27 - Stompin' At The Savoy...

THE SAVOY HOTEL, London

The new Savoy:  view from the mezzanine

 I finally spent the night at the Savoy!

When I moved to England in January of 1969, “Swinging London” was at its zenith, and the Savoy was generally conceded to be THE show business hostelry.  From Noel Coward to Marlene Dietrich to the Rolling Stones and the Beatles, they all made their way sooner or later through the Savoy’s imposing revolving doors.

After a few months of professional floundering, I managed to find employment at United Press International in its waning years as an international news agency.  My job there was officially a desk one, but occasionally allowed me to do feature stories, sometimes of my choosing.

Mercouri, Never on Sunday (google)

Yoko & John (photo George Konig)

 Which accounted for my finding myself sometimes  in more or less direct contact with a handful of show biz luminaries, including Ginger Rogers, John Lennon and Yoko Ono, Elizabeth Taylor (at the apogee of her beauty) and the glamorous Greek actress Melina Mercouri who pinched both my cheeks and said “Oh, how I adore Americans!”  Then, again, did she REALLY pinch my cheeks?  It was one of those film launch cocktail parties for the press, and sometimes I wonder if my memory is to be trusted. 

 Whether walking or riding the No. 13 bus to work just off Fleet Street, I would pass in front of the Savoy’s long driveway off the Strand.  It never occurred to me to look inside.

My life in London was a series of exhilarating discoveries, and I was happy there.  But when I moved to Paris two years later, I hardly ever looked back.  I didn’t return to England until 1986, and this time I did take a stroll through the Savoy’s commanding lobby.  

Mirror effect, Savoy Men's Room 2012

 By now a full blown hotel passioné, I remember trying out their sumptuous toilets.   I was not expecting the old attendant, who in a frenzy of unsolicited attention, proceeded to turn on the water faucet, offer me a hand towel, brush my shoulders –everything but comb my hair and straighten my tie.

Completely taken unawares, I was unprepared with an appropriate gratuity, and consequently unable to enjoy all of this tender loving care. 

I only had a one-pound note which was way too much 30 years ago, but I dropped it in his dish just the same.  It kind of spoiled that first Savoy visit, as I was convinced the veteran gents' attendant had taken me for a hillbilly tourist who didn’t understand the currency.

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By the turn of the 21^st century the Savoy was showing distinct signs of fatigue. In 2007 it closed for an extended, major facelift.  As one international financial crisis followed another, and the renovations failed to get off the ground, it looked for a while as though the hotel were never going to re-open.

But re-open it did, in the Fall of 2010.  The brochure and web site looked stunning, but the prices were higher than ever, and it was not until last October that we finally found a price commensurate with our possibilities. 

Brenda, stompin' ...

 We jumped at the “Sunday Night Special,” which proposed one of their less sensational rooms at a relatively reduced rate along with dinner and breakfast for two.  It meant checking out on Monday (I seem to remember a late check-out among the perks) and moving to a decidedly more humble establishment.

The room was fine, but not quite the mind-blowing experience for which I had hoped.  The food was equally acceptable, perhaps even a bit better. The hotel, itself, however, was really gorgeous, probably better than ever before.  The personnel  was first rate.  Bellboys, doormen, the executive staff, everyone with whom we came into contact gave proof of really serious training and excelled in making guests feel important and appreciated.

So now I’ve finally done it,  I’ve spent the night at the Savoy.  I’ve eaten in their restaurants, sampled their chocolates, investigated their pristine new toilets* (see Hotel Loos photo album, top right), and taken endless strolls throughout their lobby.

It was fun.  I approve.  But the wait was just too long.  I built up too many hopes, and despite a great Sunday evening stay, I can’t banish the Peggy Lee song from my mind:   Is that all there is? :

“If that's all there is my friends, then let's keep dancing … if that’s all there is.”

Important Lalique $130,000 crystal fish fountain sculpture, centerpiece of Savoy entrance

* now manned by young attendants who limit their guest interaction to pointing the way to handtowels.  Their presence is a discreet one, and for someone of my advanced years, they hold no powers of intimidation.  I don’t even remember whether there is any longer a tip dish.

SIDEBAR:  London Photo Album

Here are a few miscellaneous snapshots from that first year in London.  As in the Paris album a couple of years later, the photos were taken with the old box camera that my Greensboro friend, Dottie Benjamin, had given me when I left North Carolina  looking for "something else."

Doris Danvers (left and right) was the landlady who succeeded Gilbert (above) when I left Dorset Square for a room in nearby Harley House.  Doris was a likeable wheeler-dealer who rented a large luxury apartment, then sublet all the four bedrooms. My room looked right into Regents Park which was quite special.   She, herself, slept on an overstuffed red velvet sofa in the living room.  In fact, I seem to remember the whole living room pretty much covered in red velvet.

When she learned that I was about to interview Ginger Rogers, I was catapulted to the rank of star boarder.  She was G.R.'s greatest fan, and whenever a guest or potential renter arrived, I would  always be introduced as the American gentleman who had interviewed Ginger Rogers!

                                                          

Piccadilly Circus, time of the hippies

Baker Street

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My "local" was a singalong pub where I was probably its youngest regular.  Many of the clients had been coming since the war, and the music often dated from that period.  It was there that I discovered "We'll Meet Again" and "The White Cliffs of Dover."  In looking back over the photos, I feel a certain sadness as I realize that I am undoubtedly the only one still alive.

Your input is welcomed:  hotel-musings@hotmail.fr

Next Friday:  "Ginger and me!  Still in London"

[Photos are mine, unless otherwise credited]

CROSS REFERENCING … a look at other postings

The Savoy Hotel was also featured in sidebar for blog No. 13, "Kaspar, The Savoy's Black Cat," Nov. 11, 2012; and No. 28, "Ginger and Me," March 15, 2013  (to access, click on above titles).