Small Hotels

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There’s a small hotel, By a Wishing Well, I wish that we were there, together… (from a popular song of 1936)

If a hotel is tiny, but comfortable, and if it has good food, then, for me, “small is beautiful”. I suppose I would be talking about 50 rooms or less. Mary and I have been fortunate to stay in a few of them around the world. One I particularly remember from many years ago is Le Residence du Bois, just a few metres from the Arc de Triomphe in Paris in a leafy elegant area of fine period houses. Even the “ladies of the night” who stood on nearby corners of the beautiful tree-lined boulevards, waiting for top-of-the-range Citroens, Bentleys and Rolls-Royces to pick them up were elegant in furs and long silk jackets.

Residence du Bois, Paris

The “Residence” is still there (doubles from €124.00 per night), rooms now up-dated from the genteel Edwardian style of our 1970s sojourn. Breakfast was provided in your room because there was no dining room. We asked the concierge whether a light evening meal was possible. “I will arrange something”, she replied. At 8.00 p.m. she called us down to a perfectly set table for two in a small alcove, spread with a captivating selection of cold meats and salads, with a chilled Chablis to accompany.

I recall a moment of worry when I went to settle our account and was informed that no credit cards were accepted. At that time there were no ATMs and all I could offer was a cheque on my English bank. “Pas de problème, monsieur”, the manageress replied, so I wrote one in French Francs, which she accepted. It was met some weeks later. No problem, indeed, but I doubt if this would be possible today.

In Brussels we used to book into a very good restaurant with rooms – just a few of them up some very steep stairs which weren’t easy to negotiate after a large and well lubricated dinner. My sister-in-law, who lives in Belgium, used to make the reservations for us. On one occasion our preferred place was full, so she faxed us that she had found us a room in a small hotel very near the City centre. We found it easily enough, parked nearby and took note of a splendid coffee shop nest door. However, the corridors and rooms were grubby and malodorous, but it was too late in the day to make a change, so after taking dinner at a fish restaurant, we took to our bed.

We were awoken by regular sounds in the passage ways and in the bedrooms above and around. It wasn’t too long before we realised that we had landed up in a place used by prostitutes and their clients. All night. One encounter in the room directly above was so prolonged and rising levels of grunts, groans and shrieks, that at its conclusion we could only clap. In the morning we cancelled the remaining nights’ reservation and moved uptown to the Hilton. The desk clearly understood.

Just lately we have ventured northwards for a couple of short stays in small hotels in England. These  establishments are of the utmost probity, of course, and good places to eat, with a comfortable accommodation providing a peaceful night: they are the Castle Hotel, Lincoln and the Waltons, Nottingham. Reviews of them will appear shortly – it is always useful to have a recommendation for a good watering hole and comfortable bed.

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