Iconic Portrait, Fermes de Marie

Make no mistake: my architecture, made of materials chiselled by generations of showers and storms, although in great demand, was, at the turn of the 90s, completely out of fashion. There was only one farce to grasp the value of an alpine farm, and convert it into a travel destination. But nothing would have happened if the enthusiasm of loyal hosts had not helped me to blossom and become this place that awakens the senses at dawn. I was not designed in a design firm taking the plunge into Alpine style; I owe everything to you! You, who know that the character of my homes was already well worn out by the time I blew out my first candle, under the name Les Fermes de Marie.

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MY HAMLET, BY HILLS AND VALLEYS

By going back the paths of my story, you will get lost in fir forests that have seen lines of farmers and peasants pass by. On the rings of my old wood sawn into beams and planks, transformed into facades and furniture, stories spanning a hundred years can be read. Because before deploying myself in gardens and chalets, before receiving with enthusiasm and warmth, I was mazots and attics, huts and brinquebalant farms stuck in the impenetrable roads of the two Savoies. It was therefore necessary for a couple of hoteliers to bring together what was scattered and admit Mégevan to me, who came from countries whose picturesque heritage is my essence — from Passy to Chatel, from Manigod to the Terres d'Abondance. But it was accompanied by a handful of sturdy men who came down from La Giettaz that Jean-Louis dismantled, stored, numbered and recorded every single piece intended to perfect my frame. The aim remained unclear, but the persistence was clear: to dismantle some fifty properties. I say it without blushing, a bit mischievous, my refinement was built on barter barter. Cubic meters of planks for pallets of cinder blocks, a quantity of jail abandoned for a slap in the hand, and always a glass of booze to warm up bodies and seal deals. My construction was epic and led by a team of furious people ready to increase my scale when I was just a cardboard model. While the roof of one of my houses emerged here, the foundations of another were poured there. And soon, the entire Sibuet family was able to pose with me for a first photo with a farm connotation, where I stood proudly in a cottage surrounded by a flamboyant lawn. I can now tell you: off the field, concrete mixers and diggers were still active on the construction site so that my hospitality finally blossomed.

While the time wanted the hotel industry to be limited to summary nights, I was designed for my guests to enjoy whole days at my house. Jean-Louis' Sunken Nose and Jocelyne's Busy Head Allowed Me to Grow Up at Full Speed, Exploring New Boundaries Through My Iconic Tower and Underground Corridors. Should I still fill my case with this stamp that reconciled opinions, should I still instill in it the tumult of what we call real life! For more than a decade, Nicolas and Marie's trip consisted of crossing my hamlet from one side to the other, through interiors embellished by these treasures from another age that their parents brought back from faraway bargain hunting. My landlady, for her part, fashioned my rooms one by one, so that they didn't look like any other. By expressing her instincts as an apprentice designer, Jocelyne dressed my walls with her naive Douanier Rousseau paintings, and dressed my lights with lampshades woven with wool and subtlety. Ornaments that refined my elegance by which chests, cabinets, and shelves from another era harmonized. A way to play with tones and fabrics, to sift my rusticity without ever suffocating it. That's how the panache of my lifestyle was printed on the retinas and on glossy paper, from Europe to America.

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MADE OF THE SAME WOOD

I have a solid reputation as a hedonist, and my great restaurant, like its variations, continue to cook the crowned quartet of my region: crozets and cheese, I am the apologist! Mushrooms and polenta, I am the specialist! I cannot formalize myself when it comes to indulging in gastronomic delights. Room will always be made for extra cover, the opportunity will always be in order for a casual outing or to wear your most beautiful evening dress. In addition to the knowledge of bombance, I was introduced to the knowledge of youth. If my spa became as famous as my meals, it's because I was one of the pioneers in the field. To the hustle and bustle, to the exhausting skiing sessions and other uphill hikes, they answered by building me a temple of silence, well-being and anti-stress, where you can guess the scent of edelweiss. The voluptuousness of birch combined with magnetic granite in my alcove dedicated to Pure Cosmetics.

My energy is similar to that of these teams who, for decades, have worked hard to maintain me. Together, we joke and we like to say to each other that some are almost part of the furniture! And I already feel undebted to these future talents that will allow me to age, without ever aging. The Sibuets also know how to give me very particular care. At the beginning, they even settled on the floors of my main building, before taking some distance in one of my adjoining cottages. But they will be able to attest that leaving the nest is not synonymous with respite. My alarms used to get out of bed the entire household then devoted to the role of lookout, and to which Nicolas and Marie did not mind. In fact, I remember that these two helped prepare for the deadlines that punctuate my years like a jingle. At Christmas, everyone worked hard to turn oranges into amber apples with a few cleverly planted cloves, which were enough to fill me with the scent of the party. I confess that I have stolen many meetings from this family, in order to allow others to have exceptional moments. In order to make amends for this childhood spent between two doors, the siblings made my morning buffets and snacks an extension of their cellar. That was the way it was when I was both office and home.

From this eventful youth, I draw the excitement that continues to animate me. What a pleasure I have in sheltering the dreams of new ephemeral occupants! What a pleasure it is to watch staff take care of my alleys and my atmosphere! More than a hundred of them carry my affable Savoyard voice, to embody the diligence of my welcome to customers crossing my threshold. With them, I experienced the emotion of seeing genealogies that have remained faithful to me broaden, that of seeing Marie and Nicolas take thirty years and gain in responsibilities, until they seized the kidneys of my destiny. Certain that it is easier to build than to maintain, their parents told me how proud they are of them. It is true that I am aging, but with my feet firmly anchored in the soil that saw me grow. So the sister, who had fun coating the edges of the glasses with sugar, is now the guarantor of the smooth running of my business. Her palate ensures that my gratins are the same as those of Mamie Fernande, and that my thick apple pies continue to be delicious. I also remember the intrepidity of the brother who jumped from my snowy roofs, then from post to post, accepting all the work I had to offer him. He, who learned to do two with one, carried out timely work with the sole aim of rehabilitating me while maintaining the supporters of my identity. A balance to which I certainly owe my longevity.

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AT YOUR GAZE, I AM WAKING UP

It is difficult to escape the sirens of standardization. However, I got my five stars by not entering all the boxes of this distinction. So to speak, I never shine better than in contrast, than by respecting the rebellious spirit that founded me; by letting my tenants taste the twists and turns of the adventure in my Seasoned Land Defenders; by preferring the patina of antique furniture, even if it means testing their functionality; than by letting the spikes carve their work in my woods, and assume their apparent irregularity.

Under my impeccable appearance and my expert service, there are therefore imperfections and the familiarity specific to the family pension. Oh, I know that my custom of nestling luxury in simplicity is causing some drama, but I reaffirm that these are all the attractions of my charm. A charm based on that of the seasons, whose succession allows me to confirm my traditions. As soon as the cold winter takes hold of my exterior, the aura of the mountain commands me, and stories seem to engrave on my features the scenery of their legends. I am filled with the feats of freestylers and the bowls of snowplough pros narrated by the crackling fire. And in the privacy of my small bar, good-natured folklore is established. Families celebrate the new Snowflake on the jumpsuit with freshly picked herbal teas and mouth-watering sweets. Next Door, Friends Are Toasting When They See Me Wrapped Up In A Thick White Coat, Delighted To Enjoy A Mild Temperature When The Weather Conforms To Their Dark'N'Stormy. Then, my entrance is locked and my windows close at the time of the general thaw, and only reopen to the summer panorama. The geraniums then devour my balconies and cover their sidekicks who grow below — gentians, rhododendrons and arnicas. While the Sainte-Marie festivities are getting ready, with an atmosphere that is more casual than stuffy, I am finally opening my banquets at L'Alpage; a piece of terrace watched closely by the peaks of the valley, which one would reach under applause, as it requires such a meritorious effort to climb.

Here, my guests enjoy casserole dishes, grilled meats, and a view that convinces them to come back the following year. Although the falling leaves and the arrival of the autumn glow mark the departure of my last vacationers, I would not dare to take time off again. This is the time for initiates discovering within my walls a confidential beauty that can be written in ochre. In the end, it doesn't matter the cycle or the harvest, the desires or the reasons. For me, the only thing that counts is the astonishment of the elders who I see falling back into innocence; the only thing that counts for me is the wonder of my young residents for whom I will always be ahead. From the dreamers who meet me again for a pilgrimage to their childhood memories, to the regulars whose friend I am constantly leaving for some festivities; from the eagerness to use my seat between two worldliness, to couples discovering that I am for a moment devoted to fidelity, there is no encounter that I cannot honor. I am not interested in the clone. I strive for everyone to find what is theirs in me. My Farms are lots of land where the present is cultivated without worrying about tomorrow. And while goodbyes are inevitable, I am certain that ties are also inevitable. A conviction reinforced by this sweet nostalgia — believe me, it takes hold of those who pack up, and leave me leaving behind a last wish: that of staying a little longer.