ST TROPEZ

CHÂTEAU DE LA MESSARDIÈRE

Earth hath nothing to show more fair
Than the Château de la Messardière.

Yes, I know. I am not the greatest poet since Shakespeare. But I do know a wonderful hotel when I visit one. And I can recognise a setting so exquisite that it is almost painful to behold. When I penned the couplet above, I was sitting on the balcony of my beautifully furnished suite and looking out at one of the prettiest views Europe has to offer. The sun shone down upon vineyards, upon pine trees, upon distant beaches and upon a bay so perfectly curved it must have been lifted from the pages of a fairytale. The picture I reproduce with this article gives a sense of this panorama, but the true beauty of the reality has escaped the camera’s lens. For that you, too, must visit the Château de la Messardière.

Few pleasures in life can equal that of sweeping through the wrought iron gates and purring up the hill, through the 25 acres of carefully tended gardens, towards the Moorish turrets of this 19th castle – particularly if you can do it, as I did, in a fine Royce. I manoeuvred the old dear into a prime spot near the main entrance, and there she stayed for the duration of my visit – for the hotel has an efficient shuttle to whisk its guests to and from the town and the beaches. Then I stepped onto fine Persian rugs (they are everywhere throughout the property, adding much to the sense of luxury) and strode into the entrance lobby.

Fine art is very much a feature of this place. Victoire Messardière, the great grand-daughter of the Comte de la Messardière, the builder of the Château, is a fine painter, and her canvases – full of delicious reds, turquoises and golds – add glamour to the walls of most of the corridors and rooms of the property. And there was also a special exhibition of the paintings of one of St Tropez’s most respected artists, Vincent Roux (1928-1991). A particularly attractive representation of the town harbour hung beyond the Reception desk, and I was sorely tempted to wander off before the formalities of registration were over. (I commend the General Manager, Mr Gerald Hardy. Not only does he lead a friendly, helpful and efficient staff: he also ensures that the hotel is a centre for these significant cultural events.)

Still, I persisted, and was soon being shown to room 403. This was a Pampelone Suite, and therefore 814 to 1,714 euros a night, according to season, bed and breakfast for two. For so much elegant space, in a town not known for its low prices, these rates must be regarded as remarkable value. For consider the apartment which was now at my disposal.

The hall was as large as some hotel bedrooms. Its floor, like all the floors throughout the suite, was covered with hand-made tiles. On the right were doors to the cloakroom (with a loo and a shower) and to the dressing room. Straight ahead was the sitting room, flooded with light and colour. A sofa, two easy chairs, a writing table and table lamps had all been chosen to convey an atmosphere of easy-going luxury. Several of Victoire Messardière’s paintings graced the walls. Large windows revealed the blissful view, to which I have already alluded. Doors led to my two terraces, and small windows with shutters (almost like portholes) enabled a more discreet contemplation of the wonders without.

Sliding doors led to the bedroom. Here was more hanging space (with my safe) and a bed (pictured), which was remarkable both for its comfort and for its style. You will note that it gives the impression of being a four-poster, but its wrought iron tester was actually secured to the ceiling. The corner drapes of lace did not conceal posts, but were simply items of pleasing decoration.

This flair and good taste was also evident in the large bathroom (pictured). Startling red surrounds to the two basins and no fewer than 14 spotlights certainly brightened my ablutions. The tub was large and over it – to my delight, for I am an inveterate washer of clothes on my travels – was an extendable drying line. With toiletries by L’Occitane, a pair of scales, a separate shower and a separate loo, these facilities were entirely to my liking.

And they were kept pristine by the chambermaids. Those of us who stay in hotels too often take the Housekeeping Department for granted. We should not, for upon it depends much of our comfort and peace of mind. The excellence of the housekeeping here was demonstrated by the following incident. For reasons with which I will not detain you, an item of underclothing fell from my balustrade onto the terrace of the suite below. For a moment I did not know what to do, for I wished to embarrass neither myself, nor the guest on the lower floor. Then it occurred to me to call Housekeeping. Within five minutes the garment had been retrieved, and a delicate situation had been resolved.

Now that it is my custom to travel with my own cds, I was delighted to find that one of the two swish television machines in the suite was able to play them. Thus, I could sit and gaze through the windows at the sunlit extravaganza of beauty outside to the stirring sounds of Jean Langlais’ Messe Solennelle. For my morning exercises and for the donning of my pink seersucker suit for the daily promenade along the St Tropez harbour, it was Mozart. At these times it occurred to even my gloomy soul that life could be very good indeed.

Such moments of optimistic disclosure came also with my eating. For the food at the Château de la Messardière is seriously good. Let me start, as all decent folk should, with breakfast. Partaken on a spacious terrace (pictured), the breaking of the fast was a time of leisurely elegance. There, once more, was the view – to be enjoyed out of the sun’s glare, for the waiters were expert at siting the moveable shades. Then, after a pause for my first cup of coffee, I sallied over to the buffet to secure glasses of fresh green apple juice with ice, wonderful croissants, plates of ham and cheese and chunks of crusty bread. From the kitchen were brought to me plates of bacon, mushrooms and tomatoes. All was of the highest quality and all was eaten from fine Bernardaud crockery.

In the evenings, after struggling into a starched collar and a white suit, I enjoyed my perambulations around the attractive swimming pool (pictured). This enabled me to view the buildings which surround the original keep. They were built in 1990 and imitate the manner of the Italian Renaissance, with Florentine columns, Venetian arches and Genoese colours. The whole ensemble works very well.

So to my dinner in the Restaurant Trois Saisons (pictured). This bright and attractive room is presided over with courteous efficiency by Manager Sébastien Nectoux. Chef Patrick Cuissard sends from his kitchen dishes which are imaginatively conceived and precisely executed. A four course set dinner is available for 112 euros. My four courses from the carte cost 131 euros. I am an enormous fan of beetroot, so I was sure that I would like my opening scallops. I did. There was the wonderful beet, along with cream of green pistachio, young salad leaves and herb flavoured caramel. (You see what I mean about the imaginative conception?) Next it was foie gras, with mulled wine, vine leaves dipped in white chocolate and Muscat grapes with spices. This was the highlight of the meal – rich and luscious, but also subtle and complex. Roasted fillet of beef with salted butter and veal jus was a fine piece of meat, and my meal concluded with a white chocolate macaroon with olive oil ice cream.

The cellar houses around 300 wines, nearly all French – although I was glad to see a German dry riesling for 50 euros on the list. Prices (in euros) range from 27 for a local rosé to 3,400 for the 1996 Pétrus. Some of the pricing is slightly eccentric – for example, the 1999 Haut Brion comes in lower (350) than the inferior 1997 vintage (426), so you need to keep your wits about you. Of the clarets, I liked the look of 1990 Lynch Bages (396) and 1995 Palmer (386). Burgundies include 2004 Montrachet, Leflaive (640) and 1996 La Tâche (1,330). From the Languedoc, there is the excellent Grange des Pères in its 2004 vintage (114).

Sommelier Laurent Naudot poured into the Zwiesel glasses two Provençal bottles. My white was from that area between Aix and Marseille known as the Bouches du Rhône. This marsanne, with an element of chardonnay, was clear in its structure and heavy with exotic fruit (Domaine de Trévallon, 2005 – 127 euros) My red was from Les Baux de Provence, a blend of cabernet and syrah, and yielded vast depths of blackberries and blackcurrants (Domaine Hauvette, 2002 – 58 euros).

If you are willing to be captivated by colour, elegance, attentive service, enjoyable food and rare and exquisite beauty, do visit the Château de la Messardière. Does earth hath anything to show more fair? Honestly, I rather doubt it.

ADDRESSES

CHÂTEAU DE LA MESSARDIÈRE
Route de Tahiti, Saint Tropez 83990, France.
Telephone +33 (0)4 94 56 76 11
Fax +33 (0)4 94 56 76 01
Email: sales@messardiere.com
www.messardiere.com
Double rooms from 200-460 euros, according to season, breakfast extra (25-32 euros)
Open: March to November
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