Serene 2-Bedroom Cabin in Hjartdal with Stunning Views and Year-Round Outdoor Adventure Opportunities

Step outside on a February morning and the silence is the first thing that hits you. Not urban quiet—actual silence, the kind that rings in your ears. The snow-covered pines along Rudsgutua hold their shape like sculptures, the air at 842 meters above sea level is so cold and clean it almost stings, and the nearest marked cross-country trail is just a few hundred meters from the front door. This is life at this little 1965 cabin in Nord-Torpa, and it requires no apology for what it lacks. No running water. No electricity. Those aren't oversights—they're the whole point. This is a rare find in today's Synnfjellet cabin market: a genuinely off-grid retreat on a 1,840-square-meter plot in one of Oppland's most beloved highland cabin communities, priced at €53,100. For buyers who've grown tired of overbuilt holiday homes with underfloor heating and smart TVs, this 33-square-meter cabin cuts straight to the essential Norwegian hytte experience. It's compact, it's honest, and it works exactly as advertised. Inside, the layout is as straightforward as cabin life should be. The living room holds a sofa, a table, whatever you need—and anchored at one end, an open fireplace that you'll light within the first twenty minutes of arriving, every single visit. The gas stove and wood-burning oven in the kitchen make real cooking possible: a pot of kjøttsuppe simmering while sleet taps the window, or eggs in a pan after an early ski. The sleeping alcove off the kitchen is cozy in the truest sense—small enough that you feel the warmth quickly, quiet enough that sleep comes easily. Water gets brought in, which sounds more inconvenient than it actually is once you've done it twice. The outhouse is nearby and functional. What changed sig ... click here to read more

Step outside on a February morning and the ski tracks are right there — literally less than 50 meters from the front door. You clip in, push off, and within minutes you're gliding through silent spruce forest with nothing but the sound of your own breathing and the occasional crack of a branch under snow. That's the daily reality at Stangeråsvegen 96 in Hornnes, and it's the kind of thing you stop taking for granted only when you leave. This is a compact, honest cabin — 43 square meters of warm interior space sitting at 428 meters above sea level on a generous 988-square-meter plot in the established Stangeråsen cabin community. Built in 1980 and kept in good condition throughout, it comes fully furnished and ready to use from the first weekend you own it. Everything is included: sofas, beds, kitchen appliances, the gas stove, the fridge, white goods — the whole lot. Bring a bag, buy some groceries in Evje on the way, and you're in. The veranda wraps around three sides of the cabin, which matters more than it sounds. Morning coffee faces east into the forest. Afternoon sun swings around to the south. By evening you're still outside with a glass of something, watching the light drop behind the ridgeline. The lot gets sun for most of the day, which in a Norwegian mountain cabin context is genuinely valuable — not a marketing line. Inside, the layout is straightforward and sensible. Entrance, hallway, living room, kitchen, a toilet room, one bedroom, and a storage closet. The living room has enough space for a proper sofa arrangement and a dining table where four people can sit without elbowing each other. A staircase leads up to a loft — furnished with extra sleeping spots, good for kids or overflow guests, though not f ... click here to read more

The first thing you notice, stepping off the footpath and onto the veranda at Holtnebbet 8, is the silence. Not the dead silence of an empty room—something richer. Water moving just a few meters away. Wind through spruce. The occasional creak of timber warming in the morning sun. This is what 53,100 euros buys you: a direct line to one of the most underrated waterfront settings within striking distance of Oslo. Fjerdingby sits on the eastern fringe of Romerike, where the landscape flattens into a patchwork of inlets, pine ridges, and farmland that most Oslo residents drive past without a second look. That's their loss. The locals here know the Øyeren delta the way city people know their coffee order—intimately, habitually, and with a certain pride. Norway's largest inland delta by surface area sits just south, a protected nature reserve where white-tailed eagles circle above reed beds and pike drift through still water. Kayakers from the city make the trip out specifically for it. You'd simply walk there. The cabin itself dates to 1940 and sits right at the forest's edge, the plot dropping gently toward the water's edge across 1,526 square meters of natural garden that transitions without fuss into the lakeshore. There's no formal landscaping—just birch, heather, and the kind of ground cover that takes care of itself. It's honest land. The kind that rewards anyone who wants to plant a kitchen garden along the south-facing bank or simply leave it alone and let the elk wander through in autumn, which they do. Inside, the 30-square-meter footprint is compact and deliberate. Classic knotted-pine paneling on the walls and ceiling, timber floors worn to a soft patina—this is the aesthetic that Scandinavian interior designer ... click here to read more

Some mornings you wake up at Merkjisvegen 88 and the valley below is still wrapped in low mist, the farmsteads just visible through the kitchen window as you put the kettle on. The hills are quiet. There's a woodpecker somewhere in the birches. You've got nowhere to be. That's not nothing — that's the whole point. Tisleidalen is one of those Norwegian valleys that hasn't been over-promoted or over-developed. Locals know it. Repeat visitors guard it. The cabin at Rundehaugen sits above Bjørkestølen in a position that gives you a sweeping look across rolling agricultural land and scattered timber settlements, with the gentle ridge lines of the Valdres hills closing in on either side. The plot runs to nearly 3,000 square metres, which means real breathing room — space for kids to roam without a fence line cutting every ten metres, and enough garden to grow something if you feel like it. The cabin itself is 75 square metres of honest Norwegian timber construction. Solid wood floors underfoot, wood-panelled walls, a painted ceiling that keeps the interior bright even on grey October afternoons. A traditional fireplace insert anchors the living room and does exactly what you'd want on a cold Friday evening after you've been out on the trails since noon. The multi-paned windows are generous and positioned well — you're not staring at a wall or a car park, you're looking at the kind of landscape that people fly to Scandinavia specifically to see. The kitchen is functional and unpretentious — freestanding stove, extractor fan, fridge, dishwasher, solid wood cabinetry with profiled fronts that speak to the original 1990s build. A table by the window gets the morning light and doubles as the spot for planning the day's route ove ... click here to read more

The wood stove crackles to life around seven in the morning, and by the time the kettle's on, frost is still sitting on the south-facing terrace outside. That's the kind of morning Sveavegen 182 was made for. Perched at roughly 480 meters above sea level in the quiet forest community of Grua, this compact Norwegian cabin strips things back to what matters — fire, forest, fresh air, and the particular silence you only get when the nearest main road is several kilometers away. Grua sits in Lunner municipality, about an hour north of Oslo by train or car via the E16. It's close enough to the capital that weekend escapes are genuinely effortless, yet far enough removed that you'll rarely hear anything louder than woodpeckers and the occasional snowplow on a January evening. The cabin stands on Sveavegen, a quiet track that threads through the forested hillside. At 49 square meters, it doesn't pretend to be anything it isn't — this is a traditional Norwegian fritidsbolig, a leisure property in the truest sense, built for seasons outdoors rather than evenings scrolling inside. Step out from the south-facing terrace on a clear morning in March, and the light is extraordinary up here. The elevation does something to the quality of winter sun that you don't get in the valley. The terrace itself runs to about 29 square meters — enough room for a proper outdoor table, a couple of loungers, and whatever firewood you've stacked against the wall. There's a smaller west-facing porch too, about 5 square meters, which catches the late afternoon light beautifully. Inside, the layout is open and honest. The living room and kitchen share one space, which means five people cooking, eating, and talking at the same table — nobody's exiled t ... click here to read more

Early September in Budalen, and the birch trees have gone full gold overnight. You're standing at the kitchen window with a cup of coffee, watching a light mist lift off the valley below, and the only sound in the world is the wind moving through the grass on the turf roof above you. This is what you came for. Not a resort, not a hotel — a real Norwegian fjellhytte, tucked into the mountains of Trøndelag, where the air genuinely smells different and the silence has texture. Endal Setervei 545 sits on a quiet mountain road in Budalen, a small community in Sør-Trøndelag that most international buyers will never have heard of — which is precisely the point. The valley has stayed under the radar while places like Geilo and Hemsedal have turned into weekender circuits. Here, you get the same wild Norwegian landscape without the crowds, and a cabin price that reflects what the market actually looks like when it hasn't been discovered yet. The cabin itself dates from around 1955, extended at some point later, and it reads exactly as it should: wood-panelled walls, low eaves, a turf roof that was relaid in 1997 and sits green and thick over the structure like it grew there. At 40 square metres of interior living space, this is not a property for people who want extra rooms they never use. It's a property for people who understand that a compact cabin forces you to actually be outside — which, given what's outside, is the right call. Inside, the layout is clean and logical. An entrance hall, a living room with a fireplace, a kitchen with its own fireplace and room for a proper dining table, and two bedrooms fitted with bunk beds that sleep seven in total. High ceilings in both the kitchen and living room keep the space from fe ... click here to read more

The wood stove is already crackling when you step inside, the smell of pine drifting through an open window, and somewhere through the trees you can just catch the shimmer of the Hanevik shoreline. That's the kind of Saturday morning this cabin at Hanevikvegen 115 was built for. Sitting on a gentle hill above Ask in Askøy municipality — a 30-minute drive west of Bergen across the Askøy Bridge — this 42-square-metre retreat is the kind of place that doesn't announce itself. You park, walk a short path through the forest, and suddenly you're standing on a sun-drenched plot with no neighbors in your sightline and birch canopy overhead. The elevated position is key. The sun tracks across the site from morning through to the long Norwegian summer evenings, and when it finally goes down, the glow over the Hjeltefjord is genuinely something you'll want to sit and watch with a coffee going cold in your hand. The cabin itself is compact but well-considered. Originally constructed in 1946 and laid out as four smaller rooms, the current owner opened things up into a single flowing living space with direct access to the outdoor terrace — the right call. Large windows pull that forest light inside, and the stainless steel kitchen bench catches it in a way that makes the whole interior feel bigger than the footprint suggests. The wood-burning stove anchors the room, not just practically but atmospherically. On a grey October afternoon when the rain is coming in off the Vestland coast, it earns its place. The separate toilet room runs a composting biological system — standard and practical for Norwegian leisure properties of this type — and there's a dedicated storage room for boots, fishing gear, kayak paddles, and whatever else ac ... click here to read more

Step out onto the terrace on a Saturday morning in late August and you'll understand immediately. The Vesterbukta bay sits calm and silver below, the birch trees are just starting to turn at their tips, and the only sound is the occasional crack of a branch somewhere up on the ridge. Coffee in hand. No traffic. No noise. Just the particular stillness of inland Norway doing what it does best. Tvildalsveien 58 is a compact, practical cabin in the Tvildalen valley outside Hattfjelldal — a small municipality in Nordland county that most Norwegians know as prime wilderness territory, and that international buyers are only just beginning to discover. At 53,100 EUR, it's one of the most accessible entry points into genuine Norwegian cabin ownership you'll find anywhere above the Arctic Circle. The cabin itself was built in 1990 and sits in good condition on a freehold plot of 1,188 square meters. That word — freehold — matters enormously for international buyers. You own the land outright. No ground rent, no lease expiry, no renegotiations every thirty years. It's yours to do with as you like, whether that means adding a small sauna down by the tree line or simply leaving it exactly as it is. Inside, the 40 square meters work harder than you might expect. The entrance hall keeps the cold out properly, which anyone who's experienced a Nordland February will appreciate. The combined kitchen and living room is the social heart of the place — wide enough to hold a proper dining table and a couple of sofas, with a fireplace at one end and direct terrace access at the other. The fireplace isn't decorative. On October evenings, when the temperature drops fast and the first frost glazes the grass outside, it's what makes the cabin f ... click here to read more

Step off the covered terrace at Gjermundsvika 102 and you're standing at the edge of Lake Femund — one of Norway's largest and most untouched bodies of water — with nothing between you and the far shore but cold, clear air and the occasional call of a loon. The water is right there. Not "a short walk away." Not "close to." There. That immediacy is rare, and once you've had your morning coffee watching mist lift off the lake in early September, it's impossible to forget. This is a proper Norwegian cabin. Built in 1979, it hasn't been smoothed into something generic. The walls are paneled wood, the floors are lacquered timber, and a brick chimney anchors the living room where an open fireplace with an insert throws serious heat when the temperature drops. The ceiling beams are visible. The whole 49 square meters feels deliberate — compact enough to actually feel like a cabin, not a weekend apartment dressed in pine. The layout is open plan between the kitchen and living room, which is exactly right for a place like this. You want to be able to keep an eye on the water while someone else makes lunch on the propane-powered cooktop. The wood stove in the kitchen isn't a decorative nod to the past — it's functional, and it makes the space smell incredible on a cold morning. Power comes from a 12V solar panel system, which handles lighting without any drama. There's no running water or sewage infrastructure currently installed, though grid connection is a realistic option given the proximity of power lines nearby. This is cabin life as it was meant to be lived: stripped back, self-sufficient, and completely absorbing. Two bedrooms sleep the family or a group of friends comfortably. The covered entrance and terrace, totaling ... click here to read more

The first thing you notice when you step outside on a calm morning is the silence — not a dead silence, but a living one. Wind moving through the grass, a guillemot calling somewhere across the water, the soft knock of an aluminum hull against a wooden dock. That's the sound of Litlelindås 50 before the rest of the world wakes up. And it's yours. Sitting on a freehold plot of 581 square meters in Austrheim, on the Lindås peninsula of Hordaland, this cabin has been here since 1963 and it carries its years well. Sixty-one summers of sea swimming. Sixty-one autumns of fishing from a private dock. The bones of the place are solid, the feel is genuine, and you're only 58 meters from the water's edge. That's not a figure from a brochure — walk out the front, count fifty steps, and your feet are at the shoreline. Western Norway is not a destination people stumble into. You come here deliberately, because you know what you're looking for: open fjord water, trails that reward the effort, seafood so fresh it still smells of the ocean. Austrheim sits at the mouth of the Fensfjord, and the waters around Litlelindås are some of the best recreational fishing grounds in the region. Coalfish, mackerel, and sea trout run here from late spring through autumn. The dock is sturdily built — this isn't a seasonal pontoon that gets packed away in October — and an aluminum rowing boat is included in the sale, so you're on the water from day one. The cabin itself is compact at 30 square meters of interior living space, but it's the kind of compact that forces a certain honest simplicity. The living room, at 12.3 square meters, is the heart of it — wide windows face the greenery outside, and a wood-burning stove occupies the corner that matter ... click here to read more

Step outside on a July morning and the air carries that particular sharpness you only get this far north — a mix of salt, pine resin, and something you can't quite name. From the timber terrace at Langhågen 12, the sea is right there. Not in the distance. Right there. About a hundred metres down the slope, glittering through the birch trees on Kvaløya island in Sømna, one of Nordland's quieter coastal communities where nobody is in a hurry and the light in summer simply refuses to disappear. This is a real cabin — not a weekend renovation project, not a fixer-upper dressed up in listing photos. Built in 2004 and kept in genuinely good shape, it sits elevated on a natural plot of 2,462 square metres with the kind of uninterrupted views over the surrounding landscape and open water that take a moment to fully process the first time you see them. The main cabin runs to 71 square metres of usable interior space, and the layout makes every metre count. You walk in through a proper entrance hall — somewhere to shake off wet boots and hang up rain gear — and then the space opens into a combined living room and kitchen that feels considerably bigger than the numbers suggest. Large windows do most of the work here. They pull the outside in: sea, sky, the slow movement of clouds over the Helgeland coastline. Sit at the dining table on a grey November afternoon and the view alone makes a meal feel like an occasion. The kitchen has profiled cabinet fronts and a laminate worktop with a double sink, nothing extravagant, but functional and clean. The wood-burning stove anchors the living area — an insulated steel chimney, efficient heat, and the kind of crackling presence on dark evenings that no electric radiator will ever replicat ... click here to read more

Step outside on a September morning and the air hits you first — cold, clean, carrying the faint smell of pine resin and wet rock. The mountains across the valley are still in shadow. You pull on boots, pour coffee into a thermos, and within ten minutes you're on a trail that winds up toward Burufjellet, with nobody else in sight. This is Singsås. This is what owning a cabin here actually feels like. Sitting on Storburusjøveien in the Rødslykkja/Burusjøen area near Kotsøy, this three-bedroom Norwegian hytte is the real thing — no designer furniture, no lifestyle staging, just a well-kept traditional cabin on 1,492 square meters of privately owned land, fully furnished and ready to use from day one. At €57,500, it's one of the most accessibly priced genuine vacation home opportunities in Trøndelag, and for international buyers exploring Norway as a second home destination, that combination of price point, location, and move-in condition rarely comes together this cleanly. The cabin faces south. That matters enormously in Norway. From late spring through early autumn, sunlight tracks across the terrace for most of the day, and the 28-square-meter partially covered outdoor space — generous for a cabin this size — becomes the true living room. Mornings out there with a book. Afternoons watching the light shift across the forested ridgeline. Late evenings in summer when it barely gets dark and the air smells of warm timber. The terrace wraps the experience of being in the Norwegian highlands into something you can step outside and inhabit, not just look at from a window. Inside, the bones are classic: exposed wooden walls, proper ceiling height that keeps the rooms from feeling cramped, and large windows that pull the land ... click here to read more

Picture yourself sitting on a small timber terrace at seven in the evening, a cup of coffee going cold in your hand because you keep getting distracted by the light. That particular Norwegian summer light — low and golden and doing something extraordinary to the water stretching out below Breivikvegen. This is Rong. And once you've had an evening like that here, the question stops being whether to buy, and starts being how soon you can make it happen. Rong sits on Radøy island in the Vestland region, roughly 45 minutes northwest of Bergen along the E39 and then across the Osterøy bridge network. It's close enough to Norway's second city to feel connected, far enough removed to feel genuinely apart from it. You arrive and the pace shifts. The road narrows. The spruce trees get taller. The fjord appears between houses without warning. That's the rhythm up here. This 1957-built cabin at Breivikvegen 228 sits on a gentle rise above its plot, looking out toward the sea. Thirty-two square metres inside — compact, but the Norwegians have always understood that a hytte is not about square footage. It's about the view from the window in the morning, the smell of a wood-burning stove on a cold October weekend, the way silence sounds different here than it does anywhere else. The living room, at just over ten square metres, holds a sofa corner and dining space around that wood stove. Pine floors, panel walls painted in pale muted tones. It feels genuinely old in the best sense — not tired, just honest about what it is. The kitchen has good work surfaces and is not yet connected to water or drainage, which is one of the main renovation items a new owner will tackle. The cabin runs off the public water supply via an outdoor tap, a ... click here to read more

Step off the hiking trail from the E6, push open the old wooden door, and suddenly the whole valley below Virakfjellet opens up in front of you. It hits you before you even get inside: the silence, the cold clean air off the surrounding peaks, the faint sweetness of cloudberries in the marsh that surrounds the cabin on three sides. This is the kind of place people spend years looking for. Built around 1925, this small mountain cabin sits at 330 meters above sea level on Virakfjellet, roughly 20 kilometers south of Narvik in Nordland county. Twelve square meters of interior space — one main room and a bislag entrance — that's it. No pretension, no extras. Just solid old-growth timber walls, a wood stove that'll have the room warm inside twenty minutes, and a view through the single window that most hotel rooms in Norway would charge a fortune for. The roof and exterior cladding were replaced in the late 1970s, so the structure is sound. What it needs now is someone who appreciates what it is: a century-old refuge in one of the least-visited mountain plateaus in Nordland, sold complete with every piece of furniture and equipment inside it. The cabin sleeps three and has done so comfortably for generations. There are no designated bedrooms — this isn't that kind of property. You pull out the sleeping arrangements, light the stove, and the place does what it's always done. It works. Water comes from a spring fed by a geological fault line on the slope above; locals will tell you it hasn't run dry in living memory, and there's no reason to doubt them. The woodshed out back is stocked heavily enough that you won't need to think about firewood for several winters. All of this comes with the purchase price. The 900-square-met ... click here to read more

Step outside just before midnight in late June and the sky is still pale gold above the treeline. The Tana River moves below you, wide and unhurried, and somewhere upstream a salmon breaks the surface. That's the first thing you notice about Borsjok — the silence isn't empty. It's full. This 1977 timber cabin sits on leased municipal land in Borsjok, roughly 100 kilometres south of Tanabru along the E6 highway, perched at the edge of one of Norway's most celebrated salmon rivers. The E6 is just 300 metres away, which sounds close on paper but feels completely irrelevant once you're here. The road disappears. What's left is spruce forest, river, and sky. At 37 square metres, the cabin is honest about what it is. A proper Norwegian timber structure — the kind that doesn't waste a centimetre — built for people who come to Finnmark to be outside, not inside. The Jøtul wood-burning stove anchors the interior. On a cold September morning when the birch leaves have turned and the first frost sits on the grass, that stove is everything. It heats the whole space quickly, and the smell of burning birchwood will follow you home long after the trip ends. The layout is practical and sensible. A separate bedroom fitted with three bunk beds sleeps a small group comfortably — a hunting party, a family with kids, two couples splitting the cost of a long weekend. The kitchen counter and two-burner gas stove are all you actually need when most of your meals involve something you caught that morning. The dining table seats five, and the living area has a sofa and two armchairs arranged around the stove. Nobody's roughing it, but nobody's pretending this is a spa hotel either. That honesty is exactly the point. Out front, a covered terra ... click here to read more

The first thing you notice on a summer morning at Lysgardslia 17 is the silence. Not dead silence — the kind with texture. Wind moving through the birch trees behind the plot, a woodpecker somewhere up the hill, and the distant glitter of Hurdal Lake visible through the tree line. You pour coffee and step out onto the south-facing terrace before anyone else in the cabin is awake. That right there is what this place is for. Set in the quiet forest hamlet of Erikstellet, about 6 kilometres north of Hurdal village, this compact two-bedroom cabin sits on a generous 1,135-square-metre plot where the garden simply dissolves into the surrounding spruce forest. The building dates to 1970 and has been kept in good condition over the decades — solid, honest, and full of personality. It's not a renovation project. It's a cabin that works, with room to add your own mark over time. Inside, the main living area is anchored by a wood-burning stove and an open fireplace — the kind of combination that makes January evenings feel like a reward rather than something to endure. An air-to-air heat pump handles the shoulder seasons, so the cabin stays comfortable from early March right through to late autumn. Large windows on the south-facing wall pull in light generously all day, and the open connection between the kitchen and living room means meals naturally become communal events, whether it's a family of four or a group of friends back from a day on skis. The kitchen is worth pausing on. The cabinet fronts are hand-painted with troll motifs — a detail straight out of Norwegian folk tradition — and while the laminate worktop and stainless steel sink are entirely functional, it's those painted doors that give the room its soul. There's ... click here to read more

Step outside on a February morning and the world is white and absolutely still. The birches are frosted solid, the air bites clean at the back of your throat, and a kilometer down the trail the first set of groomed ski tracks is already laid. Back inside, the wood stove is still throwing heat from the night before, and the smell of pine smoke drifts through every room. This is what a cabin in Etnedal actually feels like — not a brochure version of Norway, but the real thing. Stuvelivegen 270 sits at around 909 meters above sea level in Etnedal municipality, a quiet corner of Innlandet county that most international buyers haven't discovered yet. That's part of what makes it interesting. The valley runs roughly northwest from Dokka, the nearest town of any size, and the landscape here is high, open, and honest — rolling fells, dense spruce forest, frozen lakes in winter, wildflower meadows in July. The cabin sits at the very end of the road. No neighbors to glance at through the window. No through traffic. Just the creak of timber and, if you time it right, the distant percussion of a woodpecker working a dead trunk somewhere across the clearing. The cabin itself dates from 1948, which tells you something about its bones. Norwegian mountain cabins from that era were built to last, not to impress, and this one wears its age well. The roof is new, the windows are newer double-glazed units, and the exterior cladding has been replaced — so the envelope is tight and well-maintained. Inside, 60 square meters is efficiently used across three bedrooms, a proper living area, kitchen, and a cabin bath with shower and toilet. It's not a sprawling estate. It's a place designed for people who actually want to be outside most of the ... click here to read more

You wake up to silence so complete you can hear the snow settling on the pine branches outside. No traffic. No notifications. Just the tick of the wood-burning fireplace still throwing heat from last night, and through the vaulted windows, a sky going pink over Domfettjern. This is what mornings look like at 974 meters above sea level in Flå — and once you've had a few of them, ordinary weekends at home start feeling like a poor substitute. Sitting on Dagalivegen 47 in the Numedal highlands of Buskerud county, this two-bedroom cabin was built in 2005 and has been kept in genuinely good condition — not the kind of "good condition" that real estate listings use as a polite warning, but actually well looked after, with a kitchen that works, a terrace that invites you to linger, and a loft that teenagers immediately want to claim as their own. At 58 square meters of interior space plus a 24-square-meter wraparound terrace, it's compact without feeling cramped, the kind of place where a family of five fits comfortably and everyone ends up in the same room anyway because the living area is too good to leave. The open-plan kitchen and sitting room are the heart of the cabin. A vaulted ceiling draws the eye upward while four windows pull in the mountain light, and in the evenings the fireplace does what fireplaces at altitude do best — turns a cold night into something genuinely cozy. The kitchen itself has profiled cabinet fronts and a solid wood countertop, a gas stove, and an extractor fan that vents externally, all of which matters when you're cooking something hearty after a full day on skis. There's a sofa group big enough for the whole family, a proper dining area, and direct access through glass doors onto the terrace. ... click here to read more