I love the Royal Crescent Hotel. I see it every day from my kitchen window - way, way across the little valley that is Bath, separated from my flat by cityscape and circumstance ... so near, and yet so far.
Sometimes, I walk along the Royal Crescent itself - a walk in the park without actually visiting the park - just because I can: it's there, it's beautiful, it's the stuff of tourist dreams and Jane Austen novels and film sets ... but for me, it's just a lovely local walk. The hotel is snuggled right in the middle of the crescent itself - a big town house just like all the others in the row, except this one has a uniformed doorman there to doff his top hat at all who pass and help guests in and out with their Louis Vuitton luggage. There's no sign outside, as such, but a massive green creeper-type thing crawls up over the lower windows - rumour has it that this lush piece of verdant shrubbery is there for the sole purpose of making life miserable for the paparazzi when there's a 'sleb in residence; how funny.
I last visited the hotel last summer; a good friend took me there for posh cocktails (actually, I had a vodka and slimline tonic) on a balmy summer night. We sat in the perfumed garden and gossiped about all kinds of things, and felt very much at home. I once took a special friend to see it; a visitor from Canada. He liked it too - but then, who wouldn't? It's glamorous, but in a British, understated way; snooty, but only to those who crave snoot. I found out today that there might be a review dinner at the hotel's Dower House restaurant on the cards; once again, my job makes my dreams come true. I'd better start slimming into that LBD as fast as I can ...
... but not before I've tucked into tonight's Slater-style supper: oven baked salmon, served with pesto-drizzled smoked salmon and dill ravioli and spinach with toasted pine nuts. Sounds posh, but it isn't. Just like me. And the Royal Crescent Hotel.
1 comment:
Melissa, I really love it when you write like this. I like your other work too, but there is something quietly elegant about your posts 'in this style' - wistful and kind, with plenty more going on 'in-between-the-lines'. I don't know why but this post brought tears to my eyes in a very happy way. Thank you.
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