Who doesn’t like playing hide and seek? I do. Especially when it involves a decadent hotel, so tucked away in one of the loveliest and most admired squares in Paris that I must have walked straight past it on numerous previous visits. I couldn’t get over how satisfying it was to turn left on Place des Vosges, duck through an archway that has eluded me for years and enter the perfect, spacious, hidden courtyard before Le Pavillon de la Reine, a grand and ivy-clad patrician mansion.
Pavillon de la Reine is so called because it was built in 1605 by Henry IV. It’s on one of the loveliest (and oldest) planned squares in Paris, and backs on to the very gorgeous Hotel Carnevalet. I know it’s mean-spirited but the smaller matter of a fairly constant trickle of daring tourists gawping and taking photos was an irritant that did break into my fantasy reverie.
Walking into Pavillon de la Reine is like entering a Goya painting – there are luscious orange damask wall coverings, deep velvet sofas, real pictures in ornate frames and vivid flower displays. I was immediately at home – or rather, a fantasy version of home. It is gratifyingly luxurious, but with no doorman and reception a discreet desk tucked well away by the stairs, it’s that even more alluring thing: stealth luxe.
I could scribble a few Madame de Sevigny bon mots (reputedly, she was a frequent visitor here, along with her friends La Fontaine, Racine and Molière).
Better still, my room turned out to be an elegant writer’s garret in the eaves, reworked with great style. There were orange velvet armchairs mixed with antique armoires to create a sophisticated eyrie where I could scribble a few Madame de Sevigny bon mots (reputedly, she was a frequent visitor here, along with her friends La Fontaine, Racine and Molière). My bathroom was small, not ostentatious yet immaculate.
Continuing the Pavillon de la Reine’s theme of hidden, indulgent spaces, I dined later in the inner sanctum of the secluded, chic Le Camélia (allegedly a favourite of Carole Bouquet) where guests are enveloped, petal-like, within the Mandarin Oriental to feast on Thierry Marx’s sublime spelt risotto with ribbons of squid and lemon sauce. Pavillion de la Reine doesn’t have its own restaurant, with its location, it doesn’t need it and I didn’t miss it. The next night, rather naughtily, after spending excessively on clothes in the Marais, I bought a takeaway of irresistible piping hot falafel from L’As du Fallafel, on Rue des Rosiers, to devour in my room, an experience made decadent with a good glass of Burgundy.
Breakfast – including tiny, properly flaky croissants – is served either in the courtyard, which appears to get more than its fair share of sun, or in the somewhat rakish living room, surrounded by bookcases stuffed with art tomes. I did neither. Instead I sloped off to Du Pain et des Idées in 10th, a favourite from a previous private food tour with Alain Ducasse. During the day and evening the lounge at Pavillon de la Reine morphs into a well-stocked honesty bar. There’s a new, pristine, all white spa by Carita (creators of Brigitte Bardot’s iconic hairstyle) spa with a steam room and gym.
The staff know their neighbourhood intimately – English GM Tim Goodard, who has lived in Paris for 18 years, and his charming Assistant Manager recommended a quirky mother-and-daughter gem, L’Atelier dans la Boutique, selling its own one-off creations, and the serendipitously nearby restaurant Ma Bourgogne, which I was told – quite rightly – serves the definitive steak tartare. In fact, they suggest so many enticing shops and restaurants well off my usual radar that I am already planning a return visit to what I’m already thinking of as my own little pied à terre in Paris.
Pavillon de la Reine, 28 Place des Vosges, 75003 Paris, France
01 40 29 19 19; pavillon-de-la-reine.com