Nestled in the French Alps, close to the Swiss border, the winter ski resort of Morzine comes alive with flora, fauna and fabulous food options in summer, says Simon Lang

When the seasonal snow recedes in this little corner of France, it gradually reveals lush green meadows, spiky pine forests, sky blue lakes and a dramatic rocky backdrop. I’m in Morzine, a popular mid-level ski town in the winter and an increasingly popular destination for hikers, kayakers, mountain bikers, wild swimmers and foodies come summer. A quick EasyJet flight from Gatwick has transported me to a wonderland of clean, fresh air and the opportunity to embrace the natural beauty of the region in a myriad of ways. The area has lots of well-organised hiking trails that run into the mountains or through sweet-smelling Alpine woodlands – where I stumble across crops of the prettiest wild flowers and cascading waterfalls.

The hikes can be as strenuous or gentle as you like, as there is a squadron of local buses and a network of ski lifts to transport you up or down, or both if you just want to rise above it all and enjoy the view. On a clear day you can see all the way to Mont Blanc, and the cobalt blue sky looks endless. Back down on earth, the little town itself is paradise for speed junkies, who clutter the bars, cafés and restaurants, along with hikers and friendly locals. The resort has always been popular with Brits and Americans, and everyone speaks great English – luckily for me, as my schoolboy French is well past its best.  

A day spent with local guide Hervé Le Sobre was a particular highlight. His experience and knowledge hugely enhanced a mountain hike. Along the way he identified wild herbs – from culinary to the medicinal – gathering endless varieties of mint and sage, some tarragon, arnica, St John’s wort and camomile. We rounded off the adventure with a mountain barbecue, tucking into garlicky local sausages, piles of grilled vegetables and hunks of local cheeses. Sipping on beakers of wine, we watched the sunset over the mountains turn the sky a flaming orange, and truly felt as if we’d escaped all our problems, if only for a few days. If you want to, you can even spend the night in hammocks strung between the pine trees and sleep under the stars.

I prefer my creature comforts, however, so was delighted to return to my room at boutique hotel The Farmhouse. Built way back in 1771, and with only three owners since, this atmospheric home from home is cosy and intimate with its dark wooden beams, local slate floors and original features. The rooms include a former cobbler’s shop and carpenter’s workshop, but for some reason I was put in a room called the Cell – perhaps the check-in team knew more about me than I might be comfortable with? The room really was the village’s original prison cell, but of course is now much more homely, decorated with rich jewel-coloured fabrics and low-level lighting. I enjoyed its snug atmosphere and view over the gardens.

I had the chance to get out of my comfort zone during a session with Amelia Pearson, a wild swimming tutor with buzzperformance.com. Everyone who knows me knows I am completely phobic about being cold, but gradually acclimatising myself in Lake Montriond (admittedly with a shortie wetsuit on) was an experience I’d like to repeat. In the deep, dark lake, surrounded by such epic scenery, all really was well in my world.

Having worked up an appetite, it was par for the course to tuck into some substantial local fare. At La Chamade, owner and chef Thierry Thorens delivers first-class food using local seasonal produce, including veg from his kitchen garden. There’s morel mushroom tagliatelle, grilled veal with parsnip and horseradish purée, or, for the brave, calf’s head with gribiche sauce. Go for the food, but stay for the wine – the restaurant was named in a list of the top 100 French establishments with the best wine lists in 2022.

The most memorable meal, however, was much more humble and enjoyed at the farmhouse-cum-home of local guide and foraging expert Véronique Fillon. She had spent the morning passing on her 40-year knowledge of the local flora and fauna before taking us back to her ramshackle mountain retreat. Here, she and her husband dished up the rib-sticking local dish péla, a mixture of potato, onions, cheese and the foraged local herbs. Her sun-kissed face and calm, tireless demeanour somehow reflected the mountains she has lived in all her life. It was a privilege to glimpse them before the snow covers their glory once again.