Grand Hôtel Bain: A Note from the World's Oldest Family-Run Hotel
And it all started with a spilled spritz
A month ago I knocked over an Aperol spritz on the terrace at the Grand Hôtel Bain. I wasn’t charged, the woman from behind the bar brought a fresh one. And, told me to try the lavender ice cream. I wrote about it.
This week the patriarch of the hotel, Arnaud Bain, sent me an email. Three paragraphs of thanks. A paragraph about his son, who he is proud of, and an invitation to come back.
That folks, is hospitality.
It’s the same gesture of kindness and care. Once at the table, once at the keyboard.
The Bain family has been doing it that way for 297 years.
His son’s name is Clément.
He’s 24. He has worked in kitchens since hotel school.
I am not talking flipping burgers!
Clément has worked at the Provençal truffle institution, Chez Bruno in Lorgues. The Hostellerie des Gorges de Pennafort in Callas, a country hotel-restaurant with a Michelin star. And a medieval castle turned hotel, The Château de Trigance, twenty minutes from his home.
For those of you not fluent in Michelin stars, this is not a minor league resume.
Then Paris.
Le 114 Faubourg at Le Bristol, one of the city’s palace hotels. The kind of place chefs spend careers trying to reach!
This year, Nice. At Les Agitateurs, a Michelin-starred restaurant by the port.
And next, home.
Back to Comps-sur-Artuby population 346.
In Arnaud’s words:
Mon fils sera également très content de vous lire et est également très motivé pour reprendre la suite de notre maison familiale. Il sera la dixième génération !
Roughly translated: my son will be glad to read this, and is motivated to carry on our family house. He’ll be the tenth generation.
A 24-year-old with that resume could go anywhere!
He’s choosing a village of 346 people, a hotel his family has run since 1727, a kitchen that suggests lavender ice cream to people who spill their drinks, and the tenth generation of a story that has outlasted Louis XV, the French Revolution, two world wars, and an artillery camp.
The regional tourism page still mentions chapels and seasons. It still doesn’t mention him.
I loved that post, Kay. You wandered in, a story unfolded and you made friends along the way. The wonders of travel, right at your fingertips--the very ones that spilled your spritz ): which helped write the story, that 'quel dommage' moment that turned into something that resonated w/ the people of the small French village and world's oldest family-run hotel. Write on!
Oh, this is such a beautiful story. Truly, this is hospitality! 🥹