London first-hand! Dinner at Park Chinois and a night at the famous clubs
I have already fulfilled my dream of the Vienna Opera Ball, and now it’s time for another adventure. London Calling! Come with me to the British metropolis and find inspiration for your own unforgettable experiences!
When I flew to London for the first time, I expected to meet Buckingham Palace guards in funny hats on every corner, take the red double-decker bus to go shopping at Harrods, make calls from a red telephone booth, and that it would rain the entire time.
I actually experience all this aspects of London to this day. Especially the last point of the agenda. I arrive in London and it greets me with rain. It doesn’t matter how perfectly I’ve blow-dried my hair. It always rains. Still in sunny Prague, I check the weather forecast at the destination on my iPhone. Rain. All weekend.
I’m in London and getting to it! I catch a taxi right in front of Paddington Station. The friendly driver asks me where I’m from. When I say I’m from Prague, he reacts with an emphatic “Oh, Czechoslovakia!” Instead of bothering with an explanation, I let him revel in the thought. In response, he proudly informs me… that it’s raining in London. And that it will rain all weekend. What a surprise. That’s simply London!
I have rented an apartment on Airbnb right in the city centre on Cadogan Square, so I just drop off my suitcase, grab the umbrella from the hall and hop back into the waiting taxi.
A lunch that never ends
I get out in front of the Italian Chicconis Restaurant. My umbrella is so big it would cover the entire Salvation Army. When asked if I have a reservation, I admit that I don’t. I notice a single vacant seat at the bar. After some considerable persuasion, I am finally given the spied seat and start to study the menu.
It’s just after three in the afternoon, but everything around is lively! It seems that lunch at Chicconis never ends. I start chatting with the manager Giaccomo, who tells me that the establishment has been open for 40 years already.
I savour by crab salad with fried courgette sticks and inconspicuously watch the young lady sitting next to me. With a bored expression, she orders an entire bottle of Brunello di Montalcino (Marroneto, Toscana - 150 GBP). I sincerely hope the company she is obviously waiting for arrives soon. She spends half an hour alone with the open bottle, to which she also adds a glass of champagne. Finally, her friend arrives. Sigh… we women simply don’t know how to be punctual…
Like Kim Kardashian
Next up is the Jo Hansford hair salon in South Audley Street. London is like New York – it’s not enough to know the street and building to find what you need. You also have to know the cardinal direction. Naturally, it is pouring rain outside. I wander around the square in front of the American embassy and finally find the famous hair salon, where a friend of mine made an appointment for me. They almost confused me with another customer and wanted to dye my hair blonde! I was thoroughly horrified, but then we cleared up what I was after. An hour later, I walk out looking like Kim Kardashian with perfectly smooth hair, which cost me 50 pounds. As compensation for the financial (or moral, if you will) damage, I get a package of hair products.
Big city lights
For this evening, I have prepared a fantastic surprise for myself. Park Chinois. A place I’ve never been to, but heard plenty about. It is very trendy and located in Mayfair – the heart of night-time London. With perfect hair and makeup and ready to take in the capital city with full breaths, I head for Sloan Street not far from my apartment and try to stop one of the passing cabs. No need to mention that it’s raining. As the English would say, it’s raining cats and dogs. On all of Sloan Street there is just me and a guy sheltering himself from the rain in the entrance to a luxury boutique.
Finally, a free taxi! “Park Chinois, 17 Berkeley Street!” I say victoriously to the driver. “Did you order a taxi? If not, get out immediately!” opposes the driver.
Annoyed, I get out, when the sympathetic young man who was standing nearby approaches the cab. “This is my taxi,” he says. “Do you happen to be going to Park Chinois?” he asks me.
I can’t believe my ears! We’re off!
Berkley Street and Berkley Square are famous for their luxury clubs and restaurants, including Nobu, Novikov, Sexy Fish and Park Chinois, which we are headed to.
Before we walk in, I thank my saviour, and before saying farewell, he opens the red door for me to the reception with a fireplace. The receptionist looks me over thoroughly. I feel like I’m on a different planet, recalling the scene where James Bond takes a boat to a casino in Macau in Quantum of Solace. I savour every note of music and the omnipresence scent of incense sticks.
After taking my coat, she accompanies me to the Club Chinois in the basement. The barman offers me the signature cocktail Rouge Intime (Konik’s Tail vodka, rhubarb liqueur, honey with lavender and lime). At the very first sip, a feeling of endless calm spills over me. Let the night begin.
After a while, I hear the voice of the entertainer behind my back. He’s dressed up as a mailman. “Are you here alone? I’ve got something for you,” he informs me, and pulls something out of his basket, which he claims is some sort of “Chinese handle”. “How about imagining for a while that we’re travelling through time? Wave the handle and the whole world will be yours!”
Obediently, I do as he says, even if the entire company at the table behind me is laughing.
Later, I move to a table right next to the stage. I observe my neighbours – elegantly dressed people of various ages. There are couples out on a romantic date and larger groups alike. And everybody is incredibly chic! But being chic in London in nothing unusual. It’s simply the natural state here.
Anonymous drink and instructions on how to access the members only club
Not long afterwards, I’m indulging in the tasty Chinese dumplings recommended by the chef himself, and enjoying the diverse program of the evening. Three actresses. One moment they are sexy cabaret dancers, the next they spectacularly imitate grieving Sicilian widows.
This is followed by a romantic song by an attractive dark singer, am I’m about to finish off my superb Peking duck when the waiter appears and places a glass of champagne on the table. When asked who it’s from, the waiter just smiles and tells the gentleman wished to remain anonymous.
It stops raining after midnight. Everything is alive. I step into a nearby establishment. Bouncers in black top hats stand on each side, and surprisingly they offer a friendly smile. At reception, I am welcomed by an older lady. She looks strict. They don’t want to let me in. For a moment, I unconsciously grasp my massive umbrella in my hands. If only it could turn into Harry Potters magic wand for a moment. The membership fees to certain non-public parts of these clubs costs around 1500 pounds per year, and at some more conservative clubs, women are not admitted at all. And this is in 21st Century Europe!
“Are you a member of our club,” the receptionist asks suspiciously, when all of a sudden a male voice addresses me. “I’m delighted that you accepted my drink. This lady is with me,” declares an elegant young man, who I immediately recognise from the adjacent large table at Park Chinois.
The receptions smiles immediately: “Good evening, Sir Every! Welcome to the new Annabels!”
What adventures will happen next time?
Let yourself be surprised!
