I recently had a Eureka moment. Instead of going on a European city break in the school holidays, you can spend such a city break in London — the city where I live.
It’s the kind of revelation that reveals serious parental cognitive decline. Why didn’t we think of this before? Well, that’s what years of sleepless nights and eating leftover UHP cereal does to you.
Still, you take your wins where you can and Doing The Holiday Right Here In Our City, kids, is one that removes the need for flights — expensive and annoying with children, who either try to escape through the doors at 30,000 feet or play Candy Crush until you explode with guilt-riddled rage. And it allows you to see London through the eyes of a tourist, not a council tax-payer.
It also opens the door to luxury. For instead of spending all that cash on travel, why not treat yourself to a quality hotel? Or indeed the very best hotel in London.
And so it was that my partner and I, and our two children (nine and 12), took the bus and arrived at The Dorchester.
Where is it?
The Dorchester is of course on Park Lane, overlooking Hyde Park. I mean this is one of the world’s most iconic hotels, which opened in 1931 and quickly gained a reputation as a cultural hub where the literary set would mingle.
During World War Two, President Eisenhower planned the Normandy Invasion while staying here. And thereafter it has become the home from home for royalty and statesmen and stars like Alfred Hitchcock, Elizabeth Taylor, Brigitte Bardot, Cary Grant, Liberace (whose mirrored piano still sits in the Artist’s Bar here) and on and on it goes.
Just the sight of the place is enough to give you goosebumps, with its elegant design and the classic yellow and white awnings over its windows. Certainly it makes children suddenly switch into Best Behaviour mode, more so when they were greeted by their first names in the warmest of welcomes by one of the team of butlers.
“Let’s never leave,” I murmured to them as we made our way to our suite, and they solemnly nodded, understanding that they would cry, beg, wail and cling to the walls if it came to it.
Style
Well the hotel had a major refresh in 2023 by French interior designer Pierre-Yves Rochon, which has brought bursting life to the whole place. The Art Deco lobby makes for a stunning opening which then leads into the Promenade, a dazzling stretch of splendour down the centre of the hotel. It’s a riot of art and flowers (from the legendary Cake & Flowers shop on the hotel corner), and rosy glows from the lucky ones having afternoon tea (see below).
The rooms have all been redone too, and our suite was the kind of luxury which has those of us not used to luxury, having to suppress an impulse to dash around in ecstatic mania like a puppy suddenly allowed on the furniture.
This was a lavish set of rooms, with a bedroom and bathroom for the parents, and way, way on the other side, another set for the children.
Their names were written on their bathroom mirrors, welcome sweets were on their bedside tables, and the smart toilet was a source of utmost fascination to them. This is a toilet were the lid lifts as you approach, and will wash your bum if you care for it to; sadly for my daughter at one point, she pressed the wrong button and got a soaking. You don’t get things like this in New Cross.
Meanwhile I was checking out the safer tech brands, all the B&O TVs, the Brewista kettle where you can dictate the temperature, the Sjostrand coffee maker, the Dyson hair dryer. Everything would get used my me, even the latter. I sat at an elegant desk on an elegant chair, gazed out the window, past the awning, at Hyde Park, and decided this was not just the best hotel, but the best place in London. Yes, that includes the Devonshire, folks.
Food & Drink
This was where things really started to peak higher, and made the stay into an all-timer for the kiddies (and parents).
Firstly, afternoon tea. Now, I’ve never really understood afternoon tea. A few sandwiches and a cuppa. What’s the point? For tourists and grannies, I thought. How wrong I was.
These were sandwiches the likes of which I’ve never tasted. The salmon was sensational. The roast chicken was madness. The cucumber – a cucumber sandwich! – was magic. I’ve never seen my kids eat so fast. That is, until the chocolates and pastries and scones arrived. Being a conservative type, the tea I plumped for was the Afternoon Blend, but my partner chose Vanilla Black, which I practically fought her for after I’d tried a sip. I didn’t even know tea could be that nice, I’ve been drinking factory floor brew all these years.
The service was supremely amazing, an extra glass of champagne sent our way… the children fussed over, and this was just the beginning.
The Grill by Tom Booton is one of the three restaurants. They host breakfast there, and is the kind of place where a child – say, mine – wants a boiled egg with soldiers, they’ll do it for you, and it’ll be the best boiled egg with soldiers anyone’s ever had. But the big treat for the children came when they were invited for a pizza making masterclass by the wonderful team.
Off they popped for a couple of hours while us parents stayed behind to play with the gadgets in the room – not a euphemism – when they returned, they were in full chef’s gear, aprons and hats, bearing pizzas and ridiculous-sized grins. Turns out they had been not just trained in the art of pizzas by the chefs but given a tour of the kitchens, including a special room where they make all the chocolate treats. Willy Wonka fantasy stuff.
Later, the evening meal in The Grill was a joy. I had a frankly incredible beef tartare as a starter; a gamble, if you get a bad one, it can ruin your night. But not a gamble, I was in good hands and it was beautiful. My grilled brill was light and sumptuous, my partner’s rib-eye melt-in-the-mouth. But the chips were the big talking point for the family. The maitre d’ explained the process of making them, which includes a lot of pressure and cooling and scientific breakthroughs over the course of several days which results in a set of thick chips that demand to be eaten slowly. So nice it’s practically criminal.
We were invited into the kitchen to say hello to the chefs, who explained some of the detail and dedication that goes into the dishes. They were not forthcoming with the children’s wages – I’d had a few glasses of wine by that point – but I got over it and we returned to take a seat at the dessert bar, where once again we were hosted by a lovely genius who started putting a selection of lovely things before us.
I had a strawberry and matcha tart with pistachio ice cream which I almost wept over. But the real treat came when he presented us all with a rhubarb and custard ice cream from the soft serve machine. A soft serve machine which cost £30,000. Let’s just say it was worth it.
Extracurricular
Well, this is London! It’s our city but we were suddenly tourists in it, so we saw it anew. Going for a walk across the road in Hyde Park was a delight. The Serpentine glittering and the flower gardens in full bloom.
We took in a show – Percy Jackson: The Lightning Thief, very good family fun – walked around Mayfair, and had that dreamy time which London always promised through the years but never quite arrived… until now.
Which room?
Our room. Hands off. It’s ours.
But really, our Hyde Park suite was obviously top level, but the every room offers what the whole world wants from London, sophistication, charm, refinement and warmth.
Best for
Well look, this is the ultimate staycation. A once-in-a-lifetime, memory-making delight for a family. I honestly cannot see the point in going on a city break to Europe when you can just remain here and do London in this manner instead.
That may not sound adventurous but when you’ve had the kind of adventure into high-living that The Dorchester gives you, trust me, you’ll never want to see an airport again.
And yes, they dragged us out, kicking and screaming...
The details
Rooms from £643 a night. The Dorchester, 45 Park Lane, W1. Book it here
