Side by side The Lanesborough vs L’Apogée Courchevel

The case for The Lanesborough is the people, not the building, though the building does its part too. A concierge lent his own tie, several fresh off their own hangers, to a guest short one for a business meeting. Butlers introduce themselves in person on arrival and remember thermostat settings from the last stay. Long-time London visitors consistently rank the service above Claridge's, the Dorchester and the Mandarin Oriental Hyde Park, and it holds whether the trip is a wedding weekend, a family holiday, or a quiet two-nighter. The Alberto Pinto interiors are maximalist Regency, not restraint, and that will split a room, but the soundproofing over what is one of the loudest junctions in London gets remarked on so often it's become a running joke among guests. Only 93 rooms means it feels like a house, not a hotel.

Price the flaws in before booking. The Bridgerton afternoon tea has become genuinely divisive: some travellers call it the best themed tea in the city, others describe dry sandwiches, thin theming and cakes that don't match the marketing at close to £400 for three. Go for the room and the pianist, not for food that lives up to the name. There's no pool, which puts the Berkeley, Corinthia and Mandarin Oriental ahead on that single point. Junior suites can still have one sink despite room for two, and there's no configuration built for two kids plus two parents, so bigger families should check specifics first.

None of that changes why people come back. The Little Butler Bootcamp and the resident cat, Lilibet, make this a genuinely strong family hotel, not just a handsome one. Book it for the staff and the quiet, and expect the tea to be a coin flip.

A junior suite here runs $3-4k a night, and what you get for it is a ski-in/out position tucked around the corner from Jardin Alpin where almost nobody but other guests passes your window. People who've stayed say the staff learn your name by day two: boots off, wine poured, dinner booked, no request refused. One couple travelling with a travel advisor got a sold-out room anyway and half-board thrown in, which covered nightly dinners at Beefbar without ever repeating a dish.

The 70m² suites are the other half of the case: two full bathrooms, two closets (one just for ski gear), plush carpet that works with the wood-and-fur design rather than against it. Breakfast is the one place the operation slips: eggs and coffee made to order instead of ready at the buffet, which is a problem if you want to be on the slopes early (room service breakfast solves it). Giovanni, the in-house Italian, is more serious: one diner paid 560 euros for a steak cooked wrong and a Margherita buried in American-style cheese, even with the service at the table staying warm throughout. The lunch menu is also priced like it's daring you to complain (a burger for 65 euros came up more than once).

Book it for the ski-out and the room, not the Italian restaurant, and go in expecting to pay full freight for lunch. If you're deciding between this and Méribel's quieter, cheaper scene, people who've done both say Courchevel wins on food, spa and polish; Méribel wins on value and low-key. For a week built around skiing in and being looked after without asking twice, this is the one to book.