When I was a little girl and visited London with my family, I was taken to some of the places which tourists are meant to see. I was also taken to some of the places which tourists might not have on their lists. For example, the buildings housing Claridge’s and The Savoy hotels were two of the structures pointed out to me. Not with a view to going inside to dine or stay – options which would have overstretched my family’s budget – but simply to learn about the history of these famous hotels and to identify the styles of their architecture and decor. I have no doubt this is when and where the seeds of my love of “Art Deco” were sown.

The entrance to The Savoy Hotel, London

As young as I was, I promised myself that one day I would dine in both of those renowned establishments. Many years passed before that ambition started to become reality. In 2018 I visited Claridge’s for lunch. Both the meal and the experience amply lived up to the expectation. A year and a half later, I made my first trip to The Savoy for dinner. That meal was among the last I ate in London before restaurants were forced to close as a global pandemic attached its grip on our everyday lives.

Fera, Claridge’s, 2018

Perhaps there was a sense of foreboding in the air, an instinctive feeling that something immense and unpleasant was about to happen, but that evening was not as relaxed and enjoyable as it should have been. The meal itself was good. The pre-dinner cocktail was outstanding. Still, something had missed the mark. It was the service.

The vaunted welcome was distinctly lacking. Staff at the entrance of the hotel and on the reception desk seemed so engaged in their own conversations that they barely noticed some of the guests arriving – though cheery greetings seemed to have been held in reserve for selected guests – regular customers, I supposed.

The greeting in the restaurant from a very young staff member was lack-lustre. I had specifically requested a “quiet” spot in the restaurant in advance. I understand that the quiet table I envisaged in my imagination might be hard to provide in the reality of a busy dining room. Nonetheless, I was disappointed to find myself being ushered towards a high bar stool and counter in the central point of the restaurant. I wondered if the staff responsible for overseeing reservations had asked themselves “What is the polar opposite of this customer’s request?” They certainly succeeded in finding it. I explained I had requested somewhere quiet, less conspicuous. The young staff member responded by making a sweeping gesture as if inviting me to view the dining room – the almost empty dining room – and explained the other tables were booked. I went on to explain that I’d find a high bar stool very uncomfortable to eat a three or four-course meal and that if no seat could be found for me at a table I would need to find another restaurant for the evening. It was restated that there were no tables available. I asked whether the restaurant manager might be able to help with the situation. A more experienced member of staff joined the conversation and immediately led me to one of empty tables. It was a very pleasant spot. There were lovely views of the lights from across the Thames and, with the tables around me staying empty for the remainder of my time in the restaurant, it was very peaceful.

The food was good. One of the courses was excellent. The overriding memory I have of that evening, however, was the off-the-mark nature of the service. Perversely, my disappointment turned out to be a driving factor in my wish to return. Had it just been an “off” night? Are inexperienced staff now being better trained? Is the warmest version of The Savoy’s welcome really reserved only for faces the staff recognise? Could a return trip to the hotel leave me impressed by higher standards of service? I am booked to return to The Savoy for lunch next week and when I have the answers I will report back!

Photo Credits:

The Savoy: 220356514 © Powerofflowers | Dreamtime.com

Claridge’s: 220739361 © Basphoto|Dreamstime.com