My lungs were screaming, my legs were burning, and I questioned every single life choice that led me to that moment. But the view from the top. Oh. My. God. It was worth every single agonising step. Felt alive!
- Evening: Collapsed back at the studio. Ate some cheese, drank some wine. And felt proud of myself.
Day 6: The Day of Utter Serenity
- Morning: Woke up refreshed. The mountain showed me it's best side again. I was truly touched.
- Afternoon: Sat in a cafe and watched people in town. I never felt such peace.
- Evening: I felt at peace with everything: with the studio, the mountain, the cheese. I felt like I could stay forever.
Day 7: Farewell, Cheese, and the Gentle Longing for Home
- Morning: Packing was an exercise in controlled chaos. Said goodbye to the cheese. I decided to leave after a morning walk, it was the best send-off.
- Afternoon: Drive back to Geneva.
- Evening: Flew home. I was already missing the mountains, the cheese, the crepes. Already plotting my return.
Okay, So You Want the Dirt on That 'Unbelievable Rustic Ski-In/Ski-Out Studio in Morillon'? Buckle Up.
Is it *really* ski-in/ski-out, or am I going to be hiking in my boots like a sad yeti?
Alright, LISTEN UP. "Ski-in/ski-out" is a slippery slope, metaphorically speaking, and also literally in this case. Technically, YES, you can clip your skis ON the doorstep. BUT… buckle up, because here's the REALITY. You need to be prepared for a MINOR scramble. Like, five steps out the door, shuffle awkwardly uphill on your skis, potentially looking like a complete beginner (which, let’s be honest, I sometimes am, and it’s humbling). Then, you're on the piste. Coming *in*? That's the glorious part. After a long day, you can actually ski almost right to the door. Almost. You might have to do a final, slightly precarious, snowplow, hoping to avoid a faceplant. I once, on a particularly slushy afternoon, *completely* missed the landing and ended up giggling like a maniac in a snowdrift. Good times. So, yes, ski-in/ski-out… with a healthy dose of reality and maybe a sprinkle of "pray you don't fall while looking cool."
Rustic… how rustic are we talking? Like, composting toilets rustic?
Okay, breathe. Composting toilets are NOT INVOLVED. Thank. God. We're talking *charming* rustic. Think exposed beams, a certain… "lived-in" character. Don't expect pristine, minimalist perfection. The charm is in the imperfections, honestly. The wonky door that sticks, the slightly uneven floorboards - it's all part of the experience! There was a little bit of a leak near the window the first time I stayed there, like, a *tiny* bit. I mean, it was nothing a few strategically placed towels couldn't handle. And who can blame a tiny leak when you're right on the slopes, am I right? Just remember, it's a cozy, lived-in space. Embrace it. It's better than some sterile, generic hotel room, trust me.
Is the kitchen actually usable, or is it just for show? Because I like to eat. A lot.
The kitchen… ah, the kitchen. It's functional. Don't expect Michelin-star equipment, but it's got the essentials. I once attempted to make a bouillabaisse in there (don't judge; mountains make me ambitious). It was… a learning experience. The stove works, the fridge keeps things cold, and there's enough counter space to prep something semi-palatable after a long day of skiing. I will admit the oven, on the occasion, can be a bit...persnickety. I remember setting off the smoke alarm trying to reheat a leftover pizza. My fault entirely. Good ventilation is your friend! It's not ideal for gourmet feasts, but if you're happy making pasta, soup, or the occasional cheese and baguette situation, you're golden. And there's a kettle, which is crucial for morning coffee. ALWAYS.
What about Wi-Fi? Because Instagram isn't going to update itself. (And, you know, work…)
Okay, so the Wi-Fi… is there. *Technically*. It's not always lightning-fast, and you might find yourself channeling your inner dial-up enthusiast at peak times. Sometimes, you can upload a picture in seconds. Other times, it feels like waiting for the cable guy to show up when you were promised it would be there today. I've spent evenings huddled by the window, desperately trying to send an email while the digital world around me felt like molasses. I recommend bringing entertainment, like books, good old fashioned books, and a backup plan for when you have that oh-so-needed connection but you are suddenly hit with a black hole of a Wi-Fi outage. Embrace the digital detox...unless you *really* need to keep your social media followers updated on your après-ski activities.
Is it *actually* unbelievable, or is that just marketing hype? Because I've been burned before…
Look, "unbelievable" is a strong word. It's got some hype to it. BUT… and this is a big but (insert your own joke here), the location *is* pretty fantastic. The views are genuinely breathtaking. Waking up with the mountains right outside your window is incredible. The whole ski-in/ski-out thing is legitimately amazing, even with the minor inconvenience of the initial shuffle. It's got charm, a feeling of escape. So, "unbelievable"? Maybe not in a "flying car" kind of way. But definitely in a "makes-you-want-to-stop-everything-and-just-breathe-in-the-fresh-mountain-air" kind of way. Would I go back? Absolutely. I already have, multiple times. And I will, again. Even if it's just for the giggles I get when having to shuffle 5 steps to reach the slopes with skis.
How's the parking situation? Because I'm always worried about parking. ALWAYS
Parking! Ah, the bane of the modern travel enthusiast's existence. Well, here's the deal... It's generally okay. There's usually a designated spot, or you might need to park a short distance away. But nothing remotely difficult. You won’t be circling the block for an hour, which is a huge win in my book. I've never had any major parking dramas. Just plan to move your car if it snows heavily, which is frankly, the best type of situation to find yourself in on a ski trip
What's the vibe? Is it party central or a quiet retreat? Because I'm not a fan of raucous all-nighters.
The vibe is more cozy and relaxed. It's not a party destination, thank goodness. Think quiet evenings, maybe with a book by the fire (if you're lucky enough to be there during the winter) or enjoying a glass of wine on the balcony, taking in the view. There are enough restaurants in the area to offer a lively outing if you want it. The studio itself is definitely more aimed at folks who appreciate a peaceful getaway. You'll have a good, solid sleep.
Cleaning: Do I need to worry? Because honestly, cleaning? Ugh.
Cleaning? Yeah. You'll need to do SOME. They usually expect it to be left reasonably tidy. Like, don'Globetrotter Hotels
