What better way to introduce the new travel section than to share my latest discovery? A gem of a hotel, shining bright like a diamond in the most convenient of quartiers, and a firm favourite on my richter scale of cool-hangs. Neatly sandwiched between the world-famous rues Montorgueuil and Montmartre, arguably two of the most pleasant streets to wander in Paris, this overnight option in the 2e arrondissement has everything—from premier patisseries to must-visit vintage stores— all within a ten-minute walking radius…
This was during my late teens and early twenties – a halcyon era when my whereabouts were not all conveniently (/obnoxiously) geotagged for future reference via a reality altering, filtered app.
Still, I had the city covered down to a T.
The best PMU—a “dive” brasserie filled with locals only—for mind-blowing French cuisine on the cheap (Aux Deux Amis); the cosiest terrace for people watching (Le Flore); the trendiest table in town (La Belle Epoque); the friendliest barman to mix that bespoke Cointreau cocktail for all the times red wine is not going to cut it #FriYAY! (Le Beef Club Ballroom); The coolest after-hour spot to chain smoke and not-go-dancing-because-we-are-French-and-too-cool-for-zat (Le Pompon)…The list goes on.
In fact, the only thing I could’t give a decent recommendation for back then was accommodation. Because like any ungrateful, self-loathing teen, I had no choice but to sleep at the home that my parents had so graciously provided.
Then I turned twenty-four, crossed the Channel, and my coolness index suffered a severe currency crash. Suddenly, I was trading on the tourist stock exchange, both in my newly adopted city (do you know how big it is on this side of the channel?), and back at home (do you know how expensive a Eurostar ticket is?). Not yet a legit Brit, no longer a proud Parisian… My own personal Eurozone crisis.
As I settled in, the boy I’d followed here faded out of the picture. But he was swiftly replaced by an ever-growing love for the British capital. Slowly but surely, I began to find my feet. London became my playground (and damn, do we know how to have fun here!). Suddenly, I started to worry that by learning the lay of the land a Londres, I would lose that je-ne-sais-quoi exclusively afforded to all Parisian passport holders.
So I established a rule for myself, by which I would try a new place each time I went home. And naturellement, having become the ultimate over-sharer (#sorrynotsorry), it would be rude not to spread the word. So here we are.
Enter le Bachaumont.
AMBIANCE: With its modernist graphic interiors in pale blue, black and white, featuring the odd gold trimming here and there, the Bachaumont offers a fresh take on Parisian chic. French designer Dorothee Meilichzon has created a space that is minimal without feeling stark or bare, with marble furniture and beautiful city views adding staying power to the Parisian-sized rooms. In fact, you will find it hard to leave the building, as the establishment has teamed up with the coolest names in the biz for its food and after-hour operations.
FOOD: Le trio infernal vous régale. It means: the gruesome threesome (Romée de Goriainoff, Pierre-Charles Cros and Olivier Bon, the dynamic bunch behind Experimental Cocktail Group, for the uninitiated), has struck again. Despite successful ventures overseas (Experimental Beach Ibiza; Joyeux Bordel in London) the famous frogs have come back to this side of the pond, with an à la carte menu focusing exclusively on jolly good French cuisine. Wear feast-friendly clothes, or book one of the 49 rooms, for you won’t be going anywhere after sitting down at their table. Try the horseradish-spiked dorade tartare, it’s delicious; Don’t believe me? Ask the dishes… They can sing, they can dance, after all Miss this is France…
AFTER-HOURS: And while the impeccable service makes it easy to imagine waiters Disney-waltzing behind the scenes while scrubbing your empty plate, there’s no time to go sneak a peek for the cocktail bar awaits! The hotel’s intimate watering hole lets you lounge in plush sofas, while a sexy mixologist conjures up your favourite drink using only your favourite ingredients (try Cointreau orange liqueur, muddled lime and club soda). Best part? You are but a cobblestone hobble away from one of Paris’ best clubs: Le Silencio—a gold-leafed maze of cavernous alcoves resonating with the beats of whichever underground DJ is #sohotrightnow. Yolo!
From 180 euro per night, check out: www.hotelbachaumont.com
Wearing: Cos dress, Celine Bag, Totême Scarf, H&M sandals.