Chantilly

Using a phrase like "mostly sweet" to describe our stay at the Dolce Chantilly is a graphic reminder of the danger of averages. While 500 is the average of 499 and 501, it is also the average of 0 and 1000: the extremes are masked. To put it another way, this hotel, like football, is an entity of two halves. But let me begin at the beginning, as Lewis Carroll said. He would have liked this place.

We booked in for two nights for a spring break. As we rolled up to the security barrier and surveyed the acres of parkland, the statuary, the signposts to this facility and that facility, the golf course and the building itself spreading outwards in two graceful wings, I did ask my husband anxiously, "How much did you say this was?" It was a BOGOF - two nights for the price of one and so €90 per night for a double room and breakfast. Without the special offer we would probably have looked elsewhere.

So we were thinking, "Yes! Result!" as we bounded up the steps into the reception area. My house could have fitted in here easily. A huge, airy space, high ceiling, tiled floor, rugs, big hearth, warm welcome. Fully expecting the room to be the same, we schlepped the quarter mile to the lifts and up to the room - which was disappointing. Nothing was actually wrong, everything was there, furnishing was fine, plenty of light, good view, but it was small. We like a bit of space to move around, but there was scarcely a yard between the end of the bed and the table unit. The bathroom looked OK, not big, but OK. We felt a bit deflated but figured it wasn't too bad. At full price, though, it was not good value.

Then a bathroom ceiling panel fell on my husband's head.

Honestly, I wish I'd been there. But I was getting some things from the car and returned to find him picking bits of plaster out of his hair and looking mighty peeved. The receptionist didn't seem fantastically put out; it was only one panel and he wasn't actually bleeding or concussed. Or maybe it happens often. She would get it seen to straightaway. No doubt, we said, but we would like a different room; when bathroom ceilings start to collapse where does it end? In a heap of rubble in the basement? Anyway, a quick inspection of a similar rabbit-hutch soon found a badly chipped toilet seat. Back to the receptionist who said, plaintively, "What do you want me to do?" With the initiative so comprehensively handed to us, we said we wanted a room which had (a) an intact bathroom ceiling, and (b) an intact toilet seat. We would have liked to add, (c) a room with no furniture chicanes, but that is in fact what we got. Admittedly it was one of a block of rooms adapted for handicapped guests (was she trying to make a point here?) but that meant a good deal more space. It also had a walk-in shower/wetroom affair which I rather enjoyed. What we lost was some natural light - it was rather dark but all in all a good trade.

Finally settled in, our thoughts turned to dinner. We resolved not to have anything flambéed! The hotel has two restaurants, the Carmontelle and L'Etoile and we had reserved in the Carmontelle on the first night. I can honestly say it was one of the most memorable meals I have had. Everything was terrific. The food was lovely, beautifully cooked and presented, nice size portions. The service was knowledgeable, friendly, well-paced. The dining-room was small enough to feel intimate, but the tables were big and well spaced out. The wine suggested by the waiter to go with our fish was so good that when I eventually find it in the UK (so far no success) I am going to buy a case. I'll tell you what it was if you undertake to let me know a supplier. It was a white wine from St Guilhem-le-Désert, a tiny village in the Minervois (not an area known for its white wines) which strangely enough we've actually visited. The village is dominated by a large abbey church built by Guilhem who was a cousin of Charlemagne and fought the Saracens. If only we'd known then about its wine . Anyway, the evening passed beatifically, blessed by the sainted Guilhem. At the end we were escorted to the bar to be served coffee sitting in chairs so large and deep I needed a crane to get up.

The following evening we dined in L'Etoile which had a different atmosphere, more informal and bustling, bigger room but equally enjoyable. So you can choose your ambience. Breakfast is also served in L'Etoile and is the usual extensive buffet to set you up for the day.

Although there is plenty to see in Chantilly and the surrounding area you needn't move from the hotel if you want to rest and relax. Bring your golf clubs, there is a golf course on site, then go for a swim in the pool, have a sauna, take a walk (or a jog) on one of the trails in the surrounding woods.

So if you average out the bordering-on-the-great public rooms, restaurants and facilities with the too small, sometimes dark, sometimes downright dangerous bedrooms you get a "mostly sweet" experience. The problem is the hotel is geared to the corporate market and needs to pack in hundreds of conference delegates. For the private guest it's only good value when there's a special offer, which is a pity. If it halved the number of rooms by doubling the space in each it would be really great. Meanwhile - watch your head!