GIRONDE
GIRONDE – BAZAS – A CHATEAU OF HORROR
November 24th:
We entered the Gironde and went first to Auch, (just had to pronounce it in phonetic English!). Unfortunately, we never found the famous statue of D’Artagnan. Nor that of his creator, Alexander Dumas; or the Four Musketeers.
Instead, we parked in a wide, tree-lined boulevard, outside an impressive villa bearing a ‘for sale’ sign. Just over the road we enjoyed excellent coffee and lively conversation in a smart little bar.
Having plenty of time, we took the country road to Mont-de-Marsan, on the edge of the scenic area of the Gironde. We found it to be a pretty town full of interest, and despite having earlier bought filled baguettes for midday, we could not resist mouthwatering smells from a small bistro. We had a light lunch there instead.
Then, in high hopes of a bit of luxury (£65 per night on 24th November in the Gironde was on the high side) we joined the highway to Bazas, and – CHATEAU ST. VINCENT:
A LETDOWN FROM THE START
We were impressed when we spotted the frontage of Chateau St. Vincent. We looked forward to a nice meal in an elegant dining room with a roaring log fire. To enter, though, we had to take a long way round to the back gate. (This was a surprise, as we had booked well in advance).
A dog barked fiercely at us as we parked our car in the empty yard. Finally, a man left a greenhouse-annexe affair and pointed to a long, dirty conservatory jammed with junk. We were left to search for the only door that would let us in.
NO WELCOME WHEN WE ARRIVED
We presently found ourselves in a large, dark hall filled with even darker, looming furniture. We waited at the desk a good ten minutes after dinging the bell.
SO FREEZING COLD – IT MUST HAVE BEEN HAUNTED
Eventually a lady wearing several woollen cardigans topped by a jacket under a fur gilet finally appeared. We could well understand her garb – it was icy cold in there, though warmer outside – about 10 Celsius…
She took us up a dingy, once-grand staircase onto a long landing with a beautiful polished wood floor and some antique furniture set amongst old toys. A nice bedroom seemed likely.
OUR BEDROOM WAS POOR
Instead, we were in for a disappointment. Our room was small, bare, and freezing cold. It had one of those cheap camp-bed affairs, and one inadequate see-through curtain. The shower-suite, in a sort of cupboard, looked quite smart, but we put off having showers until morning. She showed us a stone-cold radiator in our icy room. No attempt had been made to turn it on, even though we were pre-booked and had phoned to say we were on our way. Even now, she did not turn it on for us, but tossed down two small, thin towels and swept out.
Mercifully, the radiator worked. We made the room quite hot at first to warm ourselves up after a long, arctic wait. I left the bathroom door open to facilitate a passage of air, and after washing, etc. we climbed into bed to keep warm. Too dispirited to go out and hunt for food, and not risking a high-priced meal at this unwelcoming chateau, we ate the filled baguette we had bought that morning, washing it down with bottled water.
The bed was not a ‘real bed’, but a metal frame with a very thin mattress. It also had only thin, old covers. We had to pile our coats and other clothes on top in order to be warm enough to sleep.
WE WOKE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT TO BUBBLING EFFLUENT
I awoke about 2am to use the toilet and to my dismay found the foulest of smells in the shower room. So upon leaving I shut the door.
About 4.30am we were both awakened by the sound of loud bubbling. The room was filled with the strong, unmistakeable odour of effluent. We hurriedly put our things together, not even washing or cleaning our teeth, and opened the window to the early-morning cold and damp. We climbed into the bed fully clothed until at 6am we felt justified in descending to complain. It seemed that we stood forever at the reception desk, from time to time dinging the bell for attention. The husband eventually came, but he could not speak English. When his wife finally arrived she was in a fur coat. By now we had waited an hour, standing in the cold.
‘YOU SHOULD HAVE PUT A TOWEL OVER’
“No need to complain: You should have put a wet towel over the drain hole in the floor,” she said, as though this was an obvious answer to the problem; and “why did you not phone me when you noticed it?”
We said we had no idea that she would be available at that hour, and in any case she had given us no mobile phone number.
Her husband brought out some forms for me to sign, but I refused, suspecting a ‘Disclaimer’. A lot of arguing ensued, but then I remembered the ‘complaints’ number on our printout of the booking confirmation.
We telephoned Booking.com on the spot. They promised to look into it, and suggested we only paid half – but wanting just to leave right then (by now it was 8am) we paid the full amount.
Happy to say Booking.Com refunded us later.
We have no idea if the owners have improved their accommodation at Chateau St Vincent, but can only suggest careful research before booking. It is not cheap. This was our second disappointing chateau booking in ten years. We just will not take the chance again – and so probably may miss out on some delightful places…
25th November
BAZAS – NOWHERE FOR A BREAKFAST
After turning out of the heavy gates we drove the short way into the town of Bazas looking for breakfast. There were only two cafés open. Neither was serving anything but croissants A cafe in the large and impressive town square was not yet open. Thankfully, behind a raised pavement edged by railings, and under a colonnade of large, wide arches, we saw the tourist office – and it was open.
BAZAS TOURIST OFFICE – WELCOMING AND CONCERNED
The young woman within was very welcoming, even though she had just opened the doors. She listened to our tale of woe with genuine concern, and asked us to send a written report when we got home. (That was not to be until 1st December; and once home I promptly caught a virus, which sent me to bed for over a week and left me devoid of energy, so I’m not sure she ever got a copy of the report I wrote for Booking.com and later, Trip Advisor.)
BAZAS – A TOWN OF INTEREST AND CHARACTER
We had a quick look round the town, which made us wish we had more time to explore further. We decided reluctantly that there was no time to visit the cathedral. Instead, we entered a very interesting sort of ‘under-croft’ at the top end of the square. It had once housed the weekly market. It also had a large trough where clothes were communally washed (probably with many a quip) before the invention of washing machines. Now there were a few historical bits and pieces put in there – possibly to over-winter in the dry before a proper exhibition was erected in the following spring. An arch led out to the imposing Hotel de Ville.
Bazas is an interesting town, and we would like to go back (but not to that chateau!) The surrounding area holds much to justify such a grand tourist office. More staff came in to start work; they were all equally helpful and friendly.
From then on we had good service everywhere we stayed and enjoyed some truly great meals at a very fair price.
Text by – Jackie Usher, SWWJ. (aka author Debbie Darkin, & ‘Graham Liverpool’ on Trip Advisor.)
Photographs by – Graham Usher.
Feature Photograph by Alex Cipolle
