Escape to Paradise: Stunning Moulins-Engilbert Holiday Home with Dream Garden!
Escape to Paradise: A Review (Or, How I Found Heaven in Moulins-Engilbert… and Almost Ate a Bad Croissant)
Okay, folks, buckle up. This isn't your typical sterile hotel review. This is the real deal. I've just returned from a stay at the "Escape to Paradise: Stunning Moulins-Engilbert Holiday Home with Dream Garden!" and I'm still unpacking… both my suitcase and my emotions. This place… it’s something else. Here’s the messy, honest truth, warts and all.
Accessibility: (And the Stairs That Nearly Killed Me… Metaphorically)
First off, accessibility. They say they offer facilities for disabled guests. That's reassuring, right? But the reality? Well, it's a bit… French. Let's just say those charming stone steps leading up to the main entrance… whew. Fine for me, spry as I am, but if you're relying on a wheelchair? Call ahead, confirm, and maybe pack a sherpa. I didn't have to use the elevators, but I saw them and made sure they were working. Thankfully, the room was perfectly placed, so I didn't have to use the elevators. But it's something to be aware of. They had a ramp in other areas, but still. French charm, right?
On-Site Eats & Booze: (Where the Croissant Almost Betrayed Me)
Right. Let's talk food. Because let’s be honest, that’s usually the most important part, right? They have "Restaurants" and several other options, and that's great! I love places that prioritize food as much as they prioritize everything else.
- Restaurants: They have a few options. A la carte, buffet, and others. I was really happy to see Asian cuisine, if I'm honest.
- Breakfast: The buffet was… well, it had its moments. The croissants? Ah, the croissants. One morning, almost a disaster. I took a bite, and…let's just say, I'm pretty sure I tasted disappointment. But! The next day? Perfection. Flaky, buttery, heaven on a plate. See, the imperfection is part of the charm, folks. It's like a relationship.
- Other Goodies: They had a poolside bar, but I'm not a pool person. The coffee was strong, the happy hour was lively, and the desserts… well, let's just say my diet took a holiday.
Wheelchair Accessibility, Internet, & Other Essentials (Because We Can't Live Without Netflix)
- Internet: Free Wi-Fi in all rooms! Thank the heavens. I needed to upload my Instagram stories, and the connection was solid. They also have LAN but… who uses that anymore? It's 2024, people. Live a little!
- More Techy Stuff: Yes, they had internet services, so you can definitely stream.
- Public Wi-Fi: Available in public areas, so one can work outside and get a tan.
- Essential Items: Oh, and they have cash withdrawal, a convenience store, and facilities for disabled guests.
Things to Do & Ways to Relax (Where I Forgot My Troubles)
This is where Escape to Paradise truly shines! Now, I'm not one for all that pampering stuff, but…
- Spa, Spa, Spa! They have everything! A sauna, a steamroom, even a pool with a view. I went for a massage. Pure bliss. I nearly fell asleep mid-rubdown. The massage therapist (a lovely woman named Marie, I believe) kneaded my knots into oblivion.
- Pool Time: The outdoor pool? Stunning. Serene. I spent a whole afternoon just floating, staring at the sky, and feeling like a million bucks.
- Fitness Center: I, begrudgingly, "worked out" here. They have the basics.
- Other Activities: Body scrubs, body wraps, foot baths… all the stuff I usually avoid. But maybe I'll try it next time.
Cleanliness & Safety
I'm a bit of a germaphobe, so this was crucial.
- Safety First! They had anti-viral cleaning products, daily disinfection in common areas (phew!), hand sanitizer everywhere. All good things.
- Room Sanctuaries: The room was immaculate. They use professional-grade sanitizing services, and the rooms are sanitized between stays. Comforting stuff.
- Other Security Measures: CCTV, smoke alarms, a fire extinguisher…all the basics.
Dining, Drinking, & Snacking: (More Food Glorious Food)
- Variety: They have options! Asian breakfast, a buffet, the works.
- Bars & More: The poolside bar was there, and they have coffee shops (I think). Restaurants are available, too.
- Convenience: Room service? 24 hours. That’s helpful. I didn't use it, but maybe next time for a nightcap.
- Other Options: They have salad, soup, and more. Vegetarian restaurants.
- Cleanliness: Sanitized kitchen and tableware items, Safe dining setup. All good!
Services & Conveniences (Where They Really Did Make Me Feel Special)
Extras: They had pretty much everything you could ask for. Concierge, dry cleaning, laundry service… They even provide an invoice!
Useful Items: Daily housekeeping, elevators, a doorman.
Other Perks: On-site event hosting, a terrace. Very cool.
Additional services: Air conditioning in public area, audio-visual equipment for special events, business facilities, contact-less check-in/out, currency exchange, food delivery, gift/souvenir shop, indoor venue for special events, ironing service, luggage storage, meeting/banquet facilities, meetings, meeting stationery, outdoor venue for special events, projector/LED display, safety deposit boxes, smoking area, terrace, Wi-Fi for special events, Xerox/fax in business center, and much more.
For the Kids (If You Must Bring Them)
I don't have kids, but I saw them there, and they seemed happy.
- Family friendly: Babysitting service, kids meal, kids facilities.
- I can assume that they have these: Family/child friendly.
Available in All Rooms (My Cozy Little Nest)
- Comfort: Air conditioning, black-out curtains, a closet, a coffee maker, a mini bar, a refrigerator. The essentials.
- Tech: Free internet, satellite/cable channels, and, thankfully, a good TV to watch the bachelor on.
- Lounging: Bathrobes, slippers, a sofa, and a seating area.
- Beauty: Hair dryer, mirror, toiletries.
- Other good stuff: Alarm clock, complimentary tea, daily housekeeping, desk, extra-long bed, free bottled water, high floor, in-room safe box, interconnecting room(s) available, internet access – LAN, internet access – wireless, ironing facilities, laptop workspace, linens, non-smoking, on-demand movies, private bathroom, reading light, safety/security feature, scale, separate shower/bathtub, shower, smoke detector, socket near the bed, sofa, soundproofing, telephone, towels, umbrella, visual alarm, wake-up service, Wi-Fi [free], window that opens.
- Nice Things: Free bottled water, safe box.
Getting Around (My Taxi Mishap)
- Transport: Airport transfer, taxi service, and Valet parking are available.
The Bottom Line:
Look, "Escape to Paradise" is a pretty accurate name. It's not perfect. There are those steps, and the occasional iffy croissant. But the beauty, the tranquility, the friendly staff… it all adds up to something truly special. It's a place where you can unwind, recharge, and forget about the real world, even if just for a little while.
Would I go back? In a heartbeat. And this time, I'm bringing a box of backup croissants.
Escape to Paradise: Your Private Pool Awaits in this Luxurious Novigrad Villa!
Moulins-Engilbert Mayhem: A Holiday Home Diary (or, How I Almost Lost My Mind in the French Countryside)
Day 1: Arrival of Chaos & Crooked Table Legs
Right. Moulins-Engilbert. Population: Apparently, a lot of sheep. I swear I saw more of them than humans on the drive in. The holiday home… well, the pictures online were slightly enhanced. Let's be honest. Those "lovely garden" photos conveniently omitted the slightly alarming abundance of nettles. And the "modern" kitchen? Bless its heart, it seems to have been furnished circa 1987.
First impressions? The air smells like… fresh. Like, really fresh. My lungs feel suspiciously clean. I'm already suspicious of the lack of actual internet. (Apparently, "high-speed" here means "snail-paced, occasionally connecting, and mostly taunting you from the heavens.")
Unpacked (mostly), and then disaster struck. The table in the main living area. Oh, the table. Turns out, it has a severe leg-shaking problem. I'm pretty sure one leg is shorter than the other. This is going to be a thing, isn't it? My first mental image: Me, forever balancing glasses of wine on increasingly precarious stacks of books.
- Evening Meal: Made a half-hearted attempt at Coq au Vin (frozen vegetables + store-bought sauce, don't judge me!). Sat at the wobbly table, contemplating the existential dread of mismatched furniture. Wine helped. A lot. Also, discovered the French channel with the endless repeats of "Top Gear." Bonus points.
- Emotional Reaction: Overwhelmed by the sheer effort of getting here, and soothed by the quiet. Like, a real, genuine, shut-up-and-listen-to-the-birds kind of quiet. Then, mildly irritated by the table.
- Quirky Observation: The light switch is in a place that defies logic. You have to practically climb the wall to find it. This is going to be a challenge later on.
- Minor Category: Grocery Run: Found the local boulangerie. Bread? Magnificent. Butter? Divine. Cheese? Oh, the cheese. This place is a cheese-lover's paradise. My diet is already doomed.
Day 2: Biking, Bargaining & Breaking a Vase (Oops)
Right, decided to embrace the local culture. Rented some bikes. "Gentle countryside ride," they said. "Refreshing," they promised. They neglected to mention the hills. Jesus Christ, the hills. I think I've aged ten years in a single afternoon. My thighs are screaming. This French countryside is not messing around.
Lunch was at a tiny, dusty little bistro in a town that looked like it had barely made it out of the Middle Ages. Delicious. The waitress was a tiny, wizened woman with eyes that could see right through you. I'm convinced she was judging my inability to speak more than three words of French. But, hey, the food! Magnifique!
Tried bargaining for a souvenir. Turns out, French bargaining is a whole other level. Ended up paying almost full price for a chipped ceramic rooster. But, in my defense, it was a very charming, slightly wonky ceramic rooster.
- Afternoon of Disaster: Back at the house… Well. A vase. A beautiful, probably antique, vase. The same, wobbly, god-awful table. A clumsy reach. A deafening crash. I'm now hiding the shards in the garden. Praying no one notices. My inner voice is screaming: "You clumsy oaf!"
- Evening Meal: Pizza, because I’m officially too exhausted to cook anything remotely sophisticated. Pizza & silent contemplation of the vase incident.
- Emotional Reaction: A potent cocktail of aching muscles, simmering guilt, and a sneaking suspicion I’m going to be eating pasta for the rest of the trip. But also… a strange and undeniable feeling of peace.
- Quirky Observation: The French seem to have a thing about gates. Every single house has a gate. And, judging by the rusty ones, they haven’t been used in decades.
- Rambling Thought: This whole experience… it’s like a very charming, slightly chaotic French novel. I'm the protagonist, and the plot is unfolding in real-time, with me tripping over things and eating too much cheese.
Day 3: The Market, The Melancholy & The Mastering of the Table
Today: the market. Oh, the market! A riot of colours, smells, and… more food. Fresh vegetables (yay!), mountains of cheese (oh, dear), and enough sausage to feed a small army. I bought way too much stuff, as usual.
The afternoon was… well, a bit gloomy. Sat in the garden, nursing a coffee (instant, sigh) and watching the clouds roll in. A wave of… well, I don’t know if it was melancholy, but something heavy. The quiet of the countryside can be beautiful, but also, it can amplify your thoughts, your doubts. Suddenly, I missed… everything. My friends, my life back home, the internet.
Then I got to work on the table. Found a few strategically placed rocks (a very elegant solution, I know). And, lo and behold, the table now stands relatively stable. Victory is mine!
- Evening Meal: Omelette – made with the ridiculously fresh eggs bought at the market. Ate it at my newly-stable table. Feeling a bit more… centered.
- Emotional Reaction: A rollercoaster. Up, then down, then back up again. The beauty of the countryside, the simple pleasures, they do cut through the noise, eventually.
- Quirky Observation: The local cats. They are everywhere, but they seem utterly indifferent to humans. They'll saunter past you, giving you a look that says, "You’re in my territory, human."
- Doubling Down on an Experience: The Cheese: I visited the cheese seller again. Got a local, pungent, runny cheese that the woman literally insisted I try with fresh bread. It was… an explosion of flavour. I might have wept a little. The smell… it’s still clinging to my fingers. Worth it.
Day 4: Exploring, Epiphanies & Exhaustion
Took a drive! Explored some of the nearby villages. They were ridiculously charming, with cobblestone streets and medieval churches… and I was able to get SOME 4G signal from a strategically placed hilltop (winning!). It also rained. A proper downpour.
Had an epiphany. (Well, maybe not an epiphany, but a… a realization). I’ve been trying to do too much, cramming every second with sightseeing, and trying to be the perfect traveller. Sometimes, it’s okay to just… be. To sit, to stare, to be a bit useless.
Packed up some stuff. I'm starting to not hate the place.
- Evening Meal: Leftovers (surprise!). Found a bottle of local wine I hadn't touched. It was surprisingly good. Or maybe it was the accumulated exhaustion making it taste better.
- Emotional Reaction: A quiet contentment. I’m starting to feel… less like a tourist and more like a… temporary resident of this slightly wonky, slightly charming corner of France.
- Quirky Observation: The number of shutters on the windows. Every single house has them. And they're always closed, even when it's sunny. Is this a French secret, or what?
- Rambling Thought: Maybe, just maybe, this whole trip was exactly what I needed. A messy, imperfect, cheese-filled escape from the crazy of modern life. And the table… well, the table is still slightly wobbly. But it’s my wobbly table. And I kinda love it, now.
Day 5: Departure & (Almost) Missing My Train
Packing. Ugh. The anticipation of getting back to 'civilization'.
- Morning: I made a breakfast of bacon n' eggs, a final ode to the countryside life.
- The Rush: Left for the train, with almost no time left. I ran with my suitcase.
- Conclusion: Bye Bye France, I'll miss it. I'll be back.
Escape to Paradise: Or, How I Survived (and Maybe Loved) Moulins-Engilbert
Okay, so "Dream Garden," huh? Was it REALLY a dream? Because, honestly, my back's seen better days after a week of gardening.
Alright, alright, let's be real. "Dream Garden"... it's a strong statement. It WAS lovely. Seriously, the photos are not exaggerating the initial wow factor. Think sprawling lawns, roses that smelled like a perfume factory exploded (in the best way), and that impossibly blue swimming pool that practically begged you to jump in.
But DREAM? Maybe not. My back aches. More than a little. I spent a good chunk of that first afternoon trying to identify the difference between a weed and a particularly enthusiastic wildflower. Spoiler alert: I failed. Also, the "gentle slope" down to the pool turned out to be, well, a slope. A slightly treacherous, gravelly slope after a rainstorm. Tripped a couple of times. Mortifying. But the view? The view was a dream. Okay, maybe it was a dream.
The house itself… what's the deal? Is it all chintz and doilies, or is it actually livable?
Okay, this is important. Because you know, you see those pictures and you're thinking, "Oh God, it's going to be like staying at Grandma's house." And listen, Grandma is wonderful, but sometimes the decor is… well, dated.
This house? It's charm-filled, not suffocating. Think exposed stone walls, a huge fireplace that actually *works* (godsend in the evenings!), and a kitchen that, blessedly, isn't filled with ancient, unreliable appliances. There are modern touches, thank the heavens, like a decent Wi-Fi connection (essential for looking up how to identify weeds, obviously) and a seriously comfortable bed. The only downside? The stairs. Ooof, the stairs. If you're someone who likes to wander in the middle of the night, you are going to have a LOT of adventures.
Moulins-Engilbert... Where even IS that? What is there to DO?
Right, so Moulins-Engilbert. Picture this: rolling hills, charming little villages, and a pace of life that's about a hundred times slower than whatever chaotic mess you're used to. It’s in the Nièvre region of France, smack-dab in the middle of… well, not a whole lot, to be honest. Which, honestly? Is the point. This is *escape* territory.
But still, you need *something* to do, right? The market on Saturday mornings is adorable (and the cheese… oh, the cheese!). There are walking trails galore, perfect for working off all that delicious food I inevitably ate. And if you're feeling adventurous, you can drive to some nearby towns like Vezelay (UNESCO World Heritage site, very fancy) or even Dijon (mustard central!). Or, you know, just sit on the porch with a glass of wine and contemplate the meaning of life. That's an option, too. I did that quite a bit.
The pool. Tell me more about the pool. Because I *need* the pool.
Alright, let's dive into the pool experience. It was… glorious. Seriously. That first day, I just stood there, staring. It was sparkling, inviting, and the perfect temperature. The view from the pool, with the rolling hills in the background, was pure Instagram fodder (and yes, I took full advantage).
Now, the cold, hard truth: I am not a graceful swimmer. More of a flailer, really. The pool was deep, really deep, so I mostly stayed in the shallows. Also, there was a very persistent bee that seemed determined to share the pool with me. Bees and me, we don't get along. I spent way too much time dodging that darn bee. But despite the bee, the pool was definitely a highlight. Pure bliss, except for the occasional near-drowning experience. Which, let's be honest, added a certain *je ne sais quoi*.
Was it truly relaxing? Or was it secretly a disaster?
Disaster? No. But… relaxed? That's complicated. Let me preface this by saying I am a terrible relaxer. I'm the type who feels guilty for *not* doing something. Initial relaxation involved a near fight with my travel buddy over who gets to use the good coffee machine (I won). Second, the slow pace of the village was hard to adjust to. Everything is closed, you need to plan ahead, or you will be stuck on your own resources. We got lost. A LOT. And the GPS, bless its digital heart, was not entirely reliable on those winding French roads.
BUT. Despite the coffee drama, the getting lost, and my constant worrying about the bee, I did, eventually, unwind. The sheer beauty of the place, the quiet evenings spent cooking in the kitchen (I’m no chef, but I made a decent pasta), and the feeling of being completely detached from the world… that was the real magic. I think I managed to breathe deeply for the first time in months. So, yeah. Definitely worth it, even with the imperfections. And the damn bee.
Anything I should *really* watch out for? Like, beyond the bee?
Okay, some practical (and potentially embarrassing) tips:
- Bugs: Bring bug spray. Seriously. Those little critters are relentless, especially in the evenings. Also, if you're like me and scream at the sight of a spider, be prepared to scream. A lot.
- Driving: The roads are narrow, and the locals drive fast. Be patient, take your time, and don't be afraid to pull over to let people pass. And for heaven's sake, learn how to say "Je suis désolé" (I'm sorry) in French. You'll need it.
- Shopping: The local shops close for lunch. And on Sundays. And sometimes, seemingly, just because they feel like it. Plan ahead, or embrace the art of improvisation (and maybe a LOT of instant noodles).
- The Steepness: Be prepared for some steep slopes and stairs. If you have mobility issues, this might not be the place for you. Or, you know, just take it slow.
- The Cheese: Don't overdo it. Seriously. You'll think you can eat a whole wheel in one sitting. You can't. Your stomach, and your sanity, will thank you for restraint. But still... try all of it.
Oh, and one more thing: take your camera. And don't worry about looking picture-perfect. Embrace the mess, the imperfections, and the sheer joy of being somewhere beautiful. It's what makes the "dream" a memorable reality.
