It was ten years ago this week that, on the advice of my mother, I found myself naked and shivering in a tiled torture chamber in a remote spa French town. Mother had signed me up for something called ‘The Cure’. The town itself was charming. Bourbon-L’Archambault is widely renowned for its thermal waters, crumbling medieval castle and patisseries selling perfect almond financiers.
The venue for ‘The Cure’ was equally alluring: a grand art nouveau establishment built in the 1800s by the architect Charles Le Coeur (a friend to Renoir no less). With a magnificent cathedral-height tiled atrium and sulphuric waters bubbling at its core, it promised to heal ails of every variety.
Unfortunately, back then ‘kindness’, ‘snowflake’ or even ‘are you ready, mademoiselle?’ wasn’t part of the vernacular. The treatment rooms resembled operating rooms circa 1820 with metal and rubber equipment dangling over plastic studded beds and my ‘therapies’ comprised a series of heavy hosings-down, the likes of which you see in prison movies.
A decade on, bolstered by years of sampling some of the best spas in the world, I was ready for a rematch – I mean, revisit. This time, I was fully prepared to shout the safe word should things veer in the direction of Shawshank but I’m pleased to report that Thermes de Bourbon-L’Archambault has been brought cleanly up to date. This is a place one can enjoy ‘douches pénétrantes’, massages and long soaks in natural healing waters for several days with no fear at all of incarceration.
Like most of my fellow spa-goers, I’d made my base for the week Hob Montespan Talleyrand, a historic hotel situated next door to the baths (find the door on the second floor and you can scurry directly to the spa from your room in your slippers). It’s not just convenience that makes this hotel the top spot to book, it has much to commend it; the ancient turret that throws just the right amount of shade over the rooftop pool; the smart ground floor library-cum-games room perfect for evening drinks; the gentle warmth of the staff. I could go on…
There isn’t a big price difference between entry-level rooms and the deluxe suites, so it’s worth splashing out. The bigger ones come with original wooden beams, exposed sandstone walls and canopied beds inspired by the court of Versailles. Our room on the first floor had acres of space including a separate living area and an elegant bank of French windows overlooking the Place des Thermes.
Breakfast is superb. Freshly baked baguettes, pastries, local cheeses, hams, fromage blanc with raspberry coulis and stewed fruit. There’s even a DIY egg boiler and an orange juicer. For dinner, Bourbonnais dishes such as Charolais côte de boeuf, rabbit cooked in mustard and escargots are served at reasonable prices. We had the plat du jour most evenings. It’s the sort of place where you can simply put yourself in the chef’s hands.
My husband – stickler that he is – found the hotel furnishings a tad dated and had little patience for the ‘shufflers’ at breakfast, but I found everything to be perfect – and refreshingly un-hip. I think the very best thing about this hotel, though, is how, like the thermal baths and whole town itself, it flies totally under the radar. You’re highly unlikely to encounter any tourists. Certainly no influencers. It isn’t on any hot lists or listed in Mrs & Mrs Smith.
Apologies for the cliché, but this really is a ‘hidden gem’. Should you have plans to drive from the UK to the south of France in the foreseeable, this is the perfect stop-over. Restful, reinvigorating and reassuringly French. Bringing mother, optional.
Rooms at Hob Montespan Talleyrand start from 90 euros including breakfast. For more information about the thermal spa at Bourbon-L’Archambault, please visit www.chainethermal.fr. Follow Leo on Instagram @leonorabear.
