TdF Files: How’s the serenity?

From a haunted Indre château to the peaceful garden setting in Languedoc-Roussillon, Anthony Tan discovers another extreme of the hotel system in France, where first in class means last in class.

I can't help but find the branding of hotels in France a touch duplicitous.

Particularly when it comes to those named 'Premi̬re Classe' or 'Formule 1' Рowned by the Louvre H̫tels and Accor hotel groups, respectively, and with regards to the former, I had the displeasure of sleeping at Tuesday night in Albi, before the start of the eleventh stage to Lavaur.

You see, both the Premi̬re Classe and Formule 1 hotels, despite their names that imply something superb, something without peer, something at the top of its class Рas opposed to "derni̬re classe", or last in class, something the French refer to as "merde" (shit) Рthey happen to sit at the bottom of both the Louvre H̫tels and Accor chains.

The Wikipedia entry for "Hôtel Première Classe" describe them as "an international chain of 'super low budget' or 'no frills' hotels. At Premiere Classe, the price may change according to the hotel and the period (usually around €35), but remains the same whether there are 1, 2 or 3 people in the same room."

And the Wiki entry for Hotel Formule 1 says pretty much the same thing – "super low budget" and "no frills" form part of the vernacular.

Only rooms can be even cheaper at a Formule 1 hotel, if you believe Wiki and are unlucky (or poor, or desperate) enough to stay there, because according to them, rooms can be rented for a smashingly low 29 Euros per night.

Then again, if you sardine three people into their scungiest 35-Euro-a-night-triple-bunk room, and don't asphyxiate you and your roomies before day breaks, it undercuts the cheapest Formule 1 by a gobsmacking 23.33 Euros!

Now that's what I call Première Classe Value!

I can just imagine the tagline by its advertising agency buffoons: "We cut all sorts of corners in order to cut our already low prices!" Or, "We will be beaten on everything else except price! Guaranteed – or your 23.33 Euros back!"

But as my travelling colleague and I discovered Tuesday evening in Albi, not all Première Classe hotels are cheap, even if they do resemble something between Alcatraz and the Bangkok Hilton.

Because upon check-in – if you can call it that, since by the time we arrived, reception wasn't open; just a touch screen where you entered your surname or a booking reference number – I was asked (forced?) to pay 69 Euros for my eight-foot-by-eight-foot abode that romantically overlooked the floodlit car-park out back and once inside, exuded the charm and tranquillity of a Chinese sweatshop.

The aura of serenity was augmented by way of an extremely considerate guest next door, who had his TV blaring full-bore till 2 a.m. So much so, that I could hear what program he was watching.

Do I have anything positive to say?

Well, the vending machines provided me with a three-course dinner – one can of apple juice, a packet of crisps, then one can of orange juice, in that order – only because the hotel restaurant that was advertised on its website wasn't yet operational (even though they had a menu card in my room).

Plus there's free hair on the floor, in the bathroom and in the bed; handy if you are going bald, which thankfully I'm not. And breakfast is only 4.80 Euros extra, although I didn't bother trying it out.

Encouragingly, on the homepage of its website, it states in capitals: "PREMIERE CLASSE IS RENOVATING ITS HOTELS IN FRANCE."

And not a moment too soon.

Follow Anthony on Twitter: @anthony_tan