In December 2023, I started writing down what families asked me on their very first evening. At first, I thought I would turn it into an FAQ. Then I realized that half the questions were about things guests could have brought — and that no one had told them. Not out of malice. Out of a misplaced sense that it was obvious. So here is the list I wish I had received before my first stay in a private chalet, of any size.
The ten items below are not essential. You can do without them. But every time they were there, the mood of the stay opened up a notch. It can’t be quantified. After 80 families hosted, it is simply statistical.
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Slippers you truly love.
Not the foam slippers you find on hotel nightstands. Real ones: felt, suede, sheepskin, comfortable, the kind you can wear four days in a row without minding. You will put them on at the front door. They will become your chalet skin.
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Three separate decks of cards.
One deck is never enough: someone wants to play belote while others are on their third round of Uno. Two decks is better — but by the end of the first evening, there is always a card missing. Three decks is the right dose for a tribe of eight to fifteen. We keep a supply at the chalet, but it is mostly meant for the children.
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An e-reader or two.
The chalet’s fiber Wi-Fi keeps the series streaming, but it does nothing for conversations that last. An e-reader on the living room table is a quiet invitation to settle in for an hour, to switch off from the feed, to read two chapters with the fire crackling. When hot tub time comes, no one wants anything more than to do nothing, together, apart. The e-reader is the tool for that solitary presence.
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A camera that isn’t your phone.
Even a six-euro disposable, or an old film camera picked up at Emmaüs. Phone photos get looked at once on the flight home, then forgotten. Printed photos, even mediocre ones, become the postcards cousins send each other in April. Arpian is a place that deserves a little film grain.
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A bottle of the wine you truly love.
Not for cooking. Not for a birthday. To drink, on the evening of the second day, back from the slopes, for no particular occasion. The chalet has a well-stocked wine cellar and recommendations from local partners, but nothing replaces the “here, I brought this one because it matters to me.” It is a gift you give yourself before sharing it.
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A small notebook.
For the recipes swapped at the end of the stay, the addresses families pass on to each other (the good restaurant a colleague told you about in Méribel, the bookstore in Moûtiers), the first names of the children of parents you have just met. The short memory of travel needs something physical to hold on to. A notebook is enough, with a pen that works.
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A spare pair of sunglasses.
This isn’t a plug for opticians. Every week, without fail, someone breaks theirs — in the pocket of a jacket someone sat on, in the hot tub where they were left on the edge, in a backpack packed too tight. A cheap pair at the bottom of the suitcase saves a day of skiing. You will hand it to the first person who needs it. It never fails.
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Sunscreen that smells good.
In the mountains, in winter, nobody thinks about the sun. That is a mistake. Between the glare off the snow and the altitude, an unprotected face burns on the very first day — even under a gray sky. Choose a sunscreen whose scent you like, SPF 50, not a summer sports formula. You will put it on in the morning, after the hot tub, on the terrace. It will smell good. You will smell good.
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An “après-ski” outfit that isn’t pajamas.
The temptation, back from the slopes, is sweatpants. Don’t give in completely. An outfit that is comfortable but looks like you thought about it — a chunky cashmere sweater you wear nowhere else, an oversized flannel shirt, a wool skirt with opaque tights — is the outfit that turns a dinner at the chalet into a real evening. You will feel better. The photos will look better. It is a very small effort for a very big return.
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Nothing else.
The temptation, for a seven-day stay in a chalet, is to plan too much. Too many clothes, too much gear, too many little just-in-case items. The honest truth, after three years of hosting: the lightest suitcases always lead to the most enjoyable stays. The chalet is equipped with everything you need. We deliver groceries if you like. Skis and boots can be rented on site. Trust the place for the rest.
One last wordAbout children, because they deserve their own paragraph.
For parents coming with children between 4 and 10, I strongly recommend a pocket lifeguard. Not a real one, of course. I mean: a book, a figurine, a coloring book, a Lego set, something that keeps your child busy on their own for twenty minutes when you need a glass of mulled wine with the other adults. We have a wonderful Family Room, with an arcade machine and a foosball table, but it mostly works for ages 8 and up. The little ones want something calmer and more tangible. A small stay gift — unwrapped on the second day for the surprise — is one of the best purchases you will make for the vacation.
The reverse checklistWhat you are better off not bringing.
By the same token, here is what we see arriving every week and leaving untouched.
- Your own bath towels. Ours are thick cotton, warmed on the towel rails. Leave yours at home.
- A hair dryer. There is one, professional-strength, in every bathroom.
- Instant coffee or Nespresso pods. We have an espresso machine and coffee beans from a roaster in Chambéry.
- Large board games. We have an entire cabinet devoted to them, from Monopoly to Catan. Check before filling up your car.
- A Bluetooth speaker. The Family Room has a sound system that takes Spotify, AirPlay and Bluetooth, plus a turntable for vinyl records.
This line, which isn’t mine — I read it in a Japanese magazine about slow travel — sums up everything I want to pass on to you before your first arrival. Arpian is not a place you need to arrive armed for. It is a place to arrive unburdened.
The slippers, the cards, the e-reader, the camera, the wine, the notebook, the spare sunglasses, the sunscreen, the après-ski outfit, and nothing else.
See you soon at the chalet.