39 - Living It Up On Park Lane!

THE DORCHESTER, London

A taste of luxury, Park Suite at the Dorchester

       I renewed a long-distance acquaintanceship last year with Christopher Cowdray after writing of him in this blog ("A Momentous Long-Distance Phone Call").  We have exchanged letters, communicated on the telephone, and chatted via email, but never actually come face to face.  

In the intervening years since the episode recounted in that musing, Cowdray has gone from managing director of Claridge's to becoming CEO of the Dorchester Collection.  He is in essence now at the helm of a veritable empire of international grand hotels.  And not just any old grand hotel.  

The Collection includes the absolute crème de la crème of international properties from Paris to Milan to Beverly Hills, not to mention England.
 

The Promenade lobby, a London landmark

A congruence of circumstances resulted in an invitation last month to spend a few days at The Dorchester, the Collection's namesake and prize London property.  

Mendez circa 1968 (Google)

   The Dorchester was the only luxury hotel I ever remember entering during the two years I lived in London at the end of the 1960’s.  Once was for a press party given by Sergio Mendez to announce a new album.  Of course few remember Mendez now, but at the time he was a hot commodity in the record world (that is, “record” as in victrola or hi-fi, for any of you who may be under 40).

The other time was to pick up a press release from a Middle Eastern political lobbyist. I recall his suite being of great luxury,  but somehow never connected it with anything that actually touched me or the real world.  I accepted his champagne and petits fours, but the political implications were entirely over my head, and I never wrote about it.

 I was aware that Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton were living at the “Dorch” that year, but again, there was their world, and then there was the real world. 

Opened in 1931, ultra modern at the time, the birth of the Dorchester oddly coincided with that of the Great Depression which had taken a couple of years before arriving in full force in the United Kingdom.  

Because of its reinforced concrete foundation,

Ike 1944 (Historiweb)

uncommon for its time, it was considered one of the safest large buildings --certainly the safest hotel-- in London during the War.  General Eisenhower, who had first stayed at the Savoy, later moved and took up residence at the Dorchester.

In the last few years, The Dorchester has been discreetly reinventing itself.  It has undergone extensive renovations, rooms have been redone and redecorated, and most suites have been completely re-thought and transformed.  It stands proudly today at the top of its form.  

As we set off to catch the Eurostar for the 2 1/2 hour train journey to London, Brenda had her heart set on a view of Hyde Park.  I warned her that this was unlikely, as only the most expensive rooms seemed to be on the Park side.  We had been just slightly let down last year by our digs at the Savoy, and we promised ourselves not to be disappointed if the accommodations were on the small side.

They were not.

The lovely Katarina

Imagine our enchantment when the glamorous Katarina, a "guest liaison manager", threw open the doors of the Park Suite for us.   One of the hotel's most elegant apartments, I would have almost settled for just its foyer with its handsome black and white marble floor and distinctive Japanese-style wallpaper.

The stunning foyer of our suite

 Entirely redone last year, Katarina confided it was her favorite suite.  I was thoroughly conquered when she said that all my questions reminded her of herself, as she, too, shared a longstanding passion for hotels.  

A native of Slovakia, she first worked in London at the smaller, elitist Connaught Hotel, before moving to The Dorchester.  She undoubtedly has discovered a very special world in the once-closed milieu of English palaces.

And as for the panorama, Brenda need not have worried.  Even the toilet (there were two!) had a fine view of Park Lane and Hyde Park.  

Our rooms, like much of the hotel, have maintained a strong feeling of the English traditional, subtly revisited by a touch of pan-Asian decor and more than a little art-déco.  The Dorch has somehow found the secret to being old-fashioned and modern at the same time.  

The last morning, I awakened at daybreak to just a hint of sunlight peeking through the curtains, and I savored the beauty of the bedroom's exquisite silver and gray damask wallpaper.  A detail among so many.  

Preparing to leave, I felt a sudden sadness.  Would this be my swan song to Gatsbyesque living?  I do hope not.  But if so, I couldn't have found a better finale.  How could I ever top it? 

Brenda getting used to the luxurious bed linen and all those wonderful down-filled pillows

 SNAPSHOTS:  A few days at the Dorchester

An array of homemade chocolates awaiting us our first afternoon

A loo with a view

Lizzie brings even more beautiful white roses

Miguel sees to the champagne

Paul, Head butler

Breakfast "at home"

Traditional English breakfast in the Grill

Late night at the Concierge Desk

Entryway to a bona fide grand hotel

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

Next Friday:  "The Paris Riots of 1968 at l'Hotel de Lille"

[Photos are mine, unless otherwise credited]

CROSS REFERENCING … a look at other postings

Christopher Cowdray was also featured in blog No. 16, "A Momentous Long-Distance Call" Dec. 12, 2012 (to access, click on above title).

16 - A Momentous Long Distance Call

 

CLARIDGE’S HOTEL, London

Luxurious living at Claridge's,  if only for a day or two ...  

     

      At Claridge’s, the innovative Christopher Cowdray, the London hotel’s general manager between 1998 and 2004, once inaugurated a particularly democratic program whereby every full-time employee spent a night as guest of the hotel.

Michael, one of the French waiters at the time, was among the first to avail himself of the opportunity, and he and his wife were thrilled with their stay.  They were given a beautiful suite with flowers and champagne.  He told me it had completely transformed his concept of life at Claridge’s.

Christopher Cowdray  (Google archives)

I never actually met Mr. Cowdray, though I have long followed his career with interest, and once I did have a thrilling long distance conversation with him.

I had spent a weekend in London with my friend Marguerite in 1998.  We had profited from one of those unbeatable suite-weekend packages.  It was a period of recession and it was the kind of deal you just don’t find any longer.

Marguerite in apartment 115

 

We had a great time, and the suite was spacious and gorgeous.  Then towards the end of our stay we had a couple of oddly incongruous mishaps. 

Exceptional room details

Marguerite had a loose button on her jacket, and we called Housekeeping to request a needle and thread.  We were pretty dumbfounded when told that neither were available.  Coming from a hotel that prided itself on opening up amusement parks at two in the morning for middle eastern royalty, the impossibility of finding so much as a needle and thread was disconcerting.

On our last morning, arriving back from a trip to the flea market, we discovered three men in overalls with their hammers and various power tools spread out over the bedroom floor.  They had removed one of the doors and were in the process of transforming our suite into a larger apartment for the next guests.   Someone had prematurely decided we had already vacated the premises.  

We decided to write to the management, and I set out our grievances with a maximum of humor, emphasizing that it was only my affection for Claridge’s that prodded me to share this less than perfect experience.

Whenever I write, and for whatever reason, I always aim for the top man on the totem pole, though never sure he’ll actually see my missive.  I sent the letter on a Monday to the very top, Christopher Cowdray.

When the telephone rang early Wednesday morning, the excitement was almost too much for me to bear.  It was the managing director, himself.

After profusely thanking me for my letter, he said (and I'll never forget his choice of words) he was “absolutely devastated” to learn of my recent trials and tribulations.

Had Louis B. Mayer been on the other end of the line, entreating me to sign a seven-year Hollywood contract, I wouldn’t have been more excited.  Mr. Cowdray invited me to contact him directly for all future bookings, and he further proposed a highly advantageous promotion if I’d give them another try.  

I felt a little guilty, as I had had a splendid time already, even without locating a needle and thread.  At any rate, my next visit was impeccable, and the suite had its fair share of flowers and fruits and little notes from various managers welcoming me back. 

It was several years afterwards that Mr. Cowdray’s rather brilliant career took him elsewhere, and I must say Claridge’s has never seemed quite as tip-top since.

-o-

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

Next Friday:  "Christmas away from home"

  [Photos are mine, unless otherwise credited]

CROSS REFERENCING … a look at other postings

Christopher Cowdray is also featured in:  blog No. 39, "Living It Up On Park Lane!" May 31, 2013 (to access, click on above title).