What hurt the most was the fact that we had to exchange two RCI weeks of our own five-star resort to obtain one week in Hotel “Woe Be Gone." It's beautifully nestled in a part of town that, let's just say, isn't going to make the top ten list of your tourist guide. You're certain to find no notable attractions in the vicinity. Our suite was like a minimalist dream. Think 'sparse chic' with the chic missing, with a simple bed, two chairs, and a table that surely had its glory days in the 1980s. The kitchenette was an ode to improvisation, sporting a hotplate, a microwave, and a sink that's just large enough to bathe a hamster. And the crockery? Two mismatched glasses and bowls that were straight out of an abstract art exhibit - a true toast to our spirit of embracing uniqueness. The toilet, on the other hand, came with a charming little water feature – a constant trickle from the cistern that was just like being beside a babbling brook, minus the charm, tranquility or any sense of joy. Looking for a food store? Brush up on your Frogger skills because it’s twenty minutes and two hazardous highway crossings away. Oh, the on-site restaurant? More of a phantom eatery, really. It keeps the suspense by closing on weekends. However, their French espresso managed to shine - a lone beacon in an otherwise murky culinary landscape. Transport? No problem, if you're okay with parting with a modest sum of 30 euros every time you want to escape to town. In the end, we decided to vote ourselves off the island after two days, and instead took up the infinitely more delightful task of exploring Provence.
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