Mr & Mrs Smith

For many, driving in Paris rates somewhere between a visit to the dentist and replacing a toilet commode. It’s true that the bustling labyrinth of small streets that makes the city so charming for a visiting pedestrian can make it downright perilous for your average suburban driver. As we ventured into the lively Le Marais district, searching for the small cross-street that would take us to the Hotel Duo, we were no exception. We might have missed our turn entirely if not for the young man in an afro wig, fishnet tights and tuxedo jacket that cut us off on his bicycle. He ended up being our beacon, his nearly bare bottom guiding us directly to the hotel’s entrance spare grey entrance.

Our weekend had a simple mission: sanctuary. The distractions that come with kids, too much work and random other household minutiae had caught up with us over the past few months – and the cracks were beginning to show. We needed to find a place free of those diversions where we could focus on each other again. Our drive around the trendy, hopping streets of Le Marais made us wonder if we had picked the right location. Fishnets and afro wigs weren’t exactly what we’d signed on for – and, Le Marais, by its very nature, could be called the Land of Distractions. But once we stepped into the tranquil interior of the Hotel Duo, its calming greens, browns and greys banished that thought. And once we made our way to our room, it was clear: our much-needed sanctuary had been found.

At the Hotel Duo, it’s clear that simplicity is treasured. Designed by architect Jean Philippe Nuel, best known for contemporary redesigns of several chain hotels in Paris, every wall, every stick of furniture and every artifact in the hotel works together to create a soothing, elegant environment. There are no brash colors here, no tricks of light or unexpected changes in the décor to titillate and put you on guard. Instead, you can count on an easy, beautiful design that offers nothing but relaxed comfort. It was exactly what we wanted.

Hotel Duo houses 58 rooms and suites designed with the same philosophy. Our double standard room, with its welcoming white duvet and basic grey walls, was not large but it had all the expected luxuries including a flat-screen television, high-speed Internet access and a marble bath. Outside of the bath, we didn’t use any of them – which, in my mind, defines the weekend as an unqualified success.

Despite the hustle and bustle of Le Marais, it turned out to be a perfect location. Yes, it was busy and a tad loud – but it was within walking distance of many of Paris’ most popular attractions. And we soon found that a little distraction could be a good thing even in seeking that elusive sanctuary. You know, provided it doesn’t involve a small child asking for plasticine fruit snacks just before dinner or work ringing after 10pm. Whenever it got to be too much, simply returning to the sanctuary of Hotel Duo recharged us.

We spent our days exploring the city, finding the experience of getting a little lost on foot quite a bit more enjoyable than our initial drive into the neighbourhood. But we also made use of the well-versed staff for recommendations on things to do in the area. The best of these was Duc Des Lombards, a small jazz club and restaurant a few minutes’ walk from the hotel. We very much enjoyed the Manuel Marches Group featuring Sandra Nkake. Trilling between scat and French lyrics, we barely understood a word. It didn’t matter. As Nkake’s voice moved between her natural, smoky alto up to her higher bird-like imitation of a jazz flute, it seemed she was singing directly to us – singing a song of love, freedom and, yes, sanctuary.

On our last night before returning home, we opted for a quiet drink at Hotel Duo’s own bar instead of another night out. We got to chatting with the young barman, a newlywed who still reveled in Paris’ famed nightlife. As he concocted a nearly perfect Long Island iced tea behind the bar, he gazed longingly in the direction of the busier bars and cafes down the street. And after serving up our drinks, he lamented that, though lovely, perhaps the Hotel Duo was a bit too quiet for his taste.

My partner and I looked at each other and laughed. We could have mentioned that we, too, once sought out as many distractions as possible. We could have mentioned the sounds of home – ones that were likely in his future – that only seem to get louder over time. We could have discussed our newfound appreciation for spots like Hotel Duo, that offer such graceful sanctuary from the somewhat frenzied nature of daily life. But we didn’t. He’ll learn on his own soon enough.