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RELAIS HÔTEL du VIEUX PARIS
Rue Git Le Coeur is an unassuming street that butts into the Quai des Grands Augustins, in a corner of the Quartier Latin that edges into the 6th arrondissement. On that quiet street is an equally unassuming building that houses one of the most surprising and delightful hostelleries in all of Paris.
Entry Lobby
Courtesy Relais Hotel du Vieux Paris |
The Relais Hôtel du Vieux Paris is one of those places that is so intriguing that you want to keep returning. Not only is the recent history fascinating, but the owner and staff epitomize the concept of "elegant."
In the '50s, what has now become a four-star "hôtel de charme" was a utilitarian dump known as The Beat Hotel. Home for a time to some of the "heppest cats" on the face of the earth, the sleazy environment boasted forty tiny rooms, one "toilette Turque" and one shower.
The likes of Jack Kerouac, William Burroughs, Alan Ginsberg, Gregory Corso, and Brion Gysin hung out, got stoned, and wrote here.
Mme. Claude Odillard purchased the hotel in 1980, and immediately got to work.
During a visit to Paris, my daughter and I visited the hotel encouraged by Mme. Odillard's enthusiasm for the redesign that had recently taken place.
Breakfast Area
Courtesy Relais-Hotel
du Vieux Paris |
I wish I could capture the sound of our hostess' laugh. It was both gutsy and delicate, and very infectious.
She showed us around the hotel and beamed with pride at the little things she found so amusing. She delighted in the stone fascia of the breakfast area, dating from the 1400's. She had personally stripped the walls down to the beams; she personally chose the furniture and fittings. And what she has created is a marvel.
Instead of taking the 40 dark, tiny rooms and outfitting them with beds, she opened up walls and made larger rooms. Instead of creating head-bumpers out of the monsard top floor, she made "mezzanines" for the suites below, incorporating space-saving spiral staircases and slip-covered futon chairs which convert to beds should a family need the extra sleeping quarters. 
Rooftop View
Photo ©Zahava Jones |
Many of the units have windows on at least two sides, and most of the loft suites have pop-out rooftop windows with extraordinary views.
The staircase that graced the lobby has been replaced by a tiny elevator which barely fits two adults. Mme. Odillard, with her signature laugh, told us that her guests have dubbed it the "Love Machine," and it was easy to see why.
Mme. Odillard
©Zahava Jones |
She lovingly touched some of the ancient wooden beams in one of the rooms, relating her pride in her accomplishments; she excitedly told us about a 200-year-old bottle of wine they had found when tearing out one of the walls. Her enthusiasm was as infectious as her laugh.
Madame Odillard showed us many rooms in the hotel, all charming and lovingly decorated. Even the smallest of the rooms were wonderful, with their beams, tall windows, and gleaming bathrooms. The decor from room to room was different, but almost all boasted wall fabrics by the designer Pierre Frey.
There are a couple of smallish rooms with only a shower; most have full baths, and the suites have Jacuzzi® tubs.
Even in the midst of the thriving Latin Quarter, all the rooms were quiet, including those facing the street.
The Elegant Salon
Photo ©Zahava Jones |
Most of the staff has been with Mme. Odillard for years and years. She considers them family, and indeed, her daughter-in-law was the person who greeted us and showed us the "poetic history" of the hotel. As the Beat Poets returned to reminisce about their youth, they would sign the guest books; the signatures are quite valuable so the older books cannot remain on public display. They can, however, be viewed on request.
I LOVED meeting Mme. Odillard, but she and my daughter immediately bonded. We sat in the small, elegantly furnished salon sipping coffee, munching fresh croissants, and sharing stories. With each new story,  Mme. Odillard's laugh got gutsier and more infectious. Zavi especially loved the anecdote about Monsieur Odillard's first meal in New York, at the Stage Deli, whereby he was forced to eat a 17 pound corned-beef-on-rye sandwich with no silverware and without the "proper wine."
Because my daughter is an artist and designer, and because she and Mme. Odillard share a love of "fine things," their mutual interests created an immediate, generation-spanning friendship.
I think it will last a long, long time.
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