'One of my fondest memories is of leaving' – The much-hyped Airelles Val d’Isère Mademoiselle fails to hit the spot

Entering into the spirit of things, I succumbed and let my ski butler help me squeeze into my ski boots. He had, after all, already brought a coffee with my helmet and gloves and placed my skis on the piste one storey above us, so refusing further assistance seemed churlish.

It was day two and I was settling into life at Val d’Isère’s hotly anticipated new hotel, the Mademoiselle. The latest addition to the elite portfolio of Les Airelles hotels, it promised all the flawless service and magnificent luxury of its eldest sibling, Les Airelles Courchevel, reputed to be the world’s most expensive hotel.

I clearly wasn’t yet acclimatised to the feudal social rules that accompany the Mademoiselle’s faux-medieval-castle-meets-Bavarian-hunting-lodge theme, for I collapsed in giggles at the bizarreness of communicating with my ski instructor through theatrical sign language. It’s not that he was hard of hearing – he was quarantined in a barren instructors’ waiting room next door, where I could gesticulate and mime my readiness to hit the slopes at him from my sumptuous ski lounge through a viewing window.

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Having selected my man, a little like picking out a favoured option from an Amsterdam window, we rode the lift together to pop out on to Mademoiselle’s sprawling terrace, already being set up for sun-drenched, champagne-fuelled lunches. Clipping on our skis to slide down to the Solaise bubble, I took greedy lungfuls of the crisp mountain air, expunging the lingering sulphurous scent of drains that pervaded my bedroom. The hotel’s dodgy plumbing, with its associated aromas and erratically cold or scalding water, was taking the 15th-century design theme rather too seriously for my liking…

It was shortly after my arrival, one month after her debut, that it became apparent that the Mademoiselle had exposed herself to the public prematurely. The Val rumour mill was rife with tales of construction woes delaying the build, Christmas guests being offered discounts to compensate for the hotel’s lack of readiness, and customers barely pausing long enough to admire the staff’s replica medieval Savoyard hunting costumes and bodices before hailing a chopper to flee to Courchevel.

One can forgive a new hotel its teething problems, and I could just about overlook the undecorated, invariably out-of-service lifts; the eerily silent and harshly-lit public areas awaiting their sound system and chandeliers; and the unfinished children’s swimming pool. That’s because I knew they would be, and largely have been, resolved. Doubtless my leniency was fuelled by the fact that I wasn’t picking up the €1,650 (£1,390) a night bill – for a spacious and supremely comfortable suite, but one affording views into neighbouring apartments, a car park and the communal rubbish bins.

What proved harder to forgive was the disappointing restaurant and poor service. Even my (genuinely medieval) local pub serves my main course after my starters, avoiding the awkward situation where our party, having feasted to bursting on archaic portions of sticky Angus short rib, hay-roasted lamb, piles of carrots and posh cauliflower cheese, was presented half an hour later with an array of entrees: charcuterie, game terrine, foie gras. The jury is still out on whether the foie gras goose or my husband felt more violated by the excess.

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Had our friendly waiter asked whether we still fancied our starters, we would have snapped up the opportunity to navigate our way around the epic dessert buffet instead. For, together with outstanding breakfast buffets, this array of sweet treats by two-Michelin-star executive chef Hélène Darroze is a highlight of Mademoiselle’s otherwise lacklustre gastronomic offerings.

Ironically, one of my fondest memories of Mademoiselle is of leaving it. Having loaded up our luggage and daughter, we realised we’d left her milk bottle in the minibar fridge. Eyes wide in horror, the delightful doorman pelted up the stairs, his floppy pom-pom beret bobbing furiously. He returned triumphant ­– not only wielding the bottle but also a not-yet-missed bunny which was ever so gently returned to its grateful owner before he waved us off, his signature grin restored.

I can’t help but think that the well-meaning, if often misguided and confused, service results from the absence of that very particular breed of obsessively manicured, omniscient general manager usually resident at hotels of this calibre. Furthermore, few of the staff spoke good English and they all seemed programmed to overcomplicate matters. Straightforward requests for black tea with cold milk, for example, generated tea with hot milk, sliced lemon, honey, a herbal tea and even tea served with a flat white and a babycino.

Similarly, the lack of children’s menus reflects an indulgent philosophy that the little angels can request whatever their hearts desire. Which is great, except when you have a 20-month-old toddler desperate for a taste of home and the staff aren’t familiar with Google Translate’s suggestion of “doigts du poisson”. “What’s this?” Val d’Isère veterans ask. “A hotel in Val where you can’t order builder’s tea and fish fingers? Where do they think they are – Courchevel?”

That is the crux of Mademoiselle’s problem. Aspiring to be her older Alpine sibling yet lacking her grace, polish or authenticity, Mademoiselle is out of her depth and out of touch with her environment. When I mentioned to the hotel’s owner that it might be an idea to schedule room cleaning earlier than 4pm, just as you return from skiing looking forward to a bath, I was batted away with the assertion that guests don’t come here to ski.

For all the recent glamming up of Val d’Isère – Mademoiselle is its seventh five-star hotel – it remains a ski town at heart, and one of the world’s best. Luxury still plays second fiddle to being among the mountains. With its sombre medieval theme and the lack of mountain views (these are saved for the €2,000-plus per night suites and apartments), Mademoiselle lacks understanding for its setting, feeling distinctly incongruous with its prime piste-side location and larger Alpine surroundings.

Mademoiselle’s owners would have done well to look at the example of another new Val d’Isère property, Le Refuge de Solaise. Initially poised to open in December 2018, the Refuge’s launch was hampered by more than average ski resort construction restrictions dictated by its lofty location in the old Solaise cable car station. The controversial decision to delay the opening by a year proved expensive yet worthwhile: Le Refuge is a masterclass in contemporary Alpine design, embodying its high-altitude environment. Mountains are omnipresent, given pride of place in every bedroom, in showers and baths and the swimming pool. Guests love it and locals queue up for a night of more affordable luxury (double rooms start at €300, just over a third of Mademoiselle’s soft opening prices).

“Mademoiselle is reckless” states the hotel’s website, proudly. Wondering if this is another lost-in-translation moment, I check the French version to discover that “téméraire” reinforces the claim of being imprudent, rash and thoughtless. I wouldn’t agree.

Over-ambitious, overhyped and over-themed, yes. Going to grow into her über-luxe Les Airelles skin, probably. Mademoiselle’s owner tells me: “Come back in one, maybe two, winters and we will be the best hotel in the Alps.” Maybe…

Double rooms at Mademoiselle cost from £1,180 per night (airelles.com).