Peaks, Perfume & Papillons
In Pontresina, autumn wears a golden crown and history whispers its secrets through the radiant valley. I set out to discover for myself the wonders of the Grand Hotel Kronenhof. What follows is a weekend of alpine ritual, enchanting luxury, majestic nature and a bit of adventure on the side.
More than 175 years ago, a small hotel opened its doors in the picture postcard Pontresina, a small village in the heart of the Swiss Alps. Here you will find a place of magic and timeless elegance. Legend has it that, when it first opened, Mrs. Gredig, the wife of the owner, would sit by the window in the corner of her living room and judge. She would then signal down to the host the rate they should be charged. This humble hotel slowly evolved into the Grand Dame of the Engadin – what we now know as the Grand Hotel Kronenhof. Knowing this story, I check in to my room and see the list of complimentary experiences that are offered. Then and there, I vow to myself: I am doing them all. This would not be just a stay – it would be a complete immersion.
Outside on the terrace, the autumn colours are resplendent and the sun turns the gardens into a golden canvas. Pontresina in autumn is glorious and steeped in magic and the Kronenhof itself glows in response. Even the squirrels scampering about seem to revel in its splendour.
Fascinating Encounters, Velvet Retreat and Euphoric Rituals
First things first. The spa. I make my way to the 2,000 square metre spa, determined to try everything. Opening onto sweeping alpine views, you feel as if you are completely immersed in the valley. The pool gives the illusion of touching the mountains, already revealing the first dusting of snow on the peaks. Relaxing into the water, the jets are so precise and powerful that I find myself immediately letting go. I can’t help but sigh aloud. During a massage, squirrels dart past the full-length windows, breaking through my dreams with their play. Here, the beauty of nature and the decadence of the hotel merge into one. Joining water aerobics, I find myself beside an astrophysicist. She excels at every exercise and we find ourselves in a conversation that feels like the start of a TED talk. We laugh. It seems that the Kronenhof attracts guests as fascinating as the place itself.
The Grand Hotel Kronenhof Pontresina with 175 years of hospitality heritage began as the humble Gasthaus Rössli and evolved into today’s iconic landmark, proudly standing in the heart of Pontresina.
Location
Nestled at an altitude of 1,805 m in a sheltered valley just 10 minutes from St. Moritz, Pontresina is a historic mountaineering village at the foot of the Bernina Massif, home to the Eastern Alps’ highest peak. Its mix of alpine adventure, serene nature and Belle Époque charm makes it a uniquely captivating destination.
Later, hunger calls. I change and drift into a room of deep blue and red velvets – utterly irresistible. I order afternoon tea: delicate pastries, savoury sandwiches and a view of the chandeliered crown room (Krone means crown in German). Some guests read newspapers and relax and I wonder if I am the only one who has decided to stay here all day? A waiter notices my delight and charmingly offers a magic trick – transforming burning paper into a beautiful flower.
Wearing a red papillion (bow tie) as tradition holds, he is mixing cocktails inspired by the colours of the rooms and the moods of his guest, paying attention to every desire and detail. After 6 p.m., the papillion transitions to darker evening colours and I realise that I am late.
My friend, the scientist, has invited me to a 6 p.m. ritual in the sauna. I am a bit sceptical and picture chanting and prepare to be bored. How wrong I am. The sauna resembles a wooden hut and I enter. In a tray lie three shiny balls – ice, I guess, and I touch one to see. Then my friend enters – no longer a water aerobics partner but a spa priestess. She smashes one of the ice balls and places it on the hot stones. Tssssss, it hisses.
A whiff of lavender whirls through the air. Suddenly, Lenny Kravitz blasts from hidden speakers. She grabs a fan and begins an exotic dance, wafting hot scented air toward each of us, one by one. The temperature rises until it is almost unbearable and the music shifts to hard rock. The herbal steam thickens. We laugh, we dance, we sweat and surrender our bodies to the rhythm of the music and the fragrances of the steam. There is a collective sigh of awe and we leave, drenched and euphoric.
In 2004, the heritage-protected property was bought by the Niarchos familiy. Since then, careful restoration and investment have returned the Grand Hotel to its former splendour.
A River, A Transformation, A Memory
Evening means flickering candlelight, gentle piano music and the grandeur of the ballroom. Here, autumn is not just the in-between season, but a time to showcase the purest expression of alpine luxury. The hotel itself reflects the magnificence of its own history. Built 175 years ago in the Belle Epoch style, it still carries the aura of an opera house – the kind of rarefied elegance you might expect in Paris, not perched amid alpine peaks. After the Niarchos acquired the hotel in 2004, it has been lovingly renovated – preserving its soul while updating its flair. However, the ballroom-turned-restaurant remains its majestic heart and I marvel in its glory before heading to my room for the night.
The next morning, after the best sleep I have had in months (thanks to my downy bed), I wander down to breakfast where I indulge in Eggs Benedict Royale. The Italian waiters there already know my name. They see that I am taking photos and order that my my eggs be replaced when they grow cold. That is what I call hospitality.
Before leaving, I choose one last experience: a walk to the Flaz river, which flows through the Engadin valley and is famed for its icy, glacial waters – often used in Kneipp-inspired hydrotherapy rituals. It is a beautiful stream to stroll along, framed by alpine scenery and grazing goats. Our guide brings hot tea and a towel just in case we are brave enough to dip our toes. I think I am and give it a try… but the icy shock steals my breath and I scramble out, laughing. He pulls out another surprise: a soft crumbly wax peel for our legs. Made of completely natural ingredients, it washes away in the river and leaves my toes feeling light, soft and delightfully perfumed. I feel like a newborn baby.
‘In winter,’ the guide tells us, ‘we cut a hole in the lake ice and jump in.’ No guest has failed to do it in twenty years, not even the anxious ones. ‘It’s all in the head,’ he explains gently. ‘I help them breath, relax, hold their hands and give them my body heat. They all go in – and go home with a new experience.' And so do I.
The marvellous smoking room.
Words Beatrice Lessi
Images Robert Dall’Alba
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