Hotel Trepaner, St Raphael, French Riviera: I have read all ten reviews on this site. The overall rating (given by five of the ten reviewers) is ‘terrible’. ‘Disastreux!’ says Kimi. ‘Affreux!’ moans M Lanie. ‘A frightful hotel run by a slum landlord,’ claims Juliet45. After staying at the Hotel Trepaner for a week at the beginning of August, my opinion is that the majority of these reviews are snobbish and unfair.
What, may I ask, were you people expecting for that price? A chocolate medallion on your pillow every night? It’s the cheapest hotel on the French Riviera, for goodness sake! Up the road in Nice, 60 quid a day in the first week in August wouldn’t get you a deckchair on the beach for the afternoon. And while we’re at it, let’s look for a moment at Nice’s bathing beach. Boulders. Like sunbathing in a quarry. Très chic, I’m sure. Whereas St Raphael’s beach — a mere spit from the handily placed Hotel Trepaner — is fine sand, ideal for building sandcastles. If you can find room for them, that is. At the beach at St Raphael during the first week in August, and with the tide coming in, there is, I admit, barely room enough to drop your trousers.
Seven of the ten reviews say that this hotel is sale (dirty). Curtains and towels particularly. Mine weren’t dirty. I didn’t have any. Who cares? With daily temperatures in the upper 90s, who needs the stifling encumbrance of curtains and fluffy towels? To be dripping wet after sea or shower were the most refreshing times of the day. No coathangers in the rooms is another of your fatuous complaints. Coathangers? Come on. A sliver of soap on the sink would have been a nice touch — I will admit that.
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