My £14 dessert in a £700-a-night hotel… welcome to the Côte d’Azur - The Times

Even though last summer was the most scorching in England since 1976 — which I am old enough to remember (the water supply on our Exmoor hill farm ran dry and it was too hot for clothes, so our two au pair girls wandered around naked at times; it was very Seventies) — I flew south to stretch it out further, with three luminous days in two of the finest hotels anywhere, nipping in before they went into hibernation.

I started my five-star sojourn at Les Roches Rouges in St Raphaël, in the south of France, with a night in the Riviera Suite of this modernist masterpiece, suspended on the red rocks between sea and sky. After that, during these stolen October days of balmy temperatures and sparkling sunshine, it was two nights at Hôtel du Cap-Eden-Roc, an hour or so along the Côte d’Azur by car — a hotel of dreams that we will come to in a moment.

Restive readers of envious disposition should probably stop here, as I am about to describe stays of near-perfect coastal chic.

When I was shown into my accommodation at Les Roches Rouges I thought that there must have been some mistake. Struck dumb by how stunning the suite was, and also how spacious, I heard myself saying: “Is… this… all mine?”

I could have lived there comfortably with the entire family and dog for weeks, with a sitting room and terraces and plunge pool, and rooms not just with a sea view but so close to the Med that you could feel the pull and tug of the surf, as though the waves were huffing their way into your bedroom. Shout-outs must go to the architect and design team who brought this hotel up to code in the most French, chic, refined and nautically masculine style imaginable, using a palette of blue and white (obviously, for the Côte d’Azur) softened with rope, sand and a rich egg-yolky yellow. Everything was focused on bringing the light, sea, air and esprit into every nook of the sun-soaked property.

Given the late summer heat, on arrival I grabbed a bikini to make the most of the sun, swim in the seawater pool and have a beer, all the while trying to conceal my white flesh from men with lean bronzed bodies in navy Vilebrequin trunks, reading Gallimard editions of the classics then cooling off in the sea. After a kobido facial with Gabrielle, dinner was in Estelo, the hotel’s most laid-back restaurant — almost toes-in-the-sand casual but with nothing careless about the food.

Estelo is spread over the ground floor, with a dining room, a bar and terrace a yard from the sea. There’s a short, piscatorial-themed menu of Provençal and Mediterranean dishes, with fish, fruit and vegetables sourced from the local market. I sat outside, as I could, and a warm baked loaf of bread the size of a baby’s head with a buttery parmesan crumble dip was placed on my table, and all my good intentions vanished (Camilla Long, The Sunday Times’s restaurant critic, tells me that she tries to resist bread and puddings).

On the basis that I never choose anything I can make at home, I had the sea bass (£41) “from the Bay of Cannes” — not that I could really verify — served bouillabaisse style, roasting hot in a cast-iron shallow casserole dish and rib-stickingly savoury (a bit too much so if I’m honest), but not so rich that I resisted long when asked if Madame wanted a dessert. I’d spotted a signature pudding: the All-Chocolate Creation with fleur de sel and olive oil ice cream — imagine a very light chocolate mousse on a broken chocolate biscuit base (£14). I had it, as Camilla won’t.

To Hôtel du Cap-Eden-Roc, where I installed myself in a Junior Suite in the main château and prepared to feel shabbier than not only my fellow guests but every member of the hotel’s 580-odd staff, in their immaculate uniforms.

To my mind, there can be no earthly explanation for the constancy of the sheer excellence and quality of every emanation from the hotel’s kitchen; I think it must be some form of Gallic magic. Every mouthful you have on site — whether in the Grill or the Michelin-starred Louroc, or via room service — is simply sublime. From the 13 varieties of bread baked daily (ciabatta, focaccias, pains de campagne, viennoises) to the featherlight creations that finish each mouthwatering banquet — I will never forget my tarragon and berry tartlet — everything is exceptional. Such was my wonder that I took a tour of the spotless, humming bakeries and chocolaterie, including an industrial melting machine, with the executive pastry chef Tarek Ahamada to see how the Viennese-style baguette is made, but I still don’t understand it.

The quality of the produce, the preparation, the invention and the service at the hotel is uniformly outstanding. Add to this its dreamy location, pine-scented, landscaped grounds, Grande Allée promenade, the Napoleon III château, its Dior spa, gym, yoga studio, five clay tennis courts, herb gardens, cabanas and pet graveyard containing headstones to dear departed doggies and, above all, the pool and the sea, and the Hôtel du Cap-Eden-Roc remains the best hotel I’ve stayed at.

Yes, I said pet graveyard, and it’s the grandest. When the pet dog of a Lady Onslow died during her stay a century ago, the hotel owner suggested that it be buried next to the rose garden, where Lady Onslow and her guests would take tea while sewing. There are 19 headstones to beloved and faithful companions, including Camarade (1927), Patou (1932), Chinchilla (1932), Sully (1938), Dou-Dou (1939), Skipy (1959) and Chick (1969), as well as dogs that belonged to the Duke and Duchess of Windsor.

All the grey headstones are tilted on the clay soil, leaning back, as though to catch the last rays of the sun. And who can blame them? 

All recommendations within this article are informed by independent expert editorial opinion. This article contains affiliate links and links to our in-house travel agency, Times Holidays, all of which will earn us revenue.

Rachel Johnson was a guest of Les Roches Rouges, which has room-only doubles from £712 (beaumier.com), and Hôtel du Cap-Eden-Roc, which has room-only doubles from £953 (oetkerhotels.com). Fly to Nice

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