Bavaria has long attracted reclusive kings, skiers and, for 16-days each year, ardent beer lovers. Now, a spate of interesting refurbs has started to attract the attention of Germany's style-conscious city-dwellers, who are heading south-east in much the same way Brits are gravitating towards reinterpreted country inns.
Two non-skiers, my boyfriend and I boarded a train in Paris and arrived in Munich just six hours later. After an 80km drive south, we found Berge, a hotel converted from a 14th-century bakery in the village of Aschau im Chiemgau, just minutes from the cable cars of the Kampenwand mountain. The island palaces of Chiemsee lake are nearby and there are plenty of other ways for non-skiers to get out of the sauna and into the snow.
Berge was converted into 16 self-catering apartments by local furniture designer Nils Holger Moormann. The service is very hands-off: you let yourself in and make yourself at home. Our first-floor studio was all black and bleached wood and handcrafted furniture: exposed stonework, lime-washed walls, scuffed floorboards and a modern shower room – even the loo-roll holder was a patented design. The raised double bed was built into a panelled alcove, surrounded by wooden drawers and recessed storage (don't leave your gear lying around: crumpled clothes and travel detritus will spoil the effect).
On the spartan kitchen counter, we found a brown paper bag containing dried pasta, a tin of tomatoes, one dried chilli and one garlic clove, packaged in a perfect little white envelope. A bottle of wine and two glasses stood on placemats. It's simple, efficient, effective.
On our first afternoon, we hired snowshoes from the local sports shop, Steigenberger, and arranged a guided hike of the Prien valley. Our guide, Benedikt, kitted us out with equipment and we began a steady climb to a summit with panoramic views. Benedikt explained that Aschau is a well-kept secret in Bavaria. Traditionally, weekenders from Munich tend to head straight for the resort of Garmisch-Partenkirchen, which feeds Germany's highest mountain, Zugspitze. As a result, the paths were completely untrodden and, but for our voices and the steady crunch of our snowshoes, we walked in snow-muffled silence the entire afternoon. As well as pristine alpine paths, there are double-track, crosscountry ski trails that wind through forests and across gently undulating fields in the area. (Crosscountry sets can be hired for €12 a day from the village shop.)
There is a good supermarket in town, but if you don't fancy the faff of self-catering, there's a handful of candlelit and cavernous restaurants ready to dispel any stereotypes about stodgy Bavarian food. Our waitress at Zum Baumbach (zum-baumbach.de) provided translations for the numerous freshwater fish on offer: pike, perch, rainbow trout – all from nearby lake Chiemsee. In summer , you can cycle to the lake and buy your fish straight from the fisheries on the shore.
After two nights in Aschau, we drove 50km west to Tannerhof in Bayrischzell. This hotel has been in the same family for four generations and has recently undergone a major facelift by Munich-based architect Florian Nagler. A maternity hospital during the second world war, and a rehab centre for over-worked city dwellers in the 90s, Tannerhof is now a homely yet stylish "bio-hotel". The main building is a converted 18th-century farmhouse with two dining rooms (one for the liquid fasters, one for the rest of us), a spa and a modern, colourful communal area with an open fire, board games, a vintage Wurlitzer jukebox and a fleet of wooden tricycles. Kids are free to pedal up and down the wide glass corridor that links the old building with the new wing.
We were staying in Nagler's latest addition to the hotel, four three-storey wooden huts amid the pines behind the main building. The wood-panelled room was simple and colourful: the bed was covered in liquorice-striped Missoni blankets. From our top-floor window, we could see a field of llama and highland cattle, and a steady stream of tobogganers hurtling down a long, perfectly pitched slope.
We walked into the village, paid €2 to hire an old-fashioned wooden sledge and joined in the fun for a couple of hours before heading back to the hotel. To warm up, we slipped into the wood-fired sauna, lined with beautiful reclaimed 1940s tiles. The food that evening was healthy and fresh – kale-and-bean stew (minus the sausage), followed by Milchreis (rice pudding) with passionfruit. Guests can take part in daily exercise sessions, ranging from aquarobics to pilates and guided hikes, but you're equally welcome to just kick back in front of the fire with a glass of wine and a book. Stylish, affordable, child-friendly and organic, with skiing and sledging right on the doorstep, this hotel was a real find.
Our third and final stop was Das Kranzbach, once the country seat of exiled English aristocrat Mary Portman. Completed in 1915, the imposing building sits on a plateau near the village of Krün in the upper Elmau valley, and was built to align with the Zugspitze mountain. It is surrounded by 130,000 square metres of protected upland meadow – most of it threaded with crosscountry tracks.
The stern frontage and steep gabled roofs belie an opulent, playful interior completed in 2011 by award-winning designer Isle Crawford (studioilse.com). The founding editor of Elle Decoration, Crawford was the creative genius behind two of the UK's best modern coaching inns: The Olde Bell near Maidenhead and The Crown in Amersham.
The ground floor of the hotel is divided into distinct zones: red, blue and yellow. The comforting smells of woodsmoke and apple strudel waft through the red room, where a giant banqueting table is flanked by red windsor chairs. Sculptural paper lanterns dangle above a deep-seated velvet chesterfield in the yellow room, and giant Anglepoise lamps create pools of light in the moody, midnight-blue games room. The floors are swathed in vintage Berber rugs.
Though the communal areas are showy, I got the impression that Crawford had blown the budget by the time she reached the bedrooms, which feel slightly stuffy and dated. And the service is less personal: I was told off for attempting to play the vintage bar billiards table ("It's for decoration"). But luxury comes in the form of an immense open-air hot tub (try it in the snow). And the food is top notch. For breakfast, we chiselled chunks of alpine honeycomb straight from the frame. There were baskets full of freshly baked pretzels, hunks of buttery Bergekase (mountain cheese) and slices of crumbly cake.
All of which called for another workout. We spent the next two days cross-country skiing through alpine pastures (ski equipment is available free of charge for guests). At 1,200m, we found Elmauer Alm, a small hut with a fire and gingham tablecloths that served stews, schnitzels, rhubarb schorle (a non-alcoholic spritzer) and mulled wine.
More than once, we tumbled out of the tracks and landed face-down in the piles of fresh snow. When it comes to this part of the German Alps, snow will always be the big draw but this new breed of accommodation – from chic self-catering apartments, to a family-friendly, organic retreat or modern take on the stately country pile – helps up the ante for skiers and non-skiers alike.
• Accommodation provided by Berge (+49 8052 90 45 17, moormann-berge.de), self-catering chalets from €170 a night; Tannerhof (+49 8023 810, natur-hotel-tannerhof.de), hut rooms from €125 a night; and Das Kransbach (+49 8823 928 000, daskranzbach.de), doubles from €136. Travel was provided by Rail Europe (0844 848 4078, raileurope.co.uk), London to Munich from £139 return
