Hôtel-Restaurant l'Auberge

A pleasant hotel, friendly staff, breakfast was well presented, nice size rooms to relax in. Hotel well located so you could walk to the local POI.

Middle of town. Easy to walk around. Convenient location. Across the street from the tram that takes you to the spa. Didn’t eat at the restaurant cause checked in too late. But several others within walking distance. The lift is the size of a bathtub. One person and bag per trip otherwise a nice clean quiet place

Unless there’s somewhere special I have in mind, I tend to have a habit of patronising the restaurant attached to the accommodation I have booked. At this stage I have only booked a single night in Spa. At dinner I notice there are no ashtrays on the tables. I ask if this is a smoke free restaurant. The waiter tells me that at the moment no one is smoking, but they are allowed to smoke if they wish. I ask if I can move if someone starts smoking. No! Once you sit down, you cannot move. {emphasis on the full stop} Okay, so I’m paying over $100 for dinner and if some inconsiderate wants to smoke and ruin my night, then I have to just suck it all up. After that conversation, the waiter now serves me without eye contact. The food is placed on the table, he utters something in French and briskly walks away. There is no explanation as to what is in the soup of the day. The table next to me appears to have ordered soup of the day as well, but it is a completely different colour. So did I get yesterday’s leftovers. To those who speak French he jokes and smiles – the ultimate shmoozer. In the French part of Belgium, no one seems to speak English. Not an issue – it’s their country – but the change from the Dutch part to the French part is interesting. I am now looked down upon for not speaking their local language. I get the whole language thing, but as an Australian coming to Europe for a couple of months, am I really expected to learn 5 or 6 differnt languages to make everyone happy. As to the waiter; his shoes are cheap; his pants are too long as he can’t be bothered taking them up and they are sliding down under his pot belly since he’s not wearing a belt. Yet somewhere in his mind he is above me in status without knowing a single thing about me. After both waiters ignore me for ages, he finally comes to collect my glass. He looks at me with raised eyebrows. There is no verbalised question as to whether I would like another glass of wine, more a disdainful look – he will not lower himself to utter words to someone less than himself. I request another glass and ask if it could be in a bigger glass, explaining that Pinot Noir needs to breathe – I was initially served a much smaller glass than every other table. Hmmpph. Okay He placed the glass on my table and walked away as quickly as he could with no eye contact. I raised my palms to the sky in exasperation as he walked away. He approached me a few minutes later and told me that his fellow waitress had claimed I was still asking him a question when he walked away. I explained why I felt aggrieved and he told me that he was sorry I had interpreted things this way. After dinner I walk across the square to anothet hotel who gives me an air conditioned room for 10% less for the following night.