Stowe Mountain Lodge

It's the little things that annoy at the supposedly swank Stowe Mountain Lodge. The fact that, inevitably, the key card to your room only works on the third swipe. That downloading a photograph over the Wi-Fi will takes a hair-pulling hour, and the idea of downloading a movie is just laughable. That the maids miss rooms, picking up a car from valet parking can take 25 minutes, the towels are frayed and half the classes at the gym seem to be cancelled each day. And don't get me started on the food: overpriced, weirdly conceived (why put fried mozzarella sticks as "dunkers" in a perfectly fine tomato bisque) and, like the valet parking takes its own sweet time to arrive at the table.

All this in a place that should be a hole-in-one. The Lodge has an ideal location right behind the ski lifts; you can get from your rooms to the top of the mountain in about 15 minutes flat (and Mount Mansfield, the tallest mountain in the state, is a wonder to schuss). The design of the lodge itself is handsome to a fault, its public areas scattered with cushy, fine leather arm chairs set before massive stone fireplaces in open areas lit by floor–to–ceilng windows. Guestrooms are as grand, with 12-foot ceilings, solid and elegant alpine-esque furnishings )done in the colors of the forest), and marble-clad bathrooms. For fitness buffs, the gym and spa can't be beat: they're spacious, and well-equipped with an abundance of both free weights and machines. And kids love the place, thanks to the game room and a heated indoor-outdoor pool that's usable even when it's snowing. The staff, though frequently confused and disorganized, seem to have been chosen for their good natures. Even when they're losing your luggage, they'll do it with the warmest of smiles.