PUTTING ON THE RITZ
Putting on the Ritz - Luxury Travel Magazine
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Putting on the Ritz | |||||
| By: Hilary Doling, Issue 32 – Spring 2007 | |||||
| (The Ritz – London) | |||||
| IF THERE IS ONE HOTEL LUXURY-LOVERS SHOULD STAY IN AT LEAST ONCE IN THEIR LIVES, IT HAS TO BE THE LEGENDARY THE RITZ LONDON. | |||||
| Ritzy: (slang) adj: stylish, elegant, ostentatiously rich. There is a reason the word ‘ritzy’ was created in homage to the hotels of Cesar Ritz. Walk through the revolving doors of The Ritz London and you have time-warped into a world of elegant excess. Of all London’s grand hotels this is the most opulent. There is no British reserve here, no stiff upper lip; The Ritz is a theatrical event. Modeled on a French chateau with furnishings in the style of Louis XVI, this is a flamboyant hotel. If it were a woman it would definitely like admiring itself in the glass: there are mirrors everywhere, and fountains and statues and a riot of 24-carat gold leaf. The staff is both formal and friendly; they wear tailcoats, white gloves and waistcoats or epaulets and gold braid. You get the feeling they know they are part of the show. Magically within minutes everyone knows your name. I almost forget I am a guest and imagine this is my own city residence with footmen and butlers and a cook below stairs. No wonder the aristocracy have always felt at home here, as have generations of royalty, after all The Ritz is just round the corner from Buckingham Palace – so convenient. From the 1930s stars of the stage and silver screen mixed here with the upper crust at gloriously decadent parties. There is an old photo of Tallulah Bankhead drinking champagne out of a shoe. Rooms at The Ritz are decorated in shades of pastel to go with the creamy curved furniture. Below my window couples stroll in Green Park on one of the few good days of last Summer, and double-decker red buses and black taxis like shiny beetles plough along Piccadilly – a consummate London scene. The Ritz is perfectly placed for a London sojourn, right across the road from the Royal Academy and a diamond sparkle from De Beers and the designer delights of Old Bond Street. Taking tea at The Ritz is one of London’s consummate experiences, which is probably why these days it is wise to book at least a month in advance even if you are staying at the hotel. There are now four sittings, including a champagne tea at 7.30pm. Cakes, scones and cucumber sandwiches (of course) sit serenely on tiered cake stands and only the finest tea, such as Darjeeling First Flush or Ritz Royal English is served. All around is the hum of polite conversation and the gentle clinking of silver spoons in bone china cups. The Queen Mother was fond of taking tea here. She hated to use a stick even in her advancing years and was once rumoured to have remarked when walking down the Palm Court steps, “One could do with a handrail here” – hence the elaborately curved brass rail there now. This is the kind of hotel that still has a formal dress code in its restaurants and bars, ‘gentlemen are required to wear a jacket and tie’ and no jeans/and or trainers are permitted. If you have a bespoke Saville Row suit, this is the place to wear it. In The Ritz restaurant you’ll find people looking around as often as they look at their plate because the vast room has been celebrated as ‘the world’s most beautiful dining room’ – and it probably is. A ring of chandeliers dripping with crystal and gold are linked by garlands of gold leaf around a mural painted ceiling, floor to ceiling mirrors reflect the tall French windows. We sit at a corner table with its crisp linen tablecloth and let the evening unfold before us. There is plenty of time to survey the scene since we’ve ordered the chef’s specially created five-course tasting menu, which includes foie gras and beef Wellington, which the head sommelier has matched with appropriate wines. Early in the evening the summer light still filters through the windows. By 9pm the place has a golden glow as the candles flicker. A string quartet begins to play, then a pianist on a baby grand as waiters, their rank denoted by the colour of their waistcoat, flit between the tables and lift silver cloches off main courses with a theatrical flourish. It is like watching something out of a Merchant Ivory period production. They still have dinner dances here on Fridays and Saturdays and although you’d expect them to be attended only by people of a ‘certain age’, the dances are a surprise hit among London’s smart young things yearning for the romance of yesteryear. When Cesar Ritz first built the hotel back in 1906 it was his ambition to buy the house next door, once the home of Lord Wimbourne, and make it part of the hotel: he never managed it. Now 101 years later the new owners have fulfilled his dream and the house is now a newly opened, and elegant extension to the main hotel, housing some of its most extravagant suites and meeting rooms. The William Kent Room for example, has opulent crimson silk walls and a gold leaf ceiling; upstairs the Royal Suite, with its lemon-pale sitting room with panelling and oil paintings, has a secret staircase leading to an oval bedroom with a canopied bed. The Prince of Wales suite has two bedrooms and a dining room fit for a private banquet. A bright Ritz-Blue Rolls Royce Phantom is on hand to take guests wherever they want to go. It glides to a halt underneath the hotel’s matching blue canopy and I step in. Like the hotel, the car is a reminder of more elegant times with its polished mahogany, deep leather seats and windows that whisper shut to silence the city. However the chauffeur Winston (“named after Churchill Madame”), who obviously loves the car with a passion points out it has a far from old-fashioned engine under its beautiful bonnet: “0 to 60 in 5.7 seconds,” he say proudly. Sadly the London traffic won’t allow him to prove it and we proceed at a stately pace. There is a Queen’s garden party on at Buckingham Palace so the police checkpoint is stopping cars. Not us though. They salute the car and Winston as we purr past and he salutes back, I am tempted to give a royal wave. “They know me, I often take people to the palace”, says Winston. This time his destination is far less salubrious; at Victoria Station I step back out into the crowds and chaos of London to find my train has been cancelled and I have to wait on the station drinking railway coffee out of a plastic cup until the next one. My Ritz bubble has burst; reality comes flooding in. | |||||
| Details: | |||||
| The Ritz London, 150 Piccadilly, London W1. Details, tel: +44 (0) 20 7493 8181, fax: +44 (0) 20 7493 2687, www.theritzlondon.com, enquire@theritzlondon.com | |||||
| Vroom Vroom Vroom is an online car hire agency that finds you the best price and can supply a luxury rental perfect for pulling up outside The Ritz, www.vroomvroomvroom.com.au | |||||
| London information from VisitBritain, www.visitbritain.com.au Etihad Airlines fly from Sydney to Manchester and Heathrow, www.etihadairways.com | |||||
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