Hôtel- Des Cultivateurs

Don't go near the place. At least the sheets are clean, that being the only positive asset of this hotel. The abundantly stained, worn down carpet tiles give but a hint of their original texture and make you seriously wonder if their murky brown colour is really what the manufacturer ment it to be. Some room decoration would be welcome, if only to soften the impact of the baby blue and girly pink walls. The toilet seat, hinging on one point only so it fits over the bowl only by pure chance, has a plastic lining, filled with something best described as fluffy diaper filling. Taking a shower presents a bit of an ordeal. The plastic shower cabin shows signs of leakage, creatively repaired with red cellotape. Some mouldy spots begin to form in the interior. A grubby plastic curtain, which persistently tries to entangle ones legs, hangs now where a proper door used to be. The towels are clean, but dwarf sized. The pillows seem to be filled with the toilet seat stuffing, manifesting the strange wobbly sensation of resting your head on a poorly inflated party balloon. If that doesn't keep you from a good night's sleep, your neighbor's television set will, or the occasional silverfish slithering over the bedcover. Breakfast comes with tea or coffee and consists of a glass of peach juice, some baguette slices, butter and a pot of prune jam. Don't look for more, there isn't. You'll find yourself well isolated from the outside world, since there is no wifi available, the evacuation plan is of microscopic size and the emergency exit in the back of the building is locked by key at all times, thus minimizing the chances on escaping this nightmare.

Even a school canteen is better... To avoid absolutely , not worthy of Bourguignonne gastronomy....