Let train take the strain for a capital adventure
HAS BREXIT DENTED YOUR PLANS FOR A WEEKEND BREAK ON THE CONTINENT? WHY NOT FOLLOW MARK BURROW AND TRAVEL TO LONDON ON A VIRGIN PENDOLINO?
WHEN you fly off into Europe for a weekend break, what do you actually do?
Eat? Drink? Relax and watch the world go by? Maybe explore the local sights; dip into the local culture and visit a museum, a gallery, a monument, see a theatre show?
Well that’s exactly what I’ve just done, except I didn’t bother with the exchange rate gambles, the hassles of airport parking, checking in luggage, a slow trek through security scanners and then a two hour plus flight plus transfers at the other end.
I hopped on a train at Piccadilly and two hours later I was strolling through a balmy midevening London town. It’s hard to believe we’re 200 miles from one of the world’s great capitals when you can be there in such double-quick time.
I was mightily impressed with the whole Virgin Trains experience. There was a series of emails from the point of booking – not the annoying marketing sort, but informative stuff like, details about the journey, the food & drink on offer and a reminder to not forget my tickets! They got the tone just right, so rather than feeling like an annoyance, I felt like they eased me nicely into my city break.
The journey itself was a breeze too. We got the 18.55 from Piccadilly – perfect for heading down south after work on a Friday – and with an arrival time of a shade after 9pm, you still have the better part of the evening in London. If you travel First Class, you’ll have a nice hot meal inside you ready for a night’s partying.
Virgin runs a Piccadilly to London train every 20 minutes for much of the day (Mon-Sat) so you can pretty much choose your own arrival time.
Providing you’re travelling on a weekday at a sensible time of day, there’s a decent menu to choose from too – full English breakfast in the mornings and a choice of dinner options in the evening. And don’t forget the complimentary drinks. I plumped for a lamb rogan josh with pilau rice, and to say it was prepared and consumed at about 125mph it wasn’t half bad.
Once at Euston we headed straight for our weekend HQ; Belgraves Hotel is a plush, boutique affair slap bang in the middle of classy Belgravia. Framed by super expensive apartments and serenaded by a soundtrack of myriad supercars, it’s an uber sophisticated place to spend a few days, but the Belgraves is actually a very welcoming and cosy place to hang out.
And as we discovered that Friday evening, the hotel bar is a magnet for Knightsbridge’s rich young Arab set who arrived in their droves via chauffeur-driven limos and SUVs to meet up in one of the bar’s cosy alcoves. It’s not a small place but it felt intimate thanks to the array of coves and crannies where couples and groups of friends chattered quietly.
The outdoor cigar terrace was particularly popular; framed by beautiful vegetation with a lovely view of the night sky, it was packed from early evening ‘til the early hours.
I love a bit of peoplewatching and we bagged a cracking spot overlooking the entrance from where we spent a fascinating couple of hours enjoying nibbles and marvelling at the comings and goings.
I should point out that the bar bill left a deep scar right through the heart of my northern wallet – never have I paid more for a 330ml bottle of beer – but what’s the point of going all the way to London and then hanging out in a Wetherspoon’s?
Pont St is the hotel’s basement-based restaurant and is worth a visit on its own; breakfast was magnificent with all the usual favourites as well as a mouthwatering a la carte menu with delights such as Turkey Benedict and Breakfast Risotto.
The dinner menu sounded exquisite, but since we had theatre tickets we’d booked a table at Tredwell’s, the Marcus Wareing venue near Covent Garden. It has the AA’s 2015 Restaurant of the Year title to its name and though the Masterchef collaborator was obviously nowhere to be seen, it was easy to see why. My roasted monkfish with squid, chorizo and broad beans was worthy of a little trophy all of its own and I’d have been happy to sit down for a week and work my way through a menu splattered with proper chef words like confit and emulsion.
Whether you’re a regular in the capital or not, it’s hard to resist the lure of Theatreland and we picked out an Alan Ayckbourn play as the centrepiece of our Saturday evening. OK, maybe the theatre was a bit obvious but it’s a welcome change to have your pick of the world’s great performances instead of whatever sells the most tickets in Manchester.
When we were done in the West End, a 10-minute tube ride had us back in Knightsbridge and a short stroll from The Belgraves where an expensive nightcap awaited.
For me, our chic members-club style base was the perfect location for a weekend in London; well away from the hustle and bustle but close enough to smell the Ferraris.