In the history of the Hôtel du Cap-Eden-Roc, there is a small detail I like better than any of its glittering guest lists. When the Duke and Duchess of Windsor came to the Riviera, the hotel's legendary owner, André Sella, went down to the station at Antibes to meet them himself. The Duke had given up a throne in 1936, and the Sella family guaranteed him what a man in his position wanted most from a hotel: the freedom to be left entirely alone.
The iconic tree-lined driveway of the Hôtel du Cap-Eden-Roc in Cap d'Antibes. It was here that André Sella welcomed the 20th century's most distinguished guests, offering them what matters most in a grand hotel: absolute discretion and the quiet feeling of a private residence.
Image source: Einfahrt Hotel Du Cap-Eden-Roc, Antibes, Frankreich, Author: John Jason Junior. Wikimedia Commons
It is easy to think of the great European grand hotels as merely a matter of marble floors, pressed linen, and sweeping sea views. But the visionaries who built them understood that they were selling something far quieter and more precious: the feeling of being looked after by a household that never lets you see the machinery.
An arrangement like that, however, always has two sides. The hotel does its part, and the guest is expected to do his. Nobody prints the guest's half of the contract anywhere. This is precisely why so many people who can easily afford the room never quite master the art of inhabiting it.
What follows is an attempt to write that unwritten code down. First, though, a little history—because the rules only make sense once you know what kind of places they were created for.
How Europe Learned to Stay
The habit of going somewhere beautiful and staying for weeks is younger than it looks. It begins, like a surprising amount of European leisure, with the English and their weather. From the second half of the eighteenth century, British aristocrats began wintering in Nice. In 1820, after a hard winter had filled the town with destitute labourers, English residents paid to have them build a seaside walkway, giving the Promenade des Anglais its name. In 1834, Lord Brougham, a former Lord Chancellor, was traveling to Italy when a cholera quarantine stopped him at the River Var. He turned back to the fishing village of Cannes, liked it, built a villa, and his society friends swiftly followed.
The railway did the rest. A journey from London to Nice that had previously taken two arduous weeks came down to under thirty hours, turning the Mediterranean coast into the world's first long-haul luxury destination.
Yet, for decades, it remained strictly a winter refuge. For the Edwardians, January was the absolute height of the Riviera season; sunbathing and summering on the coast were considered thoroughly démodé until tanning came into fashion during the 1920s.
Nice and the Promenade des Anglais, photographed around 1900–1909. By then, the Riviera was already becoming Europe's great winter playground.
Image: Raphael Tuck & Sons / Leonard A. Lauder Collection, Wikimedia Commons — Public Domain.
Historic Anchors of European Hospitality:
Hôtel du Cap-Eden-Roc (Cap d'Antibes): Opened in 1870 as Villa Soleil and developed by Antoine and André Sella from 1887. Immortalized by F. Scott Fitzgerald and Slim Aarons, it became a sanctuary for royalty, artists, and screen icons where discretion was the primary currency.
Badrutt's Palace (St. Moritz): Opened in 1896 by Caspar Badrutt and expanded by Andrea Badrutt in the 1960s. A pioneer of Alpine winter tourism, it hosted Marlene Dietrich, Josephine Baker, and Alfred Hitchcock, who plotted films in Suite 501.
Gritti Palace (Venice): Originally a 15th-century palazzo belonging to Doge Andrea Gritti on the Grand Canal. It became a sanctuary for John Ruskin, Ernest Hemingway, and world leaders seeking Venetian tranquility.
Hotel Il Pellicano (Porto Ercole): Founded in 1965 by British aviator Michael Graham and his American wife, Patricia "Patsy" Daszel. A coastal hideaway for European aristocracy on the Argentario peninsula, famously captured in Slim Aarons' iconic photographs.
Meanwhile, the hotels themselves were being reinvented from the inside out. César Ritz, a Swiss farm boy turned hotelier, partnered with the master chef Auguste Escoffier at London’s Savoy in 1889. Together, they attracted respectable society women to dine in public restaurants for the first time. In 1898, Ritz opened his own house on the Place Vendôme in Paris—built behind the façade of an eighteenth-century town house, it was among the first hotels in Europe to feature a private bathroom, telephone, and electric light in every room. A book published in 1908 recorded the fundamental maxim his empire ran on: le client n'a jamais tort—the guest is never wrong. It is a generous rule; yet the guests who lean on it hardest are almost always the ones who deserve it least.
High in the Swiss Alps, another dynasty was shaping the calendar. In the autumn of 1864, Johannes Badrutt, who ran a modest summer inn in St. Moritz, made a famous bet with four of his English summer guests. He claimed the Engadine winter sun was so intense that they could enjoy it in short sleeves, offering to cover all their travel costs if he were proven wrong. The Englishmen came at Christmas and stayed until Easter, sunburnt and converted. Badrutt's son, Caspar, opened the turreted Palace Hotel in 1896. Decades later, under Andrea Badrutt, it became the winter capital of the international Jet Set, drawing Marlene Dietrich, Josephine Baker, and Alfred Hitchcock.
"At their best, the grand hotels never lost the manners of a private house. You are not a customer at a counter; you are a guest under someone's roof—and the roof happens to be very beautiful."
Then, during the 1920s, the season turned upside down. In 1923, Gerald and Sara Murphy, rich and stylish Americans, persuaded the Hôtel du Cap to stay open during the summer. Sara famously sunbathed on the rocks with her pearls draped down her back, remarking that the pearls needed sun too. F. Scott Fitzgerald soon transformed the property into the Hôtel des Étrangers in Tender Is the Night—describing it as "a large, proud, rose-colored hotel." The Riviera had found its summer soul.
By the late 1950s and 1960s, jet travel brought about the golden era of European resort culture. In 1955, Alfred Hitchcock placed Cary Grant and Grace Kelly among the Riviera's wealthy visitors in To Catch a Thief. Kelly met Prince Rainier of Monaco that same year during the Cannes Film Festival, marrying him in 1956.
Brigitte Bardot and Sami Frey aboard a classic Riva motorboat in Saint-Tropez, 1963.
Photograph by Michel Royon, via Wikimedia Commons. Public domain.
In Venice, the Gritti Palace—a 15th-century palazzo on the Grand Canal that had once belonged to Doge Andrea Gritti and sheltered John Ruskin while he wrote The Stones of Venice—passed to the CIGA group in 1947. There, Ernest Hemingway wrote parts of Across the River and into the Trees over late-night Americanos.
And in 1965, Michael Graham and Patsy Daszel carved out Il Pellicano on a cliff at Porto Ercole along the secluded Tuscan coast. Between 1967 and 1991, photographer Slim Aarons returned constantly to capture its world: guests on yellow-and-white striped towels, an Agnelli here, a Chaplin there (Charlie Chaplin owned one of the cottages). A vast portion of the world's vision of mid-century Italian glamour was formed right beside that saltwater pool.
What strikes me most about these legendary institutions is how many of them began as private homes. The Hôtel du Cap started as Villa Soleil, a sanctuary for writers imagined by the founder of Le Figaro. The Gritti was a doge's home. Ritz built in Paris on the foundations of two private mansions. At their best, grand hotels have never lost the manners of a private estate. This is the key to everything that follows: you are not merely a customer at a transaction desk. You are a guest under someone’s roof, and that roof happens to be extraordinary.
Riccione, Italian Riviera, circa 1960. A glimpse of the golden age of European seaside culture.
Via Wikimedia Commons. Public domain.
The Symmetry of Respect & The Staff
The first rule of hotel etiquette is the simplest, yet the one most frequently violated by the uninitiated: the staff are not part of the scenery.
The phrase most associated with luxury hospitality—"We are ladies and gentlemen serving ladies and gentlemen"—is often mistakenly credited to César Ritz. It was actually formulated by Horst Schulze, co-founder of the Ritz-Carlton company. Schulze recalled watching a seasoned maître d' while working as a teenage busboy: he realized that a gentleman is defined entirely by how he conducts himself, regardless of the position he occupies. Ferdinand Gillet, the founding spirit behind the international association of concierges, expressed a twin thought: "To serve without being a servant."
The Les Clefs d'Or Ethos: Founded in Paris in 1929 by Pierre Quentin of the Hotel Ambassador, the international association of concierges operates under the motto In Service Through Friendship. The crossed golden keys on their lapels represent an unwritten code: they never accept personal kickbacks for recommendations and prioritize quality and the guest’s genuine well-being above all.
In practice, observing this symmetry of respect requires very little drama:
The reception at Hotel Regina, Stockholm, 1962.
Photograph by Lennart af Petersens, via Wikimedia Commons. Public domain.
Acknowledge Humanity: Read the name on the badge and use it. Say "good morning" or "good evening," and mean it. Keep your speaking voice at a considerate volume.
Work with the Concierge: A concierge wearing the golden keys belongs to a global network capable of orchestrating near-miracles. To get the best out of them, communicate early, state your preferences clearly, and understand that "I will see what I can do" is an honest opening, not a polite brush-off. Do not demand a prime table at a Michelin-starred restaurant at 8:00 PM on a Saturday night with twenty minutes' notice and act aggrieved when it requires effort. Afterward, thank them properly—and in writing if the request was particularly complex.
The Art of the Quiet Complaint: Even in the finest house, something will occasionally go wrong. A good hotel wants to rectify errors immediately, but how you inform them determines the outcome. Ask to speak briefly with the duty manager in private—never make a scene in the lobby. Present the facts as you would to a doctor: objectively, calmly, and without theatrical adjectives. Never resort to threatening a bad online review. The threat is the tool of the insecure, and hotels remember those who use it. In a proper grand hotel, a calm, dignified explanation almost always yields an immediate remedy, a sincere apology, and often a spontaneous gesture of goodwill.
The second half of the unspoken code governs your relationship with fellow guests, who are, after all, part of why people seek out these sanctuaries.
1. The Protection of Privacy
The great hotels of the Riviera, the Alps, and the Italian Lakes earned their legendary status by being places where notable figures could escape public scrutiny. When Gianni Agnelli stepped off his yacht at the Gritti Palace, or when film directors relaxed at Il Pellicano, they were surrounded by guests who understood the rule of absolute social invisibility.
If a world-famous actor, head of state, or artist sits down two tables away from you, you behave exactly as if they were a stranger. You do not stare, point, take covert phone photos, or whisper to your companion—and you certainly never approach their table for an autograph or a selfie. If your eyes meet, a brief, neutral nod is the maximum acceptable acknowledgment. Every guest in the room has purchased the same implicit guarantee: I will respect your peace, and you will respect mine.
2. Digital Restraint and Acoustic Hygiene
Public salons, palm courts, and hotel bars are designed as sanctuaries for conversation and contemplation. Conducting video calls in the lobby, playing voice messages on speaker, or sitting with a laptop open on a low cocktail table in a historic drawing room disrupts the atmosphere for everyone around you. If you must handle business matters, take the call in your private suite or use the business center.
Gstaad, Switzerland. Guests enjoying the outdoor swimming pool of the Palace Hotel, a glimpse of the discreet social world of the grand European hotel. Photograph: Wellcome Collection, via Wikimedia Commons. CC BY 4.0.
Sprezzatura: The Art of Unstudied Elegance: Coined by Baldassare Castiglione in his 1528 manual The Book of the Courtier, sprezzatura denotes a practiced nonchalance that hides the effort behind one's appearance. Gianni Agnelli, a regular at Il Pellicano, was its ultimate 20th-century icon. He famously wore his watch over his shirt cuff and left his button-down collars unpinned. But remember: Agnelli’s look worked only because his clothes were flawlessly tailored by master Milanese craftsmen. Copying the watch trick without the underlying quality results in a costume.
3. Sartorial Appropriateness
Dress in a grand hotel should reflect respect for the architecture, the staff, and your fellow guests. The environment sets the baseline, and your task is to meet it without visible strain. Avoid loud brand logos or ostentatious displays of wealth. Choose clothes defined by cut, proportion, and quiet quality.
The Room, the Bill, and the Bathrobe
A few essential rules apply strictly within the privacy of your suite:
Souvenirs vs. Property
The boundary between a complimentary gesture and property theft is absolute:
Designed to be kept: Travel-sized toiletries, plush disposable slippers, hotel stationery, note pads, and branded pens.
Property of the house: Heavy terrycloth bathrobes, monogrammed towels, leather blotters, brass shoehorns, umbrellas, and decorative cushions.
If you admire the hotel's bathrobe, ask the concierge or boutique to purchase a fresh one. Taking one from the bathroom closet ensures an embarrassing charge on your final bill and quietly damages your standing with the front desk.
"Opting out of daily linen changes during a short stay is no longer viewed as skimping; it is recognized as a mark of environmental maturity and respect for the housekeeping team's workload."
Courtesy to Housekeeping
Class remains visible even when no one is watching. Before checking out, consolidate your trash, gather used towels together on the bathroom tile or in the bathtub, and keep your luggage off the bed linens. Leaving a suite in reasonable order is a simple courtesy to the housekeeper who must prepare the room for the next guest.
The Power of Loyalty
The ultimate distinction in world-class hotel culture is the transition from a casual customer to a regular guest. At Hotel du Cap-Eden-Roc, nearly 80% of the summer clientele consists of returning guests, many representing second or third generations of the same family.
A regular guest enjoys the quiet corner table, the preferred suite, and a genuine welcome from the staff. This status cannot be bought instantly with a large credit limit; it is built over years through consistent courtesy, punctuality, and mutual respect. It is the only rule of hospitality that compounds over time: every polite stay makes the next one infinitely better.
A Field Guide for the Next Check-In
To serve as an evergreen reference for your future travels, here is a practical compendium of hotel etiquette:
1. Arrival & Communication
State your context early: Upon check-in, mention relevant details once—a late flight, an anniversary, or a preference for a quiet room away from the elevator. Grand hotels excel at utilizing information delivered calmly.
Manage dining reservations: If you reserve a table at the hotel’s main restaurant, keep it precisely. If your plans change, cancel hours in advance. Empty tables caused by no-shows are the ultimate irritation for a busy kitchen and maître d'.
2. The Geography of Dress
Hotel Mediterráneo, Palma de Mallorca, 1963. A glimpse of the discreet resort culture of the era.
Via Wikimedia Commons.
Morning & Pool (Resort Casual): Swimwear, flip-flops, and bathrobes are restricted entirely to the spa, pool, and the direct path between them. For breakfast in the main dining room, wear a linen shirt, polo, or tailored shorts for men, and a light summer dress or tailored separates for women. Shoes are mandatory.
Afternoon (Smart Casual): In the lobby, tea room, or gardens, choose pressed linen, tailored trousers, loafers, or refined sandals. Leave gym clothes and running shoes in your room.
Evening after 18:00 (Elegant / Formal): In historic European houses, a tailored jacket is the safest baseline for gentlemen (with a tie in traditional dining rooms). For ladies, an elegant cocktail dress, evening suit, or refined tailoring is appropriate. When in doubt, dress one step above the room. A jacket can easily be removed; a missing one cannot be magically produced.
3. The Evergreen Tipping Matrix
In European grand hotels, service is legally and traditionally incorporated into the bill (service compris / servizio incluso). Tipping is a discretionary gesture of gratitude for exemplary attention. To remain timeless across currencies and inflation, follow the Proportional Percentage Rule:
Dining & Bars: 5% to 10% of the bill. 5% reflects full satisfaction for standard service; 10% is reserved for exceptional fine dining. If a service charge is already itemized on the bill, simply round up to the nearest convenient sum.
Housekeeping: 0.5% to 1% of the daily room rate per night. This automatically scales with the standard of the hotel. Leave cash daily on the nightstand or desk with a brief thank-you note to accommodate staff shift rotations.
Concierge (Les Clefs d'Or): Simple directions require no tip. For securing sold-out opera tickets or hard-to-get Michelin tables, hand over 5% to 10% of the value of the secured booking in a discreet envelope.
Porters & Doormen: A modest cash handoff per bag delivered directly to your room, or for securing private transport in difficult weather.
4. Managing Operational Discrepancies
Request a private audience: Ask to speak with the duty manager in a quiet room away from public sight.
Stick strictly to facts: Describe the situation clearly, calmly, and without raising your voice or resorting to dramatic exaggerations.
Allow the hotel to respond: Professional hoteliers take immense pride in resolving issues. Give them the opportunity to make amends, and accept their solution gracefully.
5. Interacting with Public Figures
Practice total invisibility: Do not stare, request autographs, or attempt uninvited conversation.
Preserve the sanctuary: Allow notable guests to enjoy the same peace and anonymity that brought you to the hotel in the first place.
The Other Half of the Arrangement
I keep coming back to the image of André Sella standing on the train platform at Antibes, waiting for the Duke of Windsor. A great hotelier does not go down to the station simply because his guest holds a title. He goes because he wants the guest to have an effortless stay, and because he knows how much of hospitality depends on the first five minutes.
The guest's part in this timeless arrangement is to make that hosting effortless: to be quiet, punctual, courteous, unimpressed by fame, and appreciative in ways that cost very little. If you play your part well, the hotel will be genuinely glad to see you return next summer. And a guest who is greeted by name on the platform, in the end, has earned that welcome one polite stay at a time.