La Ferme Saint Siméon is a luxury 5-star hotel in Honfleur.
Situated on a bluff overlooking the Seine River estuary, this peaceful and bucolic setting was the gathering place for many 19th century artists such as Eugène Boudin (click here to see Boudin’s painting of The Saint Siméon farm) – Honfleur’s native son
Gustave Courbet, Johan Jongkind and Claude Monet (click here to see Monet’s painting of The Road to the Farm of Saint-Simeon in Winter). It was here they founded the Impressionist School of Honfleur.
Only back then, A room was 40 franc per month. Present day, the price can go up to as high as $480 per night peak season. We stayed here during off-season and had a better deal.
The rooms are large and cozy with a complimentary mini-bar.
The bed is super comfortable. I love these soft slippers and asked for an extra pair to take home as souvenir.
The toiletries are that of Hermès.
Now I am not really into luxury brands, so this is as close as I get to an Hermès :).
During the time of our visit, the rooftop of this thatched hut was in renovation. It will soon be turn into a bistro onsite.
Nestled in the heart of a quintessential Normandy village, not far from Deauville and Trouville, L’Auberge de la Source is a sister hotel of La Ferme Saint Siméon.
My room there was rustic with a small shower and poor sound-proofed. But waking up to this view and the sound of babbling streams and bird tweeting was a real treat.
La Ferme Saint-Siméon offers a two hour painting workshop led by a local artist. Painting materials will be loaned. Each lesson is limited to two people and the time of the booking must be confirmed in advance. €100 per person.
Note: There is a onsite restaurant in the hotel, but it is a bit pricey for our standard – I mean I am talking about 40-60€ for a starter and 18-24€ desserts – so we ventured out for food. Restaurant Le Bréard is within walking distance and offers a fantastic three- course menu at a reasonable price.
After dinner, we took a stroll back to the hotel. By 22:00, the street was completely deserted. On approaching the hotel, thin fog rolled in. As we were passing by an abandoned building next to a shrub-covered slope, we heard a short screeching sound. Unnerved by this, I asked my friend: “Was that a crow?” She replied: “I don’t think so. It must be some small animal got eaten.” And that was when the image of this film popped into my head. Quickly I flipped up the collars of my jacket, clinched them tightly in front of my neck and trotted back to the hotel.