Royalty has always been drawn to Lech, but this Austrian ski resort takes its grandeur lightly.

At 12 midnight, the bells of San Nicolás burst into glorious peals. It is the noon Angelus, when Roman Catholics say their Hail Marys, and it is a time of great joy for those of us whose prayers have been answered. A foot of snow has fallen overnight.

Lech, the grand duchess of ski resorts, looks sumptuous in her new white coat.

I haven’t been here for 30 years, but it has hardly changed one iota. It feels almost like a private town, discreetly run by powerful local families like the Kosts, the Schneiders, and the Moosbruggers.

And it is a town that works all year round. In fact, there are fiercely strict rules about buying property here. If you have it, you have to use it.

Actually, there is one thing that has changed. Lech is now connected not only to Zurs, Zug and Stuben, but also to St Christoph and St Anton, which means that the Arlberg region is the largest connected ski area in Austria.

It is rightly considered the birthplace of alpine skiing, where Hannes Schneider, born in Stuben in 1890, developed the ‘Arlberg’ technique, bending the knees and shifting the ‘zee’ weight, as instructors still teach to this day.

Lech wears his glamor lightly, his grandeur even more.

There are no Louis Vuitton or Gucci stores; no soulless self-service mountain restaurants selling heavy spag buns. And everyone we meet is courteous and friendly.

On a chairlift, it’s so cold we can barely talk, my ski partner Richard says, ‘It’s a bit cold, isn’t it?’ Which leads to a German stranger sitting with us commenting, “I love the way the Brits talk in flowers.”

Royalty has long been drawn to Lech, most notably Princess Diana, who brought her children here after her marriage collapsed, staying at the Schneider family’s Hotel Arlberg, where we called for a snooper and a couple. of elderflower liqueurs.

Princess Diana brought her sons William and Harry to Lech after their marriage collapsed

Our hotel, Severins, is about a mile from the city, but runs a regular shuttle service. From the outside it looks like an old time-worn mountain cabin, but it turns out to be a 21st-century cocoon of luxury that’s perfect for the jaded and weary.

There are just nine rooms, all with deep soaking tubs, Bluetooth speaker systems, Minotti furniture, and even roaring fireplaces. There is also a four-bedroom chalet next door with its own grand piano and private cinema.

Our flight to Innsbruck left London so early that by 2 pm we were already on the mountain, and among the last to leave. After knee surgery, my skiing is somewhat apologetic, but what a tonic it is to be back on the slopes after the Covid break.

Mark is staying at the Severins Hotel, upstairs, a “cocoon of 21st century luxury that’s perfect for the jaded and weary.”

That night, an overzealous guest, realizing the mixologist has disappeared, slips behind the bar and begins making his own White Lady cocktail. Yes, it’s me.

On another occasion, a guest manages to incinerate and then detonate his gas lighter. Yes, that’s me too. But nothing seems to faze the charming staff, who seem to have seen it all before.

On the second day, we meet up with Lukas, a handsome young guide, who introduces us to another of Lech’s great selling points: the White Ring, a nearly 15-mile marked-out ski circuit from Zurs to Lech, with unforgettable views and relatively easy runs for those with iffy knees.

Next, we stop for lunch at Kriegeralpe, which follows Lech’s pattern of wrapping alpine flair in modest demeanor: a cozy wooden chalet offering delicious goulash for less than £10 and where you’re treated like a guest in a five star restaurant .

There are just nine rooms at Severins, all with deep soaking tubs, Bluetooth speaker systems, Minotti furniture, and even roaring fireplaces.

Speaking of five-star restaurants, if you’re staying in Lech, you should definitely find your way to a small 17th-century farmhouse (original floors still intact) that’s tucked away in Zug.

This is where we are greeted by a German/Chinese culinary couple, Jakob Zeller and Ethel Hoon, at the Klosterle.

We’re fed negronis de sorba and spicy fermented gherkins and then shown around their pantry upstairs, which is stocked with locally made pickles, jams and hanging meats.

It’s like a snapshot of Little House On The Prairie. The tables are made of local spruce, the candles flicker. For us, it is not so much a refuge from the external storm as a refuge from life itself. And the food is excellent.

Thank God there are still places in the world like Lech. Wonderful for skiers and just as wonderful for those who are simply drawn year after year to the majesty of the mountains.