Strasbourg does charge you for the centre. Rooms in the station quarter, in Neudorf and across the German border are reliably cheaper than anything inside the water, and the gap widens sharply whenever the European Parliament sits. What is unusual is how little that premium buys you in distance. The historic core is an island a little over a kilometre long, and the districts pressed against it are five to twenty minutes away on foot or a single tram ride. The money you spend to sleep on the Grande Île buys atmosphere, and the walk home after dinner; it does not buy access, because everyone staying within a couple of kilometres has that already. So the decisions that actually matter here are about noise, about how you intend to arrive with your luggage, and above all about the dates you choose.
The island is smaller than the map suggests
The Ill divides upstream of the old city and closes again to the east, and the ground it encircles is the Grande Île, on the UNESCO World Heritage list since 1988, with the listing extended in 2017 to take in the Neustadt built beyond it under German administration. The island runs to roughly 1.25 kilometres at its longest and about 0.75 kilometres at its broadest: a squat oval rather than a sliver, wide enough to lose your bearings in and small enough to cross without planning.
Its western tip is the Ponts Couverts, with the surviving towers of the medieval defences standing over the water. The Barrage Vauban sits just upstream of that, off the island proper, and its roof terrace gives you the long view back along the millraces that most photographs of the city are taken from; the Musée d'Art moderne et contemporain stands beside it. The eastern end is quieter and much less visited: the two arms of water rejoin around the Quai des Pêcheurs, near the Pont Saint-Guillaume. Walking the island end to end between those two points takes about fifteen minutes at an unhurried pace.
The cathedral stands in the eastern half of the island, not in the middle, which is worth holding in your head while you read hotel listings. Most of the island is within ten minutes of it on foot. Petite France, at the far western end, is nearer a quarter of an hour — still nothing, but not the two minutes a booking page implies.
Transport reinforces the point. Five of the city's six tram lines converge at Homme de Fer, a short walk from Place Kléber and firmly on the island; line E is the exception and skirts the centre entirely, so do not plan a stay around it. At Gare de Strasbourg, lines A and D use the underground platforms beneath the station building, while line C serves the station from street level on the square outside — a distinction you will care about with a case and a train to catch. The centre is largely pedestrianised, obsessively cycled and actively hostile to cars: much of the island is closed to through traffic, hotel parking is scarce and expensive where it exists, and the Eurométropole runs a low-emission zone requiring a Crit'Air windscreen sticker, so confirm the current rules before you drive in. With a car, the sensible move is a CTS park-and-ride site on a tram line — Rotonde, on line A, is the obvious one coming from the west — where a day ticket costing around four to five euros at the time of writing typically covers parking plus return tram travel for everyone in the vehicle, up to about seven people.
Fix your dates before you fix your district
The European Parliament holds plenary sessions in Strasbourg twelve times a year, usually Monday to Thursday. For those four days several thousand members, assistants, officials, journalists and lobbyists arrive in a mid-sized city, and rates rise across the whole of it, not merely around Wacken and the European quarter where the institutions sit. Availability thins, restaurant tables vanish, and a room quoted a fortnight earlier can double. The Parliament publishes its calendar a long way ahead: look at it before you fix anything. Moving your dates costs nothing, while moving district costs you the trip you wanted. Because a sitting runs Monday to Thursday, nudging a booking by a day or two achieves little — shift the whole trip to the week either side.
Trade fairs and congresses at the Palais de la Musique et des Congrès and the exhibition halls beside it do a smaller version of the same thing. December is its own weather system: the Christkindelsmärik, which the city dates to 1570, draws crowds on a scale the local bed stock cannot absorb. Book as far ahead as you can manage; by early autumn the central choice is usually thin and expensive. If you want December and your budget is fixed, sleep off the island. There is no third option.