Once upon a time we would leave Calais and simply keep driving.
Ten and a half hours later we would arrive in the Var and the holiday would begin.
Nowadays we’re a little more relaxed about such things.
The area around Dijon seemed a useful halfway point and, on this trip, we decided to make our first stop something a little more special.
Not a polished luxury hotel.
Not a Relais & Châteaux experience.
Something different.
Chateau de Longecourt is the sort of place that feels as though someone has opened their front door and said, “Make yourselves at home.”
From the casual greeting as we arrived to the simple, “I’m doing the tour at six o’clock,” everything felt slightly different to a normal hotel stay.
Breakfast would be here in the morning.
Through that door was the bridge across the moat.
The charcuterie board would arrive there later in the evening.
If we preferred to eat out, there were recommendations.
If not, we could choose one of three local wines and settle in for the evening.
It felt almost alien at first.
We have become accustomed to reception desks, key cards and carefully managed guest experiences.
This was something else entirely.
More like being welcomed into somebody’s home than checking into a hotel.
Yet within minutes it felt completely natural.
In fact, it felt exactly right.
There was a charcuterie board waiting for us, a chilled bottle of rose’ wine and the suggestion that we might like to sit on the bridge overlooking the moat while the evening settled around us.
No itinerary.
No performance.
No attempt to impress.
Just the quiet confidence of a place that has been standing for centuries and sees no need to shout about it.
That was its charm.
Most hotels carefully manage how much of the building guests get to experience.
Here it felt rather different.
There were rooms to wander through.
Corridors to explore.
Unexpected corners to discover.
At times it felt less like staying in a hotel and more like temporarily inheriting an extraordinary family home.
As dinner approached, a few guests drifted together naturally.
Conversations started easily.
There was no organised entertainment, no carefully curated experience, simply a shared appreciation of where we happened to find ourselves.
Before long we found ourselves wandering the grounds, stopping to chat with a painter working beside the moat.
His easel was set up at the water’s edge and the château was slowly appearing on canvas as the light changed.
Nearby, the evening chorus had begun.
Frogs hidden among the ponds provided a constant backdrop while the setting sun coloured the stonework with shades that no camera ever quite captures.
This isn’t somewhere you stay for a flawless five-star hotel experience.
It is somewhere you stay for an unforgettable one.
The sort of experience that reminds you that luxury and memorability are not always the same thing.
There are grander hotels.
There are more polished hotels.
There are certainly hotels with more facilities.
Yet few places have welcomed us so completely into their world.
Somewhere during that evening the holiday truly began.
Not when we left England.
Not when we crossed the Channel.
Not even when we arrived in Burgundy.
It began sitting beside a moat with a glass of chilled rose’ wine, the sound of frogs in the background, a painter at work in the fading light and the feeling that, for one evening at least, this remarkable place belonged to us.
In many ways, Chateau de Longecourt set the benchmark for every stay that followed.
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