Vive Vercors!

by admin in RSS Social News. Posted February 1, 2026

It was the sight of a stuffed wild boar wearing a jaunty beret that first tipped me off: Vercors does things a little differently. Tucked away in a quieter corner of the Alpine region of Isère, this mountain range dotted with pretty villages and small, laid-back ski areas feels like one of France’s most underrated mountain playgrounds.

At a time when some big name French resorts are being complained-about for overcrowding, Vercors offers a compellingly chilled alternative. Its villages and ski hubs are also surprisingly accessible: around an hour and a half from Lyon and under an hour’s drive from Grenoble.

The best bases for exploring the area are Villard-Corrençon – Villard-de-Lans and neighbouring Corrençon-en-Vercors, two villages linked by pistes, trails and road. Villard has a pretty pedestrianised centre and a compact, modern ski base, while Corrençon is all wooden chalets and forest edges, with a Michelin-starred restaurant, Asterales, tucked down a side street. Accommodation is refreshingly unfussy here – this isn’t a destination for flashy design hotels, but if you’re simply here to ski by day and eat cheese by night, you’re well served. Good-value options include simple hotels such as Les Playes in Villard and family-run gîtes like Arcanson, which offers cross-country guiding and has a hot tub for post-ski soaking.

This isn’t a destination for anyone intent on clocking huge verticals or skiing black runs from first to last lift, and Vercors is actually better known for Nordic skiing, with around 600km of forest trails. That said, on the slopes above Villard the snow is deep, crisp and even on the day I arrive. Strong winds were howling at 2,000 metres, so we head lower into the sheltered valley. It turns out to be a smart move: long, cruisy greens and playful blues weave through open woodland, linking the villages and tempting side-country and off-piste lines. The pistes have an epic backdrop of mountain peak, and the vibe is laid back and friendly. I’m visiting midweek and outside of school holidays, and half the time we had the pistes to ourselves, but my local guide insists the laid-back atmosphere, lack of queues and unhurried skiing are typical here all season long. We go wide rather than high, dipping into the quieter villages of the area, and I realise our group are the only English voices I hear all day.

Vercors would make for a great winter weekender or a pitstop on a ski safari around the heavyweight resorts of the French Alps, but it really comes into its own if you fancy trying something a little different. Activities on offer range from paragliding and ice climbing to snowshoeing, but the local favourite is Nordic skiing. Up a forest road, flanked by towering snowbanks, lies an area locals affectionately call “Little Sweden”. Le stade de biathlon David-Moretti, as it’s more formally known, offers biathlon training and 120km of cross-country tracks in Autrans-Meaudre – all for a pocket-friendly €14 a day.

Skiers of all ages are clicking into skinny skis and chatting cheerfully as they set off beneath snow-laden pines. I meet ESF guide Dorian to try my hand at biathlon, lining up shots and pinging off rounds at a piste-side shooting range before swapping rifle for skis. Going cross-country feels like starting again from scratch, with lots of wobbling ineffectually down gentle inclines and falling over ungracefully, but soon we’re gliding along beneath the trees. Dorian demonstrates the skating technique – he looks elegant; I look like someone put a windmill on skis – but it’s enormous fun, and feels like a better workout than careering downhill.

Dinner requires just as much effort as my attempts to cross country ski. You really have to work for your supper at Le Clariant, a remote mountain restaurant that can only be reached via a 30-minute uphill hike. The winding hillside path is lit romantically (but somewhat ineffectively) by fairy lights, and one point I wonder if we’ve made a terrible navigational error and are now stranded in a snowdrift.

“It’s usually groomed,” laughs Isabel, my local guide for the evening.

Finally, the path opens onto a clearing, and a wooden cabin straight out of a fairytale. Inside, the restaurant runs almost entirely on renewable energy. Candlelight flickers, the beret-wearing boar presides over the fireplace, and there’s no electricity or phone signal to be found. There’s also just one thing on the menu: raclette made with Vercors’ excellent local blue cheese, served with potatoes and charcuterie. Drinks include homemade walnut wine and local liqueurs – and it turns out homemade digestifs make an excellent insulating layer against the cold for the stomp home again. This weird and wonderful supper feels like yet another example of how this mountain community likes to do things a little differently.