‘A wonderful paradox: sumptuous yet understated’
at the Berkeley, London
“Have you been using face masks over lockdown?” the therapist gently enquired. (Not the Covid kind).
I considered for a second whether to bother with a lie. Her kindly smile led me to decide against it. “No, but I have been using my cleanser and toner,” I offered – then couldn’t resist an exaggerated embellish, “every day and night”.
I was at the Bamford Wellness Spa at the Berkeley. With the easing of indoor restrictions, I had checked into the prestigious Knightsbridge address for my first glamorous evening out of the year. The setting for my pre-dinner pampering session could not be more fitting. The scent of lavender mingled in the air with hypnotic flute music. Every piece of furniture seemed to be either hewn from the bark of a tree, or immaculately white. If I was a fish out of water after six months of chipped nails and radiator skin, I had picked the right little piece of spa paradise to wash up in.
The Berkeley is a most wonderful paradox: sumptuous yet understated. Such a philosophy is captured well in its interiors, all flickering fireplaces and fluffy cuddle chairs juxtaposed with white-clothed dining tables and marble hallways.
A vibrant cocktail and seafood platter at the hotel’s pop-up outdoor Beach Hut shack is an absolute must, as is the fashion-themed Prêt-à-Portea afternoon tea in the powder-blue Collins Room.
After a spot of window-shopping in Knightsbridge, I enjoyed some downtime in my Grand Terrace Suite with its vast wardrobe space (ideal for shoppers, but a little excessive for hanging my outfit for the evening: my prized Versace little black dress) and huge bath overlooking the stained-glass windows of St Paul’s Church next door. Such a view can also be snatched from entrylevel rooms.
After reacquainting myself with my mascara, it was time for the evening’s festivities. While the Berkeley’s famed Blue Bar wasn’t open for my stay, the hotel’s more recent edition, the Art Deco Berkeley Bar and Terrace, was a sumptuous alternative with its walnutwalled nooks. The Mermaid Shell martini (made with Everleaf marine, a botanical with “seaspray notes”) went down splendidly with a single oyster.
The pièce de résistance – dinner in Marcus Wareing’s Michelin-starred restaurant – was refined yet relaxed; all the more ideal for my first indoor dining experience in more than six months! The menu brims with inventive takes on British classics – from the sprightly roasted Scottish lobster with a brown crab biscuit to medieval-ish decadent suckling pig, oozing with bacon consommé and pomegranate molasses.
If I had next-morning blues that a night I had spent so long looking forward to during lockdown was over, breakfast helped drown my sorrows. I couldn’t recommend more the “seaside benedict” loaded with crab, prawns and chilli. Still, by the time check-out came I was once again grief-stricken. The problem with hotly anticipated nights out is that they leave you unsatisfied – more so when they do actually live up to expectations. I am already planning my next one at the Berkeley.