
French Riviera hotels have a habit of reopening every few years with new curtains, a different shade of beige and a press release full of words like “curated” and “timeless.” COMO Hotels and Resorts has gone in another direction with COMO Le Beauvallon, which has just reopened overlooking the Gulf of Saint-Tropez after what sounds like a very expensive and rather meticulous resurrection. And honestly, it looks superb.
The building itself dates back to 1914, from that period when wealthy Europeans decided every decent seaside hotel ought to resemble a palace where someone important might recover from “the season.” Which, apparently, they did. Winston Churchill stayed here. So did Colette and Audrey Hepburn. You can almost picture them wandering about the terraces squinting into the Riviera haze with a cigarette and some vague emotional complication.
And the location still does most of the work, if we’re honest.

The hotel sits above the Gulf of Saint-Tropez in ten acres of palms, lawns and old pine trees, with views that probably make estate agents spontaneously emotional. Down by the water there’s the beach club, Beauvallon Sur Mer, complete with pool, rooftop bar and restaurant, because of course there is. There’s also a private jetty where guests board a COMO speedboat for the eight-minute crossing into Saint-Tropez itself.
Eight minutes sounds about right. Any longer and you’d need a cardigan.

The Riviera has always understood that glamour works best when combined with laziness. Nobody wants to sit in traffic behind rented Lamborghinis when there’s a boat available. Boats are also quieter. Mostly.
The real surprise here, though, is the food. Hotels often promise “culinary destinations” now, which usually translates to one good dessert and a very expensive sea bass. Yannick Alléno appears to have taken the assignment rather seriously.

He now oversees the entire dining programme at COMO Le Beauvallon, from breakfast onwards, and his beach-club restaurant sounds unusually thoughtful. Apparently this is his first actual beach club project, which may explain why it doesn’t immediately descend into clichés involving dry tuna and unnecessary foam.
Instead, he’s mixing Southeast Asian influences with Mediterranean ingredients in a way that sounds oddly sensible once you think about it. Yellowtail tartare with peanuts and Thai basil ice cream. Sea bass crudo with green papaya. Tuna steak with Kampot pepper sauce. There’s confidence in that menu. Also bravery, because ice cream near raw fish can go horribly wrong very quickly.
Alléno himself admitted he felt unexpectedly emotional about the place, which I found rather reassuring. Celebrity chefs usually speak like investment bankers who’ve discovered parsley. Here, there’s at least some sense of affection for the building and its history.

The interiors help enormously. French designer Dorothée Delaye has avoided the usual Riviera trap of making everything look like a scented candle showroom. Instead there are curved iron details, polished woodwork inspired by old yachts and colours that resemble faded postcards left in the glovebox of a Peugeot 504 Cabriolet since 1972.
Which, incidentally, is exactly how the Riviera ought to feel.
The beach club evolves throughout the day from lunch spot into evening lounge with DJs and cocktails and sea views. I’m slightly too old for DJ-led beach lounges now. I reach a point at around 9:45pm where I start wondering whether the hotel serves tea. Still, if you’re going to do that sort of thing, this appears to be an excellent setting for it.

The pool beside the beach club stretches for 25 metres and uses mosaic tiles, because wealthy Europeans remain incapable of building ordinary pools. Nearby sits one of the hotel’s stranger features: the 2002 Serpentine Gallery Pavilion designed by Toyo Ito. Yes, the actual pavilion from London.
It now overlooks the sea on the Riviera, which sounds faintly ridiculous until you see photographs of it. Then it suddenly makes complete sense, like parking an old Citroën SM outside a villa in Cap Ferrat.

Inside the main hotel, things calm down slightly. The Winter Garden restaurant serves Mediterranean dishes with Niçoise influences beneath a large glass ceiling, while the Riviera Terrace — designed by Paola Navone — seems intended for the sort of afternoon where lunch quietly becomes dinner without anybody noticing.
There are only 42 rooms altogether, and that feels sensible. Modern luxury hotels often become gigantic self-contained villages where you need directions to find breakfast. Here, the scale sounds more intimate. The suites face the bay, while the Hillview rooms overlook the Provençal countryside, which honestly may be the better option if you value silence over yachts.

The rooms also contain more than 300 contemporary artworks. Hotels always say this now, although usually they mean there’s a large rusty sculpture near reception. This collection apparently includes installations, sculptures and rare objects spread throughout the property. Enough, at least, to encourage guests to nod thoughtfully while holding wine glasses.
COMO has also included one of its COMO Shambhala Retreat wellness spaces with yoga classes, treatments and holistic therapies. Which is probably useful after several afternoons spent testing the structural integrity of the cocktail menu.
COMO Le Beauvallon starts at €840 per night. Expensive, certainly. But this is the French Riviera, where people routinely spend the price of a family hatchback on a watch designed for wearing near swimming pools. Reservations are now open through COMO Le Beauvallon.





















