A smelly surprise, a stunning trip and some random thoughts on the hotel industry

For the moment at least, progress has ground to a halt at Nettie.

If you’ve ever taken on a renovation project yourself, you’ll know that you are at the mercy of your builder’s schedule.

This can work in your favour; a good builder will stay to finish a job, even when it throws up some unpleasant surprises, as happened on Nettie this week. 

Bad luck for his downstream clients, who will have to wait until the issue is resolved; disruptions to project schedules are an inevitable part of a builder's life.

In Nettie’s case, the rather stinky discovery lay beneath the kitchen floor, where as well as a connection to the mains drainage, we found a septic tank this week.

Oh là là!

It’s a particularly bizarre and inconvenient find.

The tank will need to be drained before it is removed, pushing back the schedule for taking up the courtyard so that electrics and pipework can be laid for first fixes.

Convenient though for our scheduled trip to the Cantal mountains; I won’t feel too guilty for sloping off hiking while there’s repointing to be done. The necessary work to remove the “fosse septique” will push back the final sandblasting of the exterior façade and this is essential prep for the final masonry work. 

The mountains of the Cantal region of France lie at the heart of the country and are one of the least populated areas of France. Surprising, considering their beauty, but they are quite inaccessible and at least four hours from the nearest large metropolis, Montpellier.

In spring and summer, the hills are cloaked in grass and wild flowers; perfect hiking and cycling territory. In winter, the rounded contours of the many extinct volcanoes are covered in snow, providing a dazzling moonscape of gentle slopes and craggy bluffs.  

These volcanoes were active only 6,000 years ago

Small ski resorts nestle in the hills here; you can downhill and cross-country ski, and indulge in the fabulously rich Auvergnate cuisine to replenish all those burnt off calories. Cantal cheese most closely resembles cheddar, and the cows that provide this rich and generous treat are everywhere, as is the sound of their tinkling bells as they graze among the meadows. 

We hiked from small hotel to petit auberge, covering around 15 miles per day over some challenging terrain. Arriving exhausted in early evening each day, we threw ourselves at the local cuisine with gusto, and revelled in the local hospitality; it’s low key, but the people are generous and warm.

A mix of locals and incomers run the hotels here, there are no chains, and I sense the industry is strained. This part of the Auvergne covers a large territory, and footfall isn’t great, especially in low season. 

One hotelier had even left a poignant note in our room, bemoaning the lack of clientele, and requesting that guests be generous when leaving reviews; he’d love to provide a more contemporary décor and swankier bathrooms, but funds won’t allow. They’d bought the place just before the crash of 2008, and the downturn, coupled with (unfair, according to him) competition from the likes of Airbnb mean that money for renovations is tight.

I was immediately sympathetic. To me, what’s most important in hospitality is a warm welcome, a clean room and a comfortable bed, not super-trendy fittings. Hotel prices haven’t moved that much in years, and certainly not in rural areas. The rooms are good value.

Simple and clean is all I need, with room for my devices :)

But it did get me thinking. Is Airbnb just providing more plentiful beds and depressing prices, or is there something more fundamental going on.

I got my answer a few nights later when an ill-advised swig from a local water fountain not marked as suitable for drinking left me slightly the worse for wear.

Hotel rooms, however well appointed, are not the ideal places to be ill. You can’t get up and use the bathroom, or put a light on and read or make a cup of tea without disturbing your partner. And I think we’ve come to expect more privacy and amenities than hotel rooms can provide, unless of course you can afford a suite.

In response to the perception that Airbnb does compete unfairly with hotels, and deprives the permanent rental market of accommodation, has provoked the French government into enacting regulations that limit and restrict the number of weeks per year that home owners can offer rooms for rent.

I fear though that this legislation will miss the mark. 

I suspect that the traditional hotel model has had its day, at least for the recreational traveller. Hotels were designed for a mass market for vacation travel that just doesn’t exist any more.

I think that we, as travellers, expect more from our overnight stops. 

More variety, more space, more privacy and more facilities. 

Even if Airbnb or Gites were stamped out overnight, I’m betting that people would turn to motorhomes and camper vans as an alternative rather than hotels.  

You can take your home comforts with you that way, and not hold your breath for extra pillows, glass tumblers instead of plastic cups that split when you take them out of the plastic wrap, and  rock up for the night where and when you choose.

I do have an idea for struggling hotels though. Rent two rooms for the price of one, ideally with an inter-connecting door, and furnish the second room as a kitchen-study-living room.

Because if you can’t beat them, I’m afraid you’ve got to join them.

Tune in next time to watch my repointing progress, and see me struggle with my new mortar nozzle!