1/5 Emanuel O. 5 months ago on Google
Upon
my
recent
sojourn
to
the
revered
Hôtel
de
Crillon
in
Paris,
an
establishment
long
hailed
for
its
decadence
and
prestigious
reputation,
I
encountered
an
amusing
array
of
service
experiences
which
demand
a
formal,
albeit
regal,
recounting.
As
I
meandered
through
the
hallowed
halls
of
this
grand
edifice,
a
fair-haired
young
gentleman
approached
me
with
a
spontaneity
befitting
a
Jane
Austen
novel.
He
generously
relieved
me
of
any
burdens
concerning
my
desire
to
extend
my
stay
until
the
Sabbath.
One
would
assume
this
to
be
an
auspicious
beginning
to
a
Parisian
tale.
Yet,
alas!
All
was
not
as
it
seemed.
As
Shakespeare
once
mused,
"All
that
glitters
is
not
gold."
The
key
to
my
chamber
demonstrated
a
rebellious
streak,
refusing
to
grant
us
entry.
In
the
midst
of
this
mild
fiasco,
a
certain
Monsieur
Alan,
rather
than
coming
to
our
aid,
took
it
upon
himself
to
berate
my
dearest
companion
with
the
ardour
of
Mr.
Darcy
defending
his
honour.
His
proclamation?
We
were
not
permitted
to
inhabit
our
lodgings
past
the
morning
bell
on
Saturday.
In
a
bid
to
resolve
this
conundrum,
I
sought
counsel
with
the
manager
on
duty,
the
ever-alert
Mr.
Alexander
Blanchard.
Offering
to
pay
not
once,
but
twice
the
demanded
sum,
in
a
bid
to
retain
my
quarters,
I
was
met
with
a
surprising
rebuff.
However,
hope
appeared
in
the
guise
of
a
potential
room
relocation.
Yet,
the
caveat?
An
exodus
was
mandated
before
10
on
the
morrow.
But
the
tale
takes
yet
another
turn.
The
selfsame
Mr.
Blanchard,
seemingly
afflicted
with
a
change
of
heart
or
perhaps
a
pang
of
conscience,
made
a
rather
boisterous
appearance
at
my
chamber
door.
With
proclamations
loud
enough
to
rival
the
town
crier,
he
asserted
that
I
might
retain
my
lodgings,
presenting
a
newfound
solution.
Indeed,
he
was
quite
vocal
in
ensuring
I
was
well
aware
of
this
benevolent
change
in
stance,
perhaps
cognisant
of
the
impending
review.
In
conclusion,
the
Hôtel
de
Crillon,
while
undeniably
resplendent,
presented
a
theatrical
series
of
events
worthy
of
the
West
End
stage.
One
could
hardly
imagine
the
need
for
such
dramatics
within
such
hallowed
walls.
In
the
immortal
words
of
Queen
Victoria,
"We
are
not
amused."
Yet,
we
remain
hopeful
that
future
visits
might
reflect
the
grandeur
and
impeccable
service
this
establishment
is
historically
known
to
proffer.
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