Accent on Living

WHETHER it will work successfully in the heavy tourist traffic of 1953 I1 do not know, but here’s a castiron method which I once devised for chaffering successfully with those formidable women who run the small hotel in France. The method is not for travelers in search of de luxe accommodations, but it will benefit anyone who wants the cheapest room at the absolute rock-bottom price. I tested it in scores of small towns in France, and it never failed to work perfectly.

As a green hand, first going up against a French hotelkeeper, I was disconcerted to find that a hotel simply will not cut a price once the rate has been mentioned. A hotel asking 400 francs for a room becomes quite huffy if one offers 300 francs. All right for the souks of Tunisia, the woman behind the desk implies, but not the way her hotel does business. After being singed once or twice, I gave up on direct haggling, but the problem remained: How could I make sure, if I did get an obviously cheap room, that I was getting at the same time the minimum rate?

It became plain to me that the key to it all lay in the sequence of my questions, especially as they bore on the matter of ’eau courante.

How, for instance, to achieve the room without running water and at. the same time make it impossible for the woman to exact from me the price of a room with running water? Here, without further ado, is the unbeatable formula for the thrifty.

A man needs a car of his own to get the best out of my system, and it’s really for the motorist. Let us envision him, then, as he pulls up in front of a small-town hotel. A porter or man-of-all-work comes bustling out and tries to assist with the luggage

Here in the very beginning the American must take firm control. Touch nothing. Leave everything there. Stop. Halt. It necessitates me first, he tells the porter, to demand the price of t he room.

The tourist then busies himself briefly about his car, giving the porter a chance to go back inside and announce the arrival to the patronne. Not having sat in on one of their conferences, I can only guess at its content. But I think it reasonable to believe that the porter announces a couple of Americans, looking for lodgings, but by no means on the hook. They won’t even let him unpack the car. The hotel is on notice that the traveler is far from looking like a sure thing at this stage. This puts the patronne a shade off balance to begin with.

After giving the porter the chance to warn the patronne, the American enters the hotel. He should greet the patronne with a considerable show of manners but some reserve. He will remark the beauty of the village, the fine weather (more likely the heavy rain), and he will seem in no hurry to negotiate.

Eventually: —

Is it that you have a room for two persons? the American asks.

Yes, certainly, yes-yes.

How much is it ?

(That is a pivotal question. All that follows depends on it, and the sequence of these exchanges is allimportant.)

Eight hundred francs.

With running water ?

(This is another key question, even though the American is angling for a room without running water.) Running water? he repeats.

But yes, certainly with running water, hot and cold. Yes-yes.

Excellent, says the American. Then comes the crusher: How much, he asks, for a room without running water?

Too late, the patronne realizes that any monkey business about running water is impossible. She has already divulged t he rate of the running-water room, and she has nowhere to go but down. She is even getting a bit uneasy.

Six hundred francs for a room without running water, says the patronne. But a fine comfortable room just the same, she goes on.

The American must seem to ponder the choice. He knows that she knows that he knows that his luggage is still in the car and t hat he can shove off at any instant. She watches him nervously as he thinks it over,

Finally, with an air of apology and the utmost politeness, he asks the woman if it would derange her to allow him to inspect the room, I his is really more of a stunt than a necessity, but it’s quite exciting to beat that 000-franc figure down another notch or two just for exercise, and more often than not it works. The woman seizes her keys and shows the American to the room.

On inspecting the room, the American must become heavily complimentary: a beautiful chamber; the bed — magnificent! The agreeable visla; the large wardrobe—and everything in such proper order, Just as the patronne Is warming up to these comments, the American tolls her that the room is really more elaborate—larger and more of an undertaking — than he was quite prepared to assume. If only the hole! had some less luxurious room —perhaps at a slightly lower price . . .

The French, as I say, will not come down, once they have stated a price, but the situation now leaves the patronne a full avenue of retreat without loss of countenance. She affects to think for a moment. Is there such a room? Perhaps there is, and she conducts the American to another room, certainly no worse, and she knocks off another 50 francs.

Such a traveler is treated subsequently with respect by all hands in the hotel. “The negotiations have been conducted with correctness. Not even the French enjoy overcharging a customer who isn’t aware of it.