"Hang yourself, brave Crillon. We fought at Arques and you were not there."
Those somewhat menacing words, carved into the wall of the lobby at the Hôtel de Crillon, were still there. Relief. Entering my favourite hotel for the first time since it reopened after a five-year restoration, I ran to see those words like a kid arriving at the cottage in the spring, doing the round of rocks and docks. I needed to know that I would find something familiar, something I remembered.
Working as vice-president of public affairs for the century-old CP Hotels in the 1990s, I was often in Paris, a regular guest at one of the most opulent hotels in the world. Built by King Louis XV in 1758, the Crillon takes its name from the Duke of Crillon, who moved into the palace in 1788. His descendants lived there for more than a century, until it was converted to a hotel in 1909. Although I was no stranger to beautiful chateaux hotels, the Hôtel de Crillon was always special – a place of such extraordinary beauty and refinement that life seemed to get better simply by walking through the doors. Actually, one doesn't so much walk into the Crillon as one is "whooshed" in by a cadre of doormen and bellmen.
The hotel’s exterior, top, and the concierge area.
My days at "Camp Crillon" were right out of Eloise – I cracked the intimidating concierge team with gifts of maple syrup, to the point where they would tell me stories about its inner workings and eccentric guests. The pages with their little round hats somehow always knew where I was and would deliver my phone messages on silver trays. I once mentioned to the doorman that I was scared to drive across Paris to return an enormous rental car; when I came back, he told me simply that it had been taken care of – voilà, no more Volvo.
The tiny, hidden bar at the back of the Crillon was my safe and cozy Parisian version of Cheers. I felt totally relaxed there – not easy for a woman most often alone. I always ordered rum and Diet Coke. This request initially was a shock for the bartender – he had to search for the one bottle of rum from Martinique (I think he actually blew dust off it). But after a while we became friends and the bottle remained closer to the front.
Even after I left CP, I always returned to the Crillon. It remained my favourite hotel because of a combination of wonderful memories and welcome familiarity. The past few years, while it was closed, Paris was not the same for me.
In July, the Hôtel de Crillon, now managed by Rosewood Hotels, discreetly opened its doors to the public. What they have created is, in a word, splendid. Architect Richard Martinet and the design team have achieved the most brilliant yet elusive of outcomes: The hotel is fresh and functionally far more practical than before; yet, respect for its history is evident in hundreds of small details.
Arrival is still an occasion, but check-in – fast and private – now takes place directly off the lobby in what used to be the gift shop.
The Jardin d’Hiver lounge.
My suite overlooked the famous Jardin d'Hiver courtyard. I left my windows open, the linen curtains swaying gently in the summer breeze. The duvets are almost impossibly light, and the Porthault linens are enough to make you never want to leave your bed. The washrooms were always big – and this has not changed. My grey and white marble washroom had a soaker tub and rain shower, with bespoke Buly 1803 toiletries. Rooms come with personalized stationery set desks that inspire one to forget all about text messages and write elegant handwritten notes instead.
The hotel now has some truly modern elements, including a lobby barber shop managed by La Barbière of Paris, with a hipster vibe and Aston Martin car seats.
The beds are fitted with Porthault linens.
However, the two biggest improvements are the creation of one of the finest hotel bars in Paris and a breathtaking, golden pool.
The new bar is in the site of the former fine-dining restaurant, Les Ambassadeurs. This was the kind of place where one would dress in full hair and makeup for breakfast – never has a poached egg been so elegant. But it was empty most of the time. Now, locals and visitors alike are welcomed into a totally reimagined space that still has its original mouldings, soaring six-metre ceilings and magnificent chandeliers. There is live music and an extensive list of spirits, a nod to modern cocktail culture. As much as I loved the old bar, watching the sun set over Paris through the new bar's huge windows overlooking the Place de la Concorde, I had to admit this is much, much better. The bar is part of a conscious effort by Rosewood to welcome Parisians back to the property, and from the constant flow of elegantly dressed patrons I saw, this has been a success, making Les Ambassadeurs a must-visit spot for that great French tradition of people watching.
The pool, lined with a mosaic of gold-tinted molten glass, is one of the best improvements from the renovation.
The pool – which is simply one of the most beautiful I have ever seen – is lined with a mosaic of 17,600 pieces of gold-tinted molten glass, created and installed by local craftsmen. I went for a swim just as the morning sun came through the skylights and reflected on the gold in the water.
My mother used to tell me, "You can never go back." But the Hôtel de Crillon welcomed me with a fresh, friendly new outlook. The elements that combined to make this a truly great hotel – its history, beauty and heartfelt service culture – are intact in a redesigned property that far surpasses even my most sentimental memories.
Oh, that quote? It is from September, 1597, and it turns out it isn't as scary as I always thought. Apparently, King Henry IV of France was writing to say he had had a really good day on the battlefield and he was sorry his friend Crillon had missed the fun.
Hôtel de Crillon, A Rosewood Hotel; rooms from €1,170 a night; rosewoodhotels.com/en/hotel-de-crillon.
The writer was a guest of the hotel; it did not review or approve this article.