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Sophie Goodwin visits Paris when it sizzles during a hot July weekend, resting at her favorite writer's final crime scene: L'Hotel, the famed left bank legend beloved by Oscar Wilde. She discovers a stay that's every bit as as decadent as Wilde would have wanted.
BY SOPHIE GOODWIN | CABANA TRAVEL | 20 JULY 2026
Oscar Wilde had a penchant for a certain type of tastefully ostentatious hotel, running up huge unpaid bills at L'Hotel. The Parisian property has been preserved with such charm and finesse that you can imagine him loitering on the romantic spiralled staircase, complete with leopard print carpet, which surely has a few stories to tell.
Formerly the Hôtel d'Alsace, Wilde spent his final months here and passed away on site in 1900. ‘I am dying beyond my means’, he declared. He lived in Room 16, which is now bookable: The Oscar Wilde Suite, with a private terrace and fittingly arresting decor.
The bare bones of the building remain admirably intact, flagstone walls, checkered-floorboards, and original drawings by Jean Cocteau. The 20 individually decorated rooms are artfully arranged around a seven-storey atrium. Rooms are all jewel boxes: lavishly decorated by interior designer Jacques Garcia. Rich colors (violet, blood red, emerald green and black) and tapestries, with lacquer and tassels abound.
What the space lacks in surface area, it makes up for in style and panache. Our bath had antique taps and was nattily fitted into an alcove, feeling more like a medieval bathing experience than a modern way of washing. There were delicious smelling Green & Spring products, and astrological imagery hanging by the bed.
Service is strict, yet invested. Do as you please, and we'll interrupt you if it's not allowed. The scene, overall, is elegant. We were surrounded by eccentric and wealthy Texans, wanting to join in and chat, along with a plethora of sexy French men propping up their famous bar. Cocktails are taken very seriously at the dimly lit Wilde’s Lounge on the ground floor where the skilled barmen make a mean negroni and the wine list is to the point. I judge a place by its Chablis, and the mini bar, both of which more than passed the test. The latter could be described as serving the munchies greatest hits: a Toblerone bar, salted crisps and full fat coke in the original glass bottle.
Breakfast is a buffet, with traditional Parisian spin. Lots of delightful pastries, hard boiled eggs and mayonnaise, baguettes, jam, and, somewhat surprisingly, exotic fruit skewers. Yet there's no need for panic, for the more specific among us there is also a robust à la carte. A divine garden is hidden at the back to dine in, with a water fountain (just ignore the plant wall), or you can settle on a cosy velvet banquet in the main sitting room.
L’Hotel’s central location is a real draw too, smack bang in Saint-Germain-des-Prés – where the nearby cafés and bars host the type of European crowd you hope you'll discover in London, yet never seem to – and situated on Rue des Beaux-Arts, which draws artists and creatives from all over the city due to its plethora of art galleries and specialist shops (including stationery and one selling just Japanese fans). When we visited the street was alive with wine-fuelled exhibition openings, and vibey locals hopping from one watering hole to the next.
Should you suffer too much joie de vivre, the private subterranean hammam is available to book free of charge for each guest. There's no gym or corporate spa: L'Hotel is as authentic as it gets, oozing Parisian charm and sass (don't expect to order a hefty American style club sandwich and go to a techno gym). It's a real treat finding small and charming hotels that still exist, like my other favourite, Hôtel Duc de Saint-Simon in the seventh: value for money, without a million light switches to throw you in the middle of the night. On a recent stay at Saint-Simon during fashion week I asked for a toothbrush, 'Yes Madame,' was the reply, 'But come and get it yourself.' I knew I'd found the place for me – maximum spirit and authenticity.
Having had such a terrific time at Oscar Wilde's favorite stay, I left Paris with a short term rent on an apartment in the city from the Autumn. "To get into the best society, nowadays, one has either to feed people, amuse people, or shock people," concludes Wilde, my all-time favorite anti-hero. I plan to do all three.
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