THE FULL MONTE

CHRISTINA KO makes a stop in Monte Carlo, playground of the rich, and takes to the hushed grandeur of the Hotel Hermitage

MONTE CARLO, the city where decadence goes to overdose. Nothing is done halfway and nobody is ashamed about excess. Tourists come to suck in the glamour and recoil from the prices; the bourgeois come to show off their brand logos. The truly affluent come to fit in, to be incognito. You love it or you hate it – with just two square kilometres in area, there’s certainly no room for middle ground. If extravagance is your schtick, you stay at the Hotel de Paris, with its adjacent access to the Casino de Monte Carlo, a structure no less grand than Cinderella’s castle or Donald Trump’s gilded apartment. On the inside, it’s something out of a James Bond film, mainly because the casino was the inspiration for the titular den in Casino Royale, and has been used as a set in other Bond flicks.

The Hotel de Paris is fine for types who prefer to revel in that kind of decided opulence. But the sister property, Hotel Hermitage, affords a different feel, a restrained ostentation, while retaining all the privileges of a Hotel de Paris customer (a gold card – carte d’or – is presented to all guests of Monte Carlo Société des Bains properties, which also include Monte Carlo Beach and the Monte Carlo Bay Hotel & Resort).

Location-wise, the Hermitage is barely a block away from the fountain at the city centre, but down that street it’s a different world, almost like a gated community – if a gated community was lined with the likes of Céline and Yves Saint Laurent. The lobby is quiet by Belle Époque standards, ornate but nothing out of the ordinary. Beyond the seemingly modest entrance, however, the hotel grounds are massive, and each turn of the corridor brings new revelations.

The property has undergone a massive refurbishment that began in 2002 and continues in phases until next year, melding the existing structure with modern elements in a surprisingly seamless manner. A second lobby, the Jardin d’Hiver, is splashed in carmine, including as a centrepiece a plush and suggestive sofa that, when viewed from the mezzanine floor, appears like a pair of lips pursed for a kiss. Directly above that is the hotel’s single most impressive piece of design, a stained-glass-and-steel dome designed by Gustav Eiffel, which by day bathes the venue in a clean sunlight, and by night allows passionate crimson to come to the fore. Breakfast is served on the mezzanine floor, and though most choose to make the most of Monte Carlo’s sunshine on the terrace, the indoor dining area, with its fascinating marriage of baroque and latter-day-vogue, is a much more lavish experience.

Nearly all hotels have spas nowadays, but few approach the value-added service with such gusto as Les Thermes Marins, which is a five-floor haven of relaxation adjacent and connected to the hotel. Everything is bright and/or silvery, sort of like a futuristic vision of a space station spa, as envisioned in the 1980s – in a good way, and tempered again with lots of natural light. The treatments incorporate anything you can think of and a bunch of things you didn’t, including the Monte Carlo Diamond – a peel, bath and massage that uses ingredients such as diamond powder and “gold and light” cream – as well as a smorgasbord of high-tech treatments and signature marine treatments.

The food and beverage department at the hotel is no slouch either. Recently renovated, Vistamar is a seafood-heavy restaurant that serves locally caught fare, cooked in locally inspired methods. One type of fish can receive various different treatments – take the sea bass, subjected to ember-grilling, or wrapped in salt dough, or with saffron-flavoured tapioca, or garnished with sweet and sour pumpkin. Equally impressive is the Crystal Bar a few steps down the hall, whose corridor demands your attention with a windswept three-dimensional floral tornado frescoed on the ceiling and wall.

All of this is fairly available to guests of the hotel consortium or anyone who ambles into the property, but it’s only those who book a stay at the hotel who get to use the rooms. Ask for one in the Midi wing facing the ocean, with a terrace and a bay window that overlooks the pier. It’s guaranteed, no matter how many three-bedroom uber-villas you’ve stayed in, no matter how many presidential suites you’ve placed footprints in: a simple one-roomer here will stun you with quaint simplicity. The wallpaper-cum-mural behind the backboard of the bed transports you to a different era, almost as if you’re Alice in Wonderland and you’ve walked into the picture. One last proposition here before signing off: unleash your inner child and jump on the bed. When you’re dizzy enough, collapse onto the covers and let the room spin into a kaleidoscope of lilac and grey. There’s no better beauty outside your window than this.