Every evening as we walked up the stairs toward our 2nd floor room, we could peer into a small interior window that looked down upon this lovely and seldom used lounge at the hotel. I found it so charming I decided to write my travel notes here, using the small table while sitting on the setee in front of the window .
On Sunday afternoon, we thought it might be good to compare another hotel restaurant with that of Hotel Belle Etoile; it was a mistake. We paid more for a three course lunch of inferior quality in a much less charming restaurant, and I learned (the hard way) the value of using a menu translator. Ris au Veau is sweetbreads, not a rice dish I believed I had ordered. A valiant effort was made to finish the sweetbreads, but it was a losing proposition.
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