Before we left Switzerland, we booked six nights of stay at the Hotel Comfort Davout Nation, Paris.

When we arrived for checkin, the main office had lost our booking and had to give us a room temporarily for the first evening. Our non-smoking double reaked of cigarette smoke. The double bed’s sheets had specks of dirt and a few stray hairs, and the bedspread/comforter had several dubious stains. The room was so “cozy” that one small suitcase occupied about a quarter of the free floor area. The advertised remote control for our ceiling-mounted cable television was nowhere to be found, and the volume controls on the television itself were missing. We never saw the advertised coffee maker, but that was OK since we wouldn’t have wanted to spare even that much valuable space.

The continental breakfast around 9:00 the next morning made me wonder whether the French Revolution had actually brought about as much change as my schooling had led me to expect. There were two baguette heels (and no plates), a basket full packets of jam (and no knives), orange juice (and no glasses), and a coffee machine (and no mugs). When a hotel employee came out to refill one or two of these lacking items, a small stampede of hungry wildebeast-people would clear them out again in seconds.

When we complained at the front desk about the smoke in our room and asked for another, the rabid mongoose of a maid behind the counter responded by sustaining a wounded hyena laugh for about thirty seconds. It was awkward. The other guy at front desk insisted that the hotel was too full to give us a room that fulfilled our non-smoking booking, but we threatened to leave so they moved us to an even smaller not non-smoking room that was inexplicably smoke free.

In summary, I heartily recommend this hotel to persons who wish their own life stories were being written by Franz Kafka.


  • Dirt
  • Tinyness
  • Smoky stench
  • Inadequate breakfast
  • Questionable neighborhood


  • Easy access to metro.