Hey, I’m Kayla Sox. I ski, I fall, I eat too much raclette, and then I ski again. I’ve spent several winters hopping around French resorts. Trains, shuttles, weird lift maps, the whole thing. I’ve bought the passes, waited in the lines, and yeah—sometimes I cried into my neck gaiter. So this is my first-person, no-fluff review of the best places to ski in France.
(If you want the even longer, totally unfiltered version, I broke everything down in a separate piece over on Just France.) For a quick mainstream ranking to compare notes, Snow Magazine’s Top 10 Best Ski Resorts in France can be a handy cross-check.
Quick outline:
- What I look for and how I judge
- Fast picks by vibe
- Real stories from the big-name spots
- Little tips that saved me time (and toes)
How I Judge A Ski Trip (Simple But Real)
I keep it clear:
- Snow and terrain: Can I find good groomers and off-piste, both?
- Vibe: Friendly or showy? Chill or party?
- Food: A hot bowl of soup or just sad fries?
- Lines and lifts: Old chairs or fast gondolas?
- Cost and travel: Does the taxi eat my lunch money?
You know what? Sometimes I want steep. Sometimes I want a sunny blue run with a view and hot chocolate. Both are valid. If you want an extra layer of practical planning info—train routes, pass prices, even regional slang—I recommend browsing Just France, a free resource that saved me from more than one logistical face-plant.
My Fast Picks (If You Don’t Want To Read Everything)
- Best for experts: Chamonix
- Best for variety: Les Trois Vallées (Courchevel / Méribel / Val Thorens)
- Best for snow sure early and late: Val d’Isère & Tignes
- Best long black run: Alpe d’Huez (Sarenne)
- Best for families on a budget: La Plagne or Les Arcs
- Best car-free charm: Avoriaz
- Best for quiet, real-mountain feel: Serre Chevalier
- Best food scene: Megève (pricey, but yum)
Now, let me tell you what I loved and what annoyed me, because both matter.
Chamonix — Wild, Iconic, A Little Moody
I love Chamonix. I also hate it sometimes. Here’s why.
- The good: The Aiguille du Midi will make your heart race before you even click in. I skied the Vallée Blanche with a guide after a fresh storm. The glacier ice was blue, the sky was clean, and I felt tiny in the best way.
- The bad: It’s not one big linked area. You jump buses between zones. When wind hits, lifts shut fast. Also, crowds on powder days? Oh boy.
- A small story: I slipped stepping onto the arête (roped ridge) and laughed after. Scary, but I was clipped in. Bring a guide, bring a head for heights, and bring snacks.
Great for big lines, mixed for families, not cheap, but worth it once in your life.
Val d’Isère & Tignes — Big Mileage, Big Grins
This area is a workhorse. Snow holds well, even late in spring.
- The good: Long, fast laps. I love La Face de Bellevarde early, when it’s firm but fair. Tignes has high, wide bowls that feel like a playground.
- The bad: Pricey lunches and busy school holidays. I had one whiteout day that felt like skiing inside a milk jug.
- Tip: Start on Solaise side on cold mornings. It warms first. And keep spare goggles for flat light.
If I need a sure thing for snow, this is my call.
Les Trois Vallées — Courchevel, Méribel, Val Thorens
It’s huge. Like “I-lost-my-friends-and-my-map” huge.
- The good: Val Thorens is high and keeps snow. Courchevel’s Combe de Saulire at 10 a.m. is butter. Méribel sits in the middle, so you can roam.
- The bad: Courchevel can feel fancy, and sometimes a bit showy. Méribel gets busy mid-day. I paid way too much for a coffee once and felt silly.
- A snack win: A hot tartiflette in a small Méribel hut saved a grumpy day.
On non-ski rest days I’m a fan of jumping on the train and exploring nearby towns—my full city-hopping adventure across France changed how I plan transfer days.
Go for the range. Stay for the laps. Set a meeting spot. You’ll need one.
Alpe d’Huez — Sunny Miles And The Sarenne
Alpe d’Huez feels friendly. Big sun. Big views.
- The good: The Sarenne black run is long and fun if you time it right. Early start, firm snow, smooth turns—I grinned the whole way.
- The bad: Late season afternoons get slushy. I stuck a ski and did a slow, stupid tumble. Soft snow hides pride.
- Tip: Do the tunnel run if it’s open and safe. It’s quirky and cool.
Good mix for groups with different levels.
Les Deux Alpes — High Glacier, Party Energy
This place runs young and loud, but I like the spirit.
- The good: Reliable glacier laps and a fun park scene. I once took five park runs and then hid for a crepe.
- The bad: The main home run gets scraped by 3 p.m. I’ve side-slipped more here than I’d like to admit.
- Note: On storm days, I stay lower and seek trees; visibility up high can go from meh to nope.
Avoriaz (Portes du Soleil) — Car-Free, Snowy, Family-Sweet
Wood buildings, horse-sled taxis, and quiet nights.
- The good: You can ski to your door. It’s great for kids. Tree runs toward Lindarets are my happy place on storm days.
- The bad: Lower parts of the area can get thin in warm spells. And the border signs sneak up on you—I once ended up in Switzerland by mistake. Cute mistake, though.
- Tip: Pack snacks. When kids crash, food is peace.
Serre Chevalier — Real Mountain Feel, Softer On The Wallet
I don’t talk about it much because I’m selfish. It’s calm and lovely.
- The good: Tree skiing when storms hit. Quiet lift lines outside holidays. Locals were kind and patient when my French got weird.
- The bad: Snow can be great, or just okay, depending on year. It’s a longer transfer from big airports.
- A warm memory: I thawed out in a tiny café with onion soup and felt human again.
La Plagne & Les Arcs (Paradiski) — Easy, Vast, Family-Friendly
If you want miles without stress, this hits.
- The good: Loads of blues and reds. Good value apartments. The Vanoise Express is a fun double-decker ride between the two.
- The bad: Some resort bases feel boxy. Charm isn’t the point here—skiing is. Late day flats can test your legs.
- Tip: Les Arcs 1950 is cute and cozy if you want a village feel.
Megève — Style, Food, And Gentle Charm
This is where I take friends who like nice lunches and pretty streets. (If you have a rest day and crave city vibes, I shared my favorite French spots in this roundup after one particularly good rail pass.)
- The good: Beautiful tree runs. Great restaurants. I had a perfect roast chicken and almost fell asleep at the table.
- The bad: Not the steepest, not the highest. Snow can be variable.
- For a quiet day: Ski early, then wander town. It’s postcard stuff.
A Few Honest Tips I Wish I Knew Earlier
- Go early or go late: First lifts mean smooth groomers. Late spring means softer bumps—fun if you like mash.
- Holiday math: French school holidays mean lines. Check dates. I once waited 35 minutes for a mid-mountain chair and swore never again.
- Sun and skin: French sun at altitude feels gentle until it isn’t. Sunscreen, even on gray days.
- Layers win: I carry a thin puffy in the backpack. Saved me on a dead-stop chair in Tignes.
- Food hacks: A baguette and cheese in your pocket beats a 25-euro lunch when you’re just not in the mood.
- Guides are gold: For Chamonix or any off-piste day, hire a guide, carry avy gear, and listen. No bragging is worth a bad call.
Traveling solo and craving some friendly après chat beyond the hotel bar? For LGBTQ+ skiers who want to swap slope stories in real time or line up a relaxed meet-up in resort, jump into GayChat.io—you’ll find free chat rooms full of