Courchevel's Luxury Ski Resort Rocked by Fire and Russian Party Scandal
Until recently, the Rendez-Vous boutique thrived on the smartest street in the achingly cool ski resort of Courchevel, selling chi-chi ski wear and shoes to affluent visitors. Directly above, the five-star Hotel Des Grandes Alpes enjoyed a bustling season, with guests paying up to £16,000 per night for suites that included butler service and direct access to the pistes.
A Curious Incident Unfolds
At the start of the year, something curious happened. On the evening of January 27, a fire erupted in the hotel and raged through the night, making headlines globally. The blaze was particularly shocking, occurring just a month after a tragic incident at a bar in the Swiss ski resort of Crans Montana, where 41 people lost their lives.
Fortunately, all occupants in Courchevel were safely evacuated. The site is now barricaded, with its charred penthouse exposed to the elements and the boutique closed. Authorities have labelled the fire 'an accident', but questions linger.
Russian VIPs Spark Outcry
The fire at Hotel Des Grandes Alpes was not Courchevel's first headline that month. Less than a week earlier, an outcry erupted in Moscow after Instagram footage surfaced showing top Russian models, celebrities, and influencers jetting in for four days of cocktail and caviar-fuelled partying.
VIPs, including TV presenter Ksenia Sobchak—daughter of President Putin's mentor, Anatoly Sobchak, and dubbed 'Russia's Paris Hilton'—were seen enjoying £5,000 jeroboams of champagne while a red carpet was rolled out across the snow. Social media feeds captured every tray of oysters and every Botox-enhanced pout, with one starlet posing astride a horse in a fur coat.
Vladimir Putin loyalists denounced the tasteless display while their country remained at war. Moscow hardliner Vitaly Milonov called it 'an orgy of Ukrainian piglets', slamming the VIPs as 'gold diggers'. Another politician, Amir Khamitov, deplored the 'disregard for our soldiers'. A viral rebuke from a soldier in a bunker asked: 'While we are here spilling blood for the motherland, we see that personalities like Sobchak are holding parties in Courchevel. Are you not ashamed?'
Suspicious Coincidences Emerge
The host of this ill-judged display was the Rendez-Vous boutique, located under the same hotel. Though little-known in Western Europe, Rendez-Vous is a big name in Russia and had been celebrating its 25th anniversary in style. It quickly became the target of a 'patriotic' boycott.
In a stroke of bad luck, just days after upsetting the Kremlin, the boutique was closed by a raging fire. The coincidences deepen: the Grandes Alpes hotel, which caught fire, is the only hotel in Courchevel owned by Ukrainians.
While some pro-Russian trolls gleefully described the fire as 'karma', neither French media nor local authorities have pointed to a connection. A spokesman for the Courchevel tourist office insists, 'It's just a coincidence.' The head of the local hoteliers' association claims it was 'just a chimney fire', urging observers to move along.
Courchevel's Evolution and Clientele
This year marks Courchevel's 80th anniversary, a milestone for a resort purpose-built for skiing. It expanded from post-war huts to a beloved destination for French and British skiers. After the fall of the Soviet Empire, a new gazillionaire clientele arrived, though many vanished following Russia's invasion of Ukraine.
The recent inferno raises an intriguing question: are the Russians back in Courchevel, or did they never truly leave? Locals recall the 1990s, when former Chelsea boss Roman Abramovich booked a New Year's Eve party at Chalet des Pierres, making a £40,000 downpayment before telling the owner to keep the cash—she then sold the reservation to another oligarch.
In those days, menus were in English, French, and Russian. The Russians even coined 'Courchevelski', a form of partying where diners danced around or on tables in restaurants, avoiding paparazzi. This trend caught on, with mountain restaurants following suit.
Old family-run three-star hotels sold to corporate investors, and local shops gave way to big names like Hermes and Fendi, driving prices skyward. Then, seismic events intervened: Covid-19 in 2020 and Russia's invasion of Ukraine in 2022. As sanctions hit, Russian money seemed to vanish, and menus reverted to French and English.
The Resilience of Luxury
Reports suggested Courchevel's good times were over, but they were not. New super-rich visitors from the Gulf, Asia, and Brazil filled gaps, while Russian regulars rebranded as Bulgarian, Israeli, or 'from Dubai', according to a veteran staffer.
The 'Courchevelski' legacy remains alive. On a sunny afternoon, the Cap Horn terrace parties with dance anthems at 3pm, where pizzas start at £40 and caviar costs £200 a dollop. By teatime, apres-ski rocks at Baies, with bouncers charging £140 for entry to hear a 'famous' DJ, plus drinks starting at £10 for water.
At night, La Mangeoire—the original 'Courchevelski' restaurant—operates as a speakeasy with no sign, just heavies at the door. Dimly lit, it requires advance booking (with a £140 penalty for no-shows) and features a wine list from £100 to £6,000. A steak Rossini costs £70, plus £15 for chips. Cabaret singers and fire-eating routines entertain guests, with dancers in Russian military hats leading table dancing.
Demographics and Perceptions
Despite the focus on Russians, the biggest foreign nationality in Courchevel has always been the British. Even at their peak in 2019, Russians made up only 6% of visitors, trailing behind the French and UK.
Claude Pinturault, president of the hoteliers' association, laughs at the media's fixation with Russians. 'Yes, you have Russian billionaires here but you have even more British and French billionaires,' he says, noting that Russia's presence is now matched by the Middle East. However, he points out a key difference: most Saudi and Gulf visitors don't drink, whereas Russians do. On Orthodox Christmas Day, the Cap Horn was packed with Russians, taking £400,000 in a single lunch sitting.
Patrick Lepeudry, owner of several ski and clothes shops, observes: 'The English like good value, the Brazilians want colour and the Russians want whatever is most expensive.' Veteran ski guide Jean Louis Perales adds that his clients include Saudi and Qatari royalty, the late Formula One boss Eddie Jordan, and growing numbers from Asia, particularly India. He remains fond of Russian clients, noting many left post-Ukraine but have returned, now identifying as from Monaco, Switzerland, or Britain.
The main lesson from the Rendez-Vous party is clear: even in the most exclusive spot in the Alps, Big Brother is watching, and discretion is paramount.
