Aboard the train from Geneva to Zermatt, the conductor checked our tickets and mused, "Ah, you are going to winter time..." These were encouraging words since countless cynics back in Britain had warned me Switzerland had no snow. Still, after switching trains for the Glacier Express and beginning the slow climb to the resort, the chocolate-box view from the window was distinctly devoid of white powdery stuff. Even in Zermatt itself the streets were snow-free. But the sight of the skiwear-clad throng bode well.

Then it happened. A few minutes into the Gornergrat railway journey up to our hotel (the only route up since Zermatt is car-free) and the place was blanketed. We were met at the station - a tiny mountainside stop - by hotel porters in heavy black coats sitting astride snow mobiles. After a taxi, plane and three trains, this was something of a relief. Off we zoomed along a snow-covered twisty-turny path towards the hotel. All very James Bond. And the most glamorous entrance I've ever made, although I fear our hysterical laughter rather reduced the cool factor.

Never mind. Riffelalp is one of those glorious five-star hotels that manages to feel both expensive and welcoming. It's everything a snow lodge hideaway should be: cosy, comfortable and deeply luxurious. So proud is the hotel of its bird's nest location, that "2,220 metres" is emblazoned on everything from towels to slippers. And so it should be, Riffelalp looks right out at the Matterhorn. I could view it from my bed as I used the electric gadgetry to open the curtains the next morning.

And yes, the snow was still there. Now I'm no powder hound - my ski career is still very much in its infancy - but I couldn't wait to get out there. My instructor for the day was Yann, the hotel's own ski guide. He's used to more experienced charges but since I was in no position to ski from the hotel across the Italian border to Cervinia (one of the regular day trips on offer), he gamely agreed to more gentle slopes.

So it was back on to the train as we headed up the mountain. You can ski straight from the hotel but this being late in the season, the snow wasn't great on the lower slopes. I was surprised to find my ski legs quickly. Actually, I was surprised I could find them at all. Thankfully the first few runs chosen by Yann had lots of wide avenues. And since the season before I'd only skied in America, it was a pleasure to be in such a picture-perfect Alpine setting.

Lunch was on the terrace at Riffelalp, conveniently located at the end of our morning's run and with a stunning view of the Matterhorn. New-found friends who'd had a more testing morning on the black runs joined us for some wonderfully warming fare - spicy soup, baked potatoes with chilli and pizza, endearingly shaped just like the Matterhorn. All very pleasant.

I decided not to go back out on the slopes after lunch. You don't want to overdo it on the first day, do you? And since I'd got away with only a couple of falls I wanted to quit while I was ahead. Besides, the hotel's spa was beckoning. There was something undeniably gratifying about swimming gently in the pool while skiers whizzed past the window.

Since getting to Zermatt is quite a haul, we decided to forego the trains, planes and automobiles experience and break up the return with a civilised stop at Lake Geneva. And it doesn't get more civilised than The Beau-Rivage Palace at Lausanne. Once a favourite with the likes of Coco Chanel and the Duchess of Windsor, Lausanne's grandeur is well and truly faded (though its 13th-century architecture and copious chocolateries are still worth checking out). However, the Beau-Rivage, a belle époque vision right on the shores of Lake Geneva, still holds its own.

I was shown to my room by the resident manager, apologising profusely all the way that only small rooms were available. I did, however, detect a twinkle in his eye and it soon became apparent why. Room 115/116 turned out to be a vast suite decorated in over-the-top, Louis-the-something splendour. Frankly, I could have spent the rest of my life there. The bathroom alone was the size of my London flat, its focal point a huge bath with leather cushions so you can lay back and look at Lake Geneva as you bathe. This palatial suite was built for Emperor Hirohito in the 1970s and it's since been a home from home for many a celebrity, including Mel Gibson and Cindy Crawford.

Lausanne prides itself on its "microclimate" and on an afternoon in early spring it didn't disappoint; the weather was deliciously crisp and sunny. I reclined on my gargantuan (60m) roof terrace taking in the awesome view of the Lake and the French Alps beyond and fancying myself as an Agatha Christie character. In the hotel's gardens below, a bell hop hurried by, walking a dalmation on a long lead.

Agony as it was to tear myself away, I had a lunch engagement in the hotel's Café Beau-Rivage. Women of a certain age poured in clasping a Gucci bag in one hand and a lapdog in the other. Dogs are a welcome accessory here - Chanel's pooch is buried in the pet cemetery.

Post-ski aching limbs were starting to kick in so I headed down to the spa. It's so exclusive the sauna is "private" and you have to book an appointment. It accommodates two, by the way, so take a friend. I settled back to enjoy a much-needed massage. I may not be an ace skier but when it comes to après-ski, I'm a natural.

Way to go

Getting there: Swissair (0845 7581333) flies to Geneva from London Heathrow from £152.90 return, including taxes.

Where to stay: a double room in Riffelalp (tel: 41 27 966 05 55) costs from Sfr520 per night including half board and train from Zermatt to Riffelalp. At the Beau-Rivage Palace, double rooms cost from SFr440, suites from Sfr2,500 per night. Book directly through The Leading Hotels of the World (0800 181123).

Further information:
Zermatt tourist office. Time difference: GMT +1. Country code: 00 41. Flight time London to Geneva: 1hr 30mins. £1 = Sfr2.38.