In a city notorious for les petites chambres, surely this room was the smallest of them all. We’d only just landed in Paris after a long-delayed flight—and now here we were, cramped in a dormer room with slanting ceilings and a bed that kept hitting our shins as we attempted to maneuver around each other. Finally we collapsed—and slept—but upon awakening, we immediately went downstairs and spoke to the front desk. Either we move to another room—or we’re moving to another hotel.
Fortunately, the kind front desk manager showed us to another room, on a lower floor, where the ceilings were not slanted—and the just-renovated room done in shades of orange, saffron and pumpkin (rather than icy blue)—and where it was at least possible to pass around the bed without banging into it. In other words, this second room was at least six inches larger.
There was also the matter of excessive heating—in November. And an abundance of overly-styled and oversized furnishings, wildly out of proportion to the room’s intimate size. Lampshades the size of small cars, for example. Too much stuff for too little space.
As for the bathroom—well, let’s just say that even Tokyo (or Manhattan) has larger bathrooms. This one was closer to a closet. Strictly for one person at a time—no exceptions. The kind of shower door that swings open and blocks the toilet and renders the door unopenable. Lovely toiletries—and abundant—but there was hardly enough room to squeeze the tubes. This is the kind of bathroom that could, if you let it, put you in a negative frame of mind before you even left the room.
All this, combined with the heat, might well cause frustration to rear its ugly head.
Public Spaces
A stylish and calm lobby—if somewhat predictable. Comfortable sofas and small vases with flowers and larger ones holding flowering branches. A small bar serving overpriced American cocktails—alongside a small lounge with a huge plasma-screen television—tuned to soccer games. Two small computer desks in the lobby for checking one’s email. And, at the time of our stay, renovation of the far end of the lobby—for a future breakfast room that, to our mind, could be a most pleasing addition.
Breakfast
Perhaps the best part of our four-night stay—and this, even though the breakfast room was, at the time, subterranean (no longer, given the upstairs lobby’s completed renovation—and what was once the breakfast room is now the hotel’s spa). And also, in spite of the fact that the room was often overseen by an individual who could only be described as a kind of Teutonic warden.
And yet, even so, breakfast at the Bel-Ami was a decided highlight—for the food. Oh, the food. Those croissants, that butter. The bread. The jams. Everything offered that is often offered elsewhere—and yet never tastes quite as good as it does in Paris. A silver pitcher of coffee. Eggs if you want them. Pastries and cheeses. Enough to fortify you for what has suddenly become a glorious day ahead.
Staff
Helpful and bi-lingual, the staff is accustomed to dealing with non-French speaking guests (a fact which might be a very big positive for some, and less so for others). In fact, the hotel is filled with well-heeled Americans—and served by a concierge who procures reservations with ease.
Location
In the center of St. Germain-des-Pres, at the heart of what was once the home of le tout Paris. Arts and letters Paris. Culture and style. Louis Vuitton around the corner, as well as Café de Flore and Les Deux Magots and Brasserie Lipp. All locales well known to Americans familiar with the expatriate experience.
Alas, the neighborhood is also quite touristy—and a number of restaurants prey upon firstcomers to Paris. It’s a lovely neighborhood to wander—but then, aren’t most quartiers de Paris?
Overview
Given its location in one of the more desirable neighborhoods of Paris (at least for those who value comfort and ease and a kind of easy-on-the-eye experience), the Bel-Ami charges accordingly. You pay for the English-fluent staff and the lack of discomfort you might feel in a more French-populated establishment. You pay a lot for rooms that are too small. You pay for the calm that embraces you when you enter the well-appointed lobby with its shelter-magazine furnishings.
In short, the Bel-Ami is a pleasant enough hotel to return to after a day spent stalking the boutiques of the neighborhood—just be sure all those shopping bags will fit in your chambre.
LINK: Hotel Bel-Ami