If Athens and the Acropolis are on your bucket list but you’re put off by the thought of intense heat and insane crowds, this is your sign to go right now. Because springtime is the best time to visit Athens.

Usually when I step off a plane in Athens, it’s summertime. That sort of punch-you-in-the-lungs heat that you never get in the UK. It’s always a bit of a shock to the system.

It can easily hit 40 degrees in high season Athens. And in fact the only thing saving Athens from being completely unbearable is the breeze that blows off the Aegean Sea. Many Athenians abandon the city for the islands in summer, because it’s so hot inland. That should tell you something.

My springtime experience…

Firstly, I’ve had a very decent ride with Aegean (complimentary hot Greek meal and drinks, clean A360 plane with good legroom). Arriving into Athens on easyJet is a lot less easy on the old 50-plus bod, it has to be said. I’m Aegean all the way from now on.

A very decent prawn cocktail, hot pastitsio, and snacky biccie thing on board, for those of you interested. Wine not shown, ahem.

It’s heavenly stepping off the plane

Not unlike an early summer’s day in England – everything is warm, but has a light, green feeling. You can take a deep breath, draw in the fresh air, everything verdant and new, rather than the heat of summer when it’s all overripe, heavy and cloying like a black banana.

It’s early March and it’s the first time I’ve done Athens so early in the year. Before I even leave the runway and get into the airport I’m a convert.

First stop in my short trip is the hotel

I’m staying at the famous and beautifully elegant Hotel Grande Bretagne in Syntagma Square. One of the best five-star residences in Athens, and arguably the most famous, the hotel celebrated 150 years in 2024. It’s actually a Marriott now, but don’t let that put you off; it’s also a Luxury Collection hotel and retains its stately standing, with beautifully appointed bedrooms, excellent bars and restaurants, luxey pools and spa amenities, and that feeling I always want from a grande dame.

It has all its individual charm, great service, and feels every inch the traditional five star. My room also has a great view, plus the most exciting snackie drawer and well-stocked mini-bar I’ve seen in a hotel room for a long time. Bravo.

We arrive at the hotel in the late afternoon – there are a few of us travelling together – and once we’ve showered and changed, we’re all ready for some fun.

First things first; a drink in Alexander’s Bar at the hotel. This is a great place to start the evening – the bar and lounge are furnished with a nod to both Greek culture and the British theme of the hotel. I try not to feel too colonial.

The hotel, incidentally, has great views of the Acropolis. There’s an outdoor pool with stunning views of the hill and the buildings. Inside Alexander’s, there’s also an atrium where you can sit ‘outside’ and enjoy a peaceful oasis slap bang in the middle of one of the noisiest cities in the world. Cocktails all round, and then we’re definitely ready for some food. We head out into the Athens nightlife.

Read more: Why Mexico should be on your bucket list

Time for dinner and we’re off to Ergon

This is a place I’ve been wanting to visit for ages, so I’m thrilled to be at Ergon House. This isn’t just a restaurant. It’s a deli, a place to stay… a place to eat and drink and relax. The inside is set in a vast light atrium space, and the ethos is very much about local farmers and producers, seasonal foods and sustainable agriculture.

There’s even a ‘vertical orchard’ stretching up one wall of the 25-metre atrium which is worth the trip alone to have a look at. Incorporating the latest advancements in hydroponics and aquaponics, it serves as a 2.0 farming field, growing seasonal herbs such as oregano, basil, and rosemary. Unfortunately my photograph of it was awful, but you can see it on their website.

As you’d probably imagine from a place with these credentials, the food here is stunning. We pile into a range of different smaller plates; dolmades, Greek salad, khachapuri (that bread boat thing with cheese and egg in the middle), mad cheese pastries… but seeing as we’re sat right in the middle of one of the best butcheries in Athens, the obvious choice here is from the fresh meat counter.

You can pick things to eat from the deli and butchery counters – it’s an immersive eating experience – so I went for some lamb chops which were on the specials board. Sublime. And to finish off, at the insistence of the team at the restaurant, a vast quantity of local piney liqueur, Mastika, made from tree resin. This is an acquired taste, but a good digestif.

Safe to say we weren’t moving at any kind of speed after that lot, and we slid happily into digesting, chatting, and enjoying the buzz of an Athens just waking up from winter.

However, I’ll sleep when I’m dead…

I’m only in Athens for a short time so I’m making the most of it. I’ve been recommended a bar called The Bank Job. I feel it’s my duty to try it out, and my travelling chums are keen to support this noble effort. It’s only a short walk from Ergon (what did we do before Google maps?), and we’re glad we made the effort.

As you might guess, it’s in an old bank vault, with drinking spaces both inside and out, and it’s gently busy. We enjoy some really outstanding cocktails, and some freebies from the owner. I’d love to tell you his name but by this point things are delightfully hazy. Deciding to call it a night, and not ruin the next day, I slide off around 1am. Apparently I’m becoming more sensible in my advancing years.

Clearly being very sensible. Making the most of the Athens nightlife

Not sensible enough to avoid a thick head the next morning unfortunately…

But sensible enough to get up, shower, enjoy a decent breakfast and get to the Acropolis at a very reasonable hour. The site is open from 8am and I’m there before 9, because I’m wondering if there might be a bit of a queue, even at this time of the year. However, I wasn’t prepared for it to be so quiet. We paid our money, got our tickets and slipped straight through.

The Erechtheion or Temple of Athena Polias

Once on the site I could count the number of people there on one hand. It was slightly bizarre. I’ve been before but only in summertime, which is brutal. It’s so busy you can barely see the ground under your feet for crowds around you, let alone the ancient wonders.

This, then, is possibly the best reason of all to come in springtime. Late February/early March (avoiding that sneaky half term towards the end of the month) and probably well into April is prime time if you want to really see the Parthenon, the Temple of Athena Nike, the Erechtheion and so on. Not to mention a smog-free view of the city, laid out around you. It’s breathtaking, no exaggeration. Do it.

The Greek Theatre of Dionysus, and Athens beyond

View over Athens from Acropolis

Leaving the Acropolis we pottered down the hill

Already slowing into Greece pace – siga, siga, for those who know – which roughly means ‘slowly, slowly’. By this point it’s around 17 degrees, and the streets are littered with jolly dogs and watchful cats enjoying the gentle spring warmth. I pat a few lazily wagging curs. They sniff me hopefully for treats, and I wonder how they cope in the blazing summer heat. I guess they’re used to it. The road is cobbled and in very good nick. It’s also very clean.

Next up, the Acropolis Museum

The Acropolis Museum is relatively new, having opened in 2009 after a fierce architectural competition – CAD-bags at dawn, one assumes. It’s actually a lovely job, architecturally-speaking. Modern and minimalist, the design lends more than a nod to the stately Acropolis architecture on the hill behind it. And there is a lot of glass. The windows are coated and the antiquities positioned so there’s no sun damage. But the lighting throughout the building is a joy.

The museum incorporates an ancient Athenian village, built around it to both preserve and display it. Discovered during an excavation, this 4,000-square-metre insight into ancient Athenian living can be seen from the viewing platforms. And somewhat disconcertingly through the glass floors.

Upstairs you enter an extraordinary space, filled with statues and pottery findings from past civilisations, leading up to the Roman Empire. Move through and you can get up close and personal with a couple of caryatids, sculpted women who for a couple of thousand years bore the weight of the Erechtheion. And there are the strangely humbling Parthenon statues upstairs in the glass gallery. It’s quite the ride, and a must-see for archaeologist enthusiasts.

At the museum I joined a tour group

So I could traipse round and understand what I was looking at. The guide however spent half the time telling everyone how terrible the British were for stealing things. A fair point, I’ll concede, but not something I can personally fix whilst on a mini break. And her endless ranting made it impossible to enjoy the treasures. Eventually I got fed up of being told off for something I hadn’t actually done myself, and went off piste, abandoning the group. I wasn’t the only one to ditch, either.

Happier walking around at my own pace, and feeling less like a dog with its tail between its legs, I drifted through the beautiful statuary in a happy little dream. The museum is well laid out and enjoyable to walk around. But like any museum, one hits a limit eventually – or at least my lower back does – and it’s time to stop the drifting.

Thankfully, there’s a very good restaurant on site. Time for some lunch after my busy morning. Obviously the vast meal of last night and hearty breakfast of earlier haven’t quite done the trick because I’m all over this lunch like a cheap suit. Excellent wine makes my cheeks pink, and I work my way through both spanakopita and Greek salad, followed by some kind of slow cooked beef thing (not stifado) with potatoes.

I’ve impressed even myself. I’ve also knocked myself flat on my back – I grab a taxi and head back to the hotel. Time for a nap.

My ‘nap’ ends up being an all-nighter

I ended up feeling so fat and happy in bed that I stayed there. I ordered a bit of room service, and had a good night’s sleep. In the morning, we left early, and my only regret is that I didn’t get to explore the hotel further. I had wanted to swim in the pools, eat in the restaurants. But it was a flying visit, and hopefully I’ll be able to go back.

More than anything, I would urge anyone keen to see the ancient treasures of Athens to go right now, before it gets any hotter. I am here to tell you that – for this kind of experience – springtime is the best time to go to Athens.

Sam Harrington-Lowe

Sam is Silver’s founder and editor-in-chief. She’s largely responsible for organising all the things, but still finds time to do the odd bit of writing. Not enough though. Send help.

The post Why springtime is the best time to visit Athens appeared first on Silver Magazine.

Flying out to Zurich it was an unusually clear day. So clear that as we flew over the edge of England I could see my house from the plane. I waved goodbye to Blighty and settled in for the short journey to Switzerland. I was off to review the five star Grand Resort Bad Ragaz, hurrah.

Upon landing, the first thing I discovered was that my phone provider didn’t work in Switzerland. I’d just blindly assumed that I’d automatically get data switched over, but no.

No biggie, I figured, I’d just use the free Wi-Fi that I could see was in the airport. But connecting to the airport Wi-Fi was impossible. Log in here, add this code, no you can’t because you don’t have connectivity, log in here etc.

In the end a fellow traveller did me a hot spot so I could log in and buy some data. So be warned – Switzerland is not in the EU and your phone might not automatically work there. Plan ahead.

Leaving the airport, I was excited about my onward journey, because we had a train ticket to ride. I have a mad passion for train travel. The train was very clean and – we discovered to our amusement – very strictly silent.

In fact, our small group (all women, all quite excited) was roundly told off by a very cross little man who genuinely leapt out of his seat to tap the sign that presumably said “quiet”. We all shut up, trying not to look at each other and giggle.

I was right to be excited though…

I had a first-class ticket, and a first class view of Switzerland as we sped towards our destination. Awe-inspiring mountains rising out of stunning blue lakes, the tops so high they were lost in the clouds. It was thrilling, and I don’t say that lightly. There’s a huge benefit in feeling the power of awe, and the landscape really is awesome.

I could have spent hours on the train. But we arrived at Sargans station all too soon, and were picked up to head to the hotel resort.

Once inside the hotel I was hugely impressed. The lobby is light and airy, with a fantastic art installation of bubbles to represent the natural spa/spring water in the area. It’s upmarket without feeling oppressive. I don’t know how they manage to make such a vast hotel feel so family-run, but that’s how it rolls.

Dogs are allowed, which always makes me happy. And also kids, which I’m generally less enthusiastic about, if I’m honest. The resort is very much geared up for children though, unusual for a spa hotel like this, and I think actually it’s a nice idea. There’s a Kindervilla on site, for the children to hang out in during the daytime, as well as plenty of babysitters.

There’s also a children’s Heidi-themed spa area. So although the little darlings are allowed at the hotel, you don’t get them killing the chill in the adult spa zones. I don’t really mind kids. But don’t want them squawking next to me in the jacuzzi.

Also, something that one finds increasingly these days, despite the hotel having five stars and a very luxurious offering, guests were dressed quite informally. Not scruffy, you understand. Just in a relaxed fashion – which I totally appreciate. I’m done with heels and uncomfortable clothing these days.

My suite was a total corker

The view from my balcony

The suite was vast, situated at the front of the hotel with breathtaking views across the mountains. Standing on the balcony staring at the scenery whilst soft rain pattered around me was a quiet moment of bliss that I can still feel now if I close my eyes.

On my desk I found a gorgeous little selection of sweet and savoury snacks. And I was also delighted to find a very well-stocked fridge and snack zone. Decent gin and tonic! Big tick.

Another word to the wise: I’d felt very smug remembering to bring my UK to Europe plug adaptor, but guess what?! The plugs in Switzerland are different. At our hotel the concierge had a bunch of them you could borrow, and almost everyone in our (British) group needed one. But something to be aware of.

Standing on the balcony staring at the scenery whilst soft rain pattered around me was a quiet moment of bliss

In the afternoon we’d been due to have a tour of the outside art installations, part of the Bad RagARTz exhibition, which happens once every three years. It’s a region-wide showcase, with art, sculptures and statues dotted everywhere. Worth planning a trip around this to see it, if you’re thinking of heading here. But it was raining, so instead we relaxed, had a tour of the hotel resort, including the Kindervilla, and got ready for dinner.

As I was dressing for dinner, a storm broke out over the mountains. Storms always excite me – it was quite something, thunder and lightning over the mountains. I watched it for a bit, spellbound.

Around the resort

The Grand Resort is home to several very lovely restaurants, as well as a health and medical centre, dental centre, and of course the spa. There’s even a take-away sushi kiosk, KOiSO, which I confess to ordering twice from during my stay.

The resort is a centre of medicine and wellness, not just a place for a massage and dip in the water. There are doctors here practicing in everything from orthopaedics, traumatology and vascular disease to mental health, dental health, and Chinese medicine.

There’s also a full-service plastic surgery department, sports therapy clinic, rehab centre, nutrition clinics… you name it, it’s probably at the resort. One could absolutely have a face lift and tummy tuck, and hide out here in the mountains to recover, having regular massages, therapies, and swimming in the various pools. Have put this on my mental wish list for in a few years’ time.

Our first night, and we met in the elegant lobby for cocktails

I’ve had beautifully-made cocktails in places all over the world (she said smugly) but the mixologists here are amongst the very best I’ve experienced. Exquisitely crafted drinks, gorgeous choice of glassware – a very good start to the evening.

Namun is their Asian-inspired restaurant, and where we ate on our first night. The joy of travelling in a small group means you get to order a la carte, rather than have a set menu, which can happen if you’re in a bigger group. I had Thai prawn summer rolls, and a mix of dim sum including dumplings, melt-in-the-mouth Wagyu beef, and various gyoza.

Sadly I couldn’t manage any pudding, but I did choose some sake from their extensive sake-specific menu. And by the time dinner was over, I was ready to drop. The food was magic, and I slept like a baby.

Deliciousness at Namun

Next morning the sun had broken through…

And I was chuffed to bits that I’d ordered breakfast in my room. I leapt out of bed – well, maybe not leapt, but rose enthusiastically – and before even having a cup of tea, bolted downstairs to the outside pool. I’d seen it the day before, and was desperate to get in it, to swim with that phenomenal backdrop, and make the most of the dry weather. It was heavenly.

Back up to my room and my breakfast trolley had been delivered. This for me is the height of dining delight – to eat indulgently in the privacy of my own room. I made a point of having the ‘<<verve>>’ special, so named after the resort’s Michelin-starred restaurant. If you’re interested, it’s crispy sourdough toast, with a tomato jam, and lovage whipped tofu cream, topped with poached eggs and baby salad leaves. I could have done without the jam, very sweet. But the whippy tofu stuff was magic.

Outdoor pool; <<verve>> breakfast; spa relaxation area

I was booked in for the ‘Pause and Reset’ treatment – an 80-minute aromatherapy full body workover that is “specifically designed to help ease the side effects of hormonal changes.” I don’t know about that, but I do know that I could barely stand when I got off the bed. Can’t remember the last time I felt so relaxed.

After that it was a short stagger to the spa area, where I bobbed about in the fabulous body-temperature swimming pool, before somehow making my way to my room for a short siesta. Nice to be able to wander around in my robe. It’s one of the nicest and oddest things about fancy spa hotels, I find. Fortunately I had the presence of mind to grab sushi to take up to my room. Because once I landed there, I was wiped out! Siesta time…

The afternoon saw a few activities before dinner…

Post-lunch, members of our group pottered around the local area. For me it was a chance to take in some of the outdoor art installations, and also have a little mooch around the little village next to the resort. Some of the group went to the Tamina Gorge, the source of the 36.5° C warm thermal waters that have made Bad Ragaz world famous.

‘Bad’ by the way, means ‘bath’, in case you were wondering. I didn’t know that until I came here, and I’d thought Bad Ragaz sounded a bit like a rapper’s name. But now we both know.

In the evening we were lucky enough to eat at verve by Sven, the Michelin-starred restaurant on site. I’d been excited about this since we arrived, and made the most of the exciting menu. For starter I had tomato, redcurrant, basil, and pine nut burrata plate, which was outstanding. Then for main course, a few of us shared the frankly astonishing seared beef cutlets with hoisin jus, served with seared lettuce and other bits.

A beef encounter

I know, not very adventurous in a place with a star. But frankly I think you can judge a restaurant by its steaks, eggs, custards, and sauces. I’m going to say it’s a yes from me here. The beef was meltingly delish. I wish I had two stomachs.

Our final day…

And I woke up to breakfast in my room again. I went all-out this time. Eggs, crispy bacon, caviar and a little bottle of Ruinart, my favourite champagne. How could I not?!

Oh well, if you insist

Once we’d checked out, we had a trip to Heidi’s Village, which was as surreal and adorable as you might imagine. Although Heidi is a fictional character, the stories are set in the region, and Heidi’s Village is only a short 10 min ride from the hotel. There are goats, natch. And they’ve created the houses that Heidi and all the other book characters would have lived in. It’s a bit nuts, but very endearing. It’s perfect for children who know the stories.

The Grand Resort Bad Ragaz is a great place for multigenerational trips because it’s one of the only places in the world that I’m aware of that accommodates kids at an upmarket spa hotel.

Plenty of childcare, coupled with the children’s spa and pool areas, mean that you can take your kids and grandkids there and not have to sacrifice your own peaceful experience. Or enable your darling offspring to annoy other guests. And when you’re not in the hotel, there’s plenty to do within a short hop from the resort.

I loved the place, and wished I could have stayed longer. The food was exemplary, and the service and facilities faultless. I didn’t want to come home!

Now, to start planning my next visit there…

Grand Resort Bad Ragaz
Rates: high season, rooms and suites from 750CHF (Swiss francs) per night. A suite like mine is around 1,100CHF (£990) per night
‘Pause and Reset’ treatment 295CHF (£265)
Tasting menu at verve by Sven 120CHF (£116)
Return flight Heathrow-Zurich is around £200-300 off peak, but you can easily double that in high season

Sam Harrington-Lowe

Sam is Silver’s founder and editor-in-chief. She’s largely responsible for organising all the things, but still finds time to do the odd bit of writing. Not enough though. Send help.

The post Five star treatment at the Grand Resort Bad Ragaz – review appeared first on Silver Magazine.

If immersing yourself in the gentle glamour of a bygone age is up your street, you’ll love this. A luxurious lunch on board a beautiful steam train, a Pullman Dining Train. With nothing to do except eat, drink, and take in the breathtaking Yorkshire scenery. Escape the real world for a few hours, and let the train take the strain. Naomi Katze went along to try out the Moorlander experience…

Arriving at the station

Your experience begins when you drive into the picturesque village of Grosmont, North Yorkshire. Grosmont is actually famous for the discovery of ironstone in 1836, when George Stephenson’s original railway from Whitby to Pickering was being built. Although the ironstone industry is now a thing of the past, the railway is still a prominent part of the village.

Parking is plentiful for access to the station, with large parking areas. Don’t forget to pay for your ticket before you walk to the station like we did!

With just a 5-10 minute walk through pretty woodland, crossing over the wrought iron bridge to the station, you start to get the feeling you’re travelling back in time. It’s like a scene from Heartbeat. The staff are impeccably dressed in vintage attire. And there’s a real buzz around the station as there are trains due in, and some being shunted about. The sun was shining – we were actually blessed with some sun when we visited. And there’s just something so nostalgic about these trains. Even if you’re no train enthusiast, the beauty of them is evident as soon as you see them.

All aboard!

We’re met by cheerful staff, who check us in and also inform us of an upgrade! So we are shown to a first class private coupe, which was a lovely surprise. The table is laid out with proper linen tablecloths and napkins, and our (pre-ordered) menu choices are displayed on a card on the table, along with some fresh bread and butter. We’re asked if we would like any drinks and I have to say, during our whole time on board, the service was absolutely brilliant. Attentive, but not annoying, they work like clockwork to their schedule. It’s obviously a well-rehearsed service, and the experience and meticulous planning is clear.

It’s very comfortable in our special coupe, the chairs are beautiful. But don’t expect air con or Wi-Fi, charging points or any modern bits. The experience is authentic and it’s really rather lovely not having ‘mod cons’ everywhere. Once you get moving, with the whistle blowing, the chuffing of the train, you’ll settle back in your seat and just enjoy the food and views.

Alan and Naomi settle in for a good lunch

The views and the food though…

Chugging along the 18 miles of railway through the scenic North Yorkshire Moors, we enjoy our starter and main courses. And drinks, including some fizz, obviously. Drinks aren’t included in the price, so anything you order is an additional cost. But cash or card accepted, so it’s easy to pay.

The menus change, but for the record, we had goat’s cheese, pear and walnut tart, and home-made chicken liver pâté with sourdough toasts and sticky onion marmalade. Main courses, we had to try the locally produced roast loin of Yorkshire pork with stuffing, crispy crackling, apple sauce and home-made gravy. And for some balance, the Yorkshire seafood chowder, with succulent chunks of local fish, prawns and mussels in a creamy sauce. The desserts are served after we have a break – more on this below.

Seafood chowder with local fish, prawn and mussels, and roast Yorkshire pork with crackling, apple sauce, crackling and veggies

We were happy – and particularly happy that despite working in a restricted train prep area, the chefs were able to work around my husband’s allergy to onions. Special mention for the homemade pâté, which was delicious. Both main courses were good – the roast had a really good selection of veg. And the chowder was really tasty, lots of fish.

The three-course menu is all very tasty, and paced nicely throughout the journey, so we never feel rushed, but equally never find ourselves looking up and down the corridor in vain, trying to get fed. We get to the end of the first leg and stop at Pickering station for about 10 mins or so. The break is designed to allow for a leg stretch, or the opportunity to take some photos of another unique and pretty station.

Read more: Discover one of London’s best hidden afternoon teas…

And turn around again…

Once everyone is back on board, the train takes the return journey back to Grosmont. Again, you are tended to along the way, with dessert, and coffee or tea served with the most wonderful chocolates I’ve tried for some time. We went for the cheeseboard, and a trio of desserts (lemon posset, white chocolate and raspberry cheesecake, and chocolate tart). Which just about finished us off, as we sat back, happy and full.

Selection of cheese and biscuits. In case you hadn’t worked that out!

I want to mention a really nice touch with the chocolates too. They’re made by Park House Barns, a charity that supports young autistic people to develop work skills. I can vouch for the fact that they’re certainly doing a great job with these choccies.

Full and nicely relaxed, we trundle along the tracks, with everyone you pass waving at the train and its passengers, so of course you wave back. Scenes from the Railway Children aren’t far from our minds. The whole experience is a very relaxed and enjoyable affair, and you cannot help but smile every time you hear the sound of the whistle blowing. There’s just something about how that little noise makes you feel.

For a lunch, it may not be the cheapest of days out. But it’s very enjoyable and certainly relaxing. A lovely experience that’s helped by the well-organised, informative and happy team that tend to you throughout your journey. Give it a go; you won’t be disappointed.

Prices include meals but not drinks – menus change with the seasons
Per person £95
Four-person private coupe £399

North Yorkshire Moors Pullman Dining Trains

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The post Luxury lunch on board a Pullman Dining steam train? Yes please… appeared first on Silver Magazine.

Despite a few po-faced reviews, Plaza Suite is a hoot. Georgia Lewis fights back with her Plaza Suite review. All photos Marc Brenner.

Theatre reviews can be a useful guide to spending your entertainment budget. Especially when ticket prices can set you back the equivalent of a weekend away in Paris. But a large grain of salt should be kept handy. This is the case with reviews of Plaza Suite, starring Sarah Jessica Parker and Matthew Broderick. Who make the most of the chemistry and familiarity that comes with being married for 27 years.

The Daily Mail gave it a nostalgia-infused five stars, the Evening Standard gave it four stars and described it as “sensational”, while The Telegraph’s four-star review punnily opined that it “hits the suite spot.”

…they fizz with fun, physical comedy and farce…

But the Guardian’s Arifa Akbar gave it a miserable two stars, describing it as “dated”, and “flat and forgettable, not testing either actor’s seasoned skills on the boards.”

Never mind that Parker and Broderick are on stage for the entire three-vignette play, each playing three different roles. They alternate between comedy and tragedy for the first vignette that depicts a marriage where hitherto unspoken tensions bubble to the surface within an hour. Then they fizz with fun, physical comedy and farce amid assorted marital home truths for the second and third vignettes.

In his three-star review for Time Out, Andrzej Lukowski agrees that Plaza Suite is “dated”. And feels it would have been better if “a modern sensibility” was applied. Sam Marlowe for The Stage gives it two stars, declaring it a “mechanical museum piece”.

“Dated” is a weird description for a play written by a heterosexual man in 1968 about heterosexual relationships in 1968. And, frankly, there is nothing wrong with a period piece play shining a light on a bygone era.

Setting the scene; the first vignette

Broderick and Parker as Sam and Karen Nash. Photo: Marc Brenner

Of course, if it was written today, the luxury hotel room where all the action takes place would be sleek and minimalist with a Nespresso machine and Netflix on the telly. Instead, the set is a plush beige and gold Room 719 that would have represented the height of sophistication at the time.

The set provides a window on the play’s relationship stories. Hotel rooms are both intimate and impersonal. This is why the suite is the perfect backdrop to efficiently tell three very different stories. The slate is wiped clean for each new tale, as if room service has come by.

And if it was written today, there would probably be at least one same-sex relationship among the three mini-plays. Indeed, there is ample opportunity for an enterprising playwright to try their hand at a modernised adaptation. The trust issues of Sam and Karen Nash, the couple trying and failing to celebrate their 23rd (or possibly 24th…) anniversary in the first vignette, are not exclusive to straight couples.

Read more : Fancy a break away off grid in Wales?

In the second vignette…

Broderick as Jesse Kiplinger. Photo: Marc Brenner

Broderick plays thrice-divorced Hollywood producer Jesse Kiplinger meeting his high school sweetheart, Muriel Tate, who is now a star-struck New Jersey housewife. Parker definitely channels Carrie Bradshaw’s dippier moments for this one. Meanwhile, Broderick is a bitter Austin Powers – and possibly Ferris Bueller’s final form. Jesse and Muriel’s reunion keeps you guessing as to whether they will move from the suite’s living room to the bedroom. It is a light palate cleanser after the escalating seriousness of Sam and Karen’s arguments.

If Jesse and Muriel were gay high school sweethearts, that would certainly add a poignant twist to the lightest of the three stories. It’s easy to imagine them reuniting after a secretive teenage romance. Especially if it took place in less enlightened times – and it would be sadder still if, as adults, the characters were trapped in heterosexual marriages. Again, this is something an enterprising playwright could test at the keyboard.

Marianka Swain’s largely positive four-star review for London Theatre makes the curious criticism that Jesse referring to his ex-wives as “bitches” is jarring. No, it’s realistic. It’s not pleasant language, but it’s not even exclusive to 1968. You’d have to have led a pretty sheltered life if you’d never heard someone refer to their ex as a bitch. Or indeed a bastard. It’s how real people talk, whether it’s 1968 or 2024. If Jesse, a classic Hollywood arsehole, referred to his ex-wives as “horrid”, THAT would be jarring.

The third vignette…

Parker and Broderick as Norma and Roy Hubley. Photo: Marc Brenner

Where high farce and physical comedy are ramped up to Mach 5, centres on Roy and Norma Hubley. A long-married couple desperately trying to coax their daughter Mimsey out of the bathroom on her wedding day. Anyone who has been involved in wedding dramas will relate. Especially if you have ever said, “Well, they’ll have to go through with it now. Too much money has been spent already!”

My imagined enterprising playwright might want to make the family non-white. Perhaps with a deft touch to avoid cheap stereotypes about weddings in different cultures. Or perhaps Mimsey has cold feet about marrying her bride, while the hapless Roy and the magnificently-hatted Norma are desperate to show the world how open-minded they are.

I would pay good money to see a modernised adaptation of Plaza Suite

But equally, on my visit, the diverse London audience related to the universal themes of distrust, jealousy, desperation, wondering what might have been, social climbing, uncertainty, temptation, and familiarity breeding contempt. Universality is why the plays of Shakespeare still resonate, whether performed traditionally or given modern updates.

Universality is why the plays of Shakespeare still resonate…

Above all, I recommend Parker and Broderick’s Plaza Suite because it is a lot of fun. Not everything needs to make a big political point. Their performances bounce around the stage like exuberant pinballs, the costumes and wigs are almost characters in their own right. And even if the beige and gold hotel room isn’t to your taste, you might just enjoy the two leads throwing themselves into their roles with the full force of their true star power.

At the end of the day, showbusiness is still a business. The proof of the pudding is in bums on seats – and Plaza Suite run has been extended. The people and their wallets have spoken.

Book Plaza Suite tickets here

Georgia Lewis

In a career that has spanned Australia, the Middle East and the UK, Georgia has written about all sorts of things, including sex, cars, food, oil and gas, insurance, fashion, travel, workplace safety, health, religious affairs, glass and glazing… When she’s not writing words for fun and profit, she can usually be found with a glass of something French and red in her hand.

The post Plaza Suite review: A fun period piece with star power appeared first on Silver Magazine.

The latest West End incarnation of Sunset Boulevard is bold and compelling. It is a radical departure from elaborate stage productions or the lavish sets of the 1950 film starring Gloria Swanson as Norma Desmond, the faded Hollywood star desperate to make a comeback (or “return”, as she prefers to call it…) with a script that we’re led to believe is appalling and inappropriate for a woman of her years.

Instead of complicated set changes, the staging is sparse. Instead of sumptuous old Hollywood costumes, the cast wear simple black and white, including Nicole Scherzinger and Rachel Tucker in their interpretations of Norma. They spend their time on stage in a black, silky slip that works as a nightgown, a day dress with sunglasses and a cocktail frock with a party hat.

Rachel Tucker, starring as Norma Desmond

And it is because of the production’s raw minimalism that there is nowhere for anyone to hide. Their collective talent is crucial to this Sunset’s success. For Scherzinger and Tucker, this means their faces are projected on enormous screens during the show. Extreme close-ups.

Even in black and white, which tends to be kinder to lines, lumps, bumps and spots, it is too easy to call these two women “brave” for allowing their visages to be scrutinised by the audience. Equally, I would be lying if I said I didn’t gasp at the thought of my 47-year-old face projected 30 feet high in the Savoy, with the crows’ feet I resolutely refuse to Botox and textured remnants of teenage acne out there for everyone to see.

…we are still plagued by the pitiful notion that older famous women should look good for their age in a way that is not expected of men

But this is where we are. Sunset Boulevard is just as relevant in 2023 as it was in 1950 when it comes to how we view women who have the temerity to show their faces after 40.

Sure, things have improved for women over 40 in Hollywood, but we are still plagued by the pitiful notion that older famous women should look good for their age in a way that is not expected of men. They are free to become silver foxes, with cragginess seen as sexy in a way that is never allowed for women. While there is nothing wrong with age-gap relationships in the real world, Hollywood scripts still allow much older actors to hook up with much younger actresses in a way that seldom happens the other way around, unless the whole point of the story is that the woman is a cougar.

Norma’s desperation to still be seen as young and vital is integral to the Sunset Boulevard story, highlighted by the appearances of Hannah Yun Chamberlain as Young Norma, who is flexible and smooth-skinned. She hires Joe Gillis, a sexy-but-struggling young writer played by Tom Francis, to administer first-aid on her Salome script in the vain hope that Cecil B. De Mille will direct her in the title role. How we all laugh when she is adamant that she can play a teenaged Biblical character.

Nicole Sherzinger and Tom Francis as Norma Desmond and Joe Gillis

There are a couple of very telling lines that reflect what everyone is thinking about Norma Desmond’s comeback.

“Norma Desmond? She must be a million years old.”

“Nothing wrong with being 40, unless you’re acting 20.”

Yep, 40 is the new 1,000,000. Laughter rippled softly around the theatre both times I saw this incarnation of Sunset Boulevard when Norma was criticised for “acting 20”, which is code for trying to conform to ridiculous standards of physical beauty, while refusing to fade away or, at the very least, having the decency to grow old gracefully. How dare Norma try to relive past glories, as if she is Mae West, stubbornly playing blonde saucepot roles into her 80s.

It is in these moments, which are genuinely more heartbreaking and depressing than comic, that we see the main differences between Scherzinger’s and Tucker’s interpretations of Norma Desmond’s desperation and descent…

As Scherzinger’s face is projected onto the big screen, her eyes become big and wild and there is a hint of Joan Collins-style campiness to her expressions. It sounds ludicrous, but it works. As she loses her grip on the grim realities of Hollywood for women, she becomes a sad, cartoonish figure, genuinely horrified that her star is fizzling out.

Tucker’s facial expressions are more measured, but equally compelling. Where Scherzinger is wild-eyed and angrily resentful, Tucker’s Norma comes across as a sad woman on the brink, knowing that the curtain is coming down on her career. She is more than a little scared about her fate, while still trying to fight cruel inevitability.

Between the two female leads, they capture the gamut of women’s experiences of ageing in the spotlight – denial that they’re considered too old, fear of irrelevance, sheer horror at being told to act their age, grim determination to fight, validation through sex and admiration, and heartbreaking resignation – which is why I strongly recommend seeing both Scherzinger and Tucker’s interpretations, if time and budget allow.

In contrast, Cecil B. De Mille’s age is never an issue. He is a Tinseltown elder statesman, a man respected for his years of experience. Nobody ever suggests he is past it. The audience only ever sees the back of his head. His appearance is not an issue. Meanwhile, Betty Schaeffer, the ambitious young studio exec, played by star-in-the-making Grace Hodgett Young, is torn between career and personal life and you leave the theatre with the feeling that she will never quite have it all.

On one level, it is depressing that a 73-year-old story about an ageing woman is still relevant. At the same time, this stark, confronting new production, regardless of who is playing the lead, shines a harsh, unforgiving light on our own prejudices about women, whether we’re famous or not. And it’s a light that still needs to burn.

Midlife is a time for change, not the mythical “midlife crisis” – Read more

Georgia Lewis

In a career that has spanned Australia, the Middle East and the UK, Georgia has written about all sorts of things, including sex, cars, food, oil and gas, insurance, fashion, travel, workplace safety, health, religious affairs, glass and glazing… When she’s not writing words for fun and profit, she can usually be found with a glass of something French and red in her hand.

The post What the latest Sunset Boulevard production tells us about older women appeared first on Silver Magazine.

It is perhaps serendipity that what was once the Raymond Revuebar is now the setting for Bernie Dieter’s Club Kabarett. Back in the 1970s, Raymond’s club hailed itself as ‘The World Centre of Erotic Entertainment.’ And several decades on, Club Kabarett may just be the sexiest show in London town right now.

Even the brand spanking newly refurbed bar/club – all polished concrete, smooth surfaces, glass walkways and flashing scarlet neon – is pretty darned seductive. But then production company ‘Underbelly’ – they of the big purple elephant fame – always go that extra mile, as anyone who’s seen their award-winning shows at the Edinburgh Fringe or on London’s Southbank will attest. The company has taken over the former Revuebar, sprinkled stardust over it, and renamed it Underbelly Boulevard.

It’s a rainy autumnal night when we pitch up at the UB in Walker’s Court, Soho. After a glass of bubbles, our sense of excitement is also fizzing as we queue up to get into the theatre proper. There’s already an element of wondering just what will await us on the other side.

Rows of seats circling a small, round stage, that’s what, with a punky three-piece band playing at the rear of the venue. And also a balcony offering a great view of the stage. The balcony is where we are seated. It’s a plus for two reasons. A) The view of the stage is excellent. And B) there’s no chance of being selected as an audience participant. While I enjoy a bit of AP, I don’t if I’m one of the chosen few.

I’m also loving the low lighting, bathing the mini-arena in reds and blues and purples. It feels intimate and, yes, sexy. Especially as ‘down below’, girls in PVC and lads in Lycra strut up and down like a kind of slightly kinked warm-up for the first appearance of MC Miss Dieter herself.

Miss Dieter herself

Bernie Dieter’s Club Kabarett is the very first show to take to the stage at Underbelly Boulevard. Born in the former east Germany, Dieter has been described as ‘the first lady of Weimar punk cabaret’ and is a cross between Lady Gaga, Marlene Dietrich and Frank-N-Furter from The Rocky Horror Show in sequins. Let’s just say she’s sure as hell no shy, retiring type.

Bedecked in tassels, feathers, a Westwood-style kilt, ripped fishnets and sparkly stilettos, she struts onto the stage like she owns the place. Which she kind of does for the next few months. She’s seductive, sultry and velvet-voiced but also a bit scary – a tantalising combo of allure and menace. Within minutes, she’s straddling a male audience member in the front row before enlisting the help of two others whom she dubs ‘Shaven Haven’ and ‘Silver Fox’ to carry her back to the stage, legs akimbo.

Once back-on-the-boards, she announces that what we are about to witness is all about ‘letting loose, letting go, and getting a little bit intimate.’ Aided by the ‘punky, freaky and weirdo’ acts she will introduce us to over the next 90 minutes. This is interspersed at interludes with the lady herself taking to the stage in an array of different costumes and singing songs with racy lyrics, such as one which regales the tale of how she was fed gin by her Oma (granny) when she was just knee-high to a stiletto.

First up is Blue Phoenix, who twirls his unbelievably flexible and barely-covered body, complete with sky-scraper 12-inch heels on his feet, around a mid-stage, hastily-erected pole. It’s muscle town, sinew city – total brawnsville. And, yeah, we can see why he won Mr Pole Dance World last year.

It’s a real heart-in-mouth moment – several of ‘em actually – to witness aerial duo, The Seifart Sisters, contort and bend around each other with sublime skill and subtlety. This would be impressive enough on terra firma, but they do what they do mid-air. And without any kind of safety net.

A very different aerial act arrives in the form of the balletic Joe Keeley whose body weaves in and out of attached-to-the-ceiling, stage-trailing silks with such grace it’s as if he were another piece of fabric. The act of muscley drag queen Adam Malone, who apparently ran away to join the circus at a young age, is one of a kind. Let’s just say, I never imagined that a teabag and teaspoon could be used in such an inventive way. Looks a bit painful to me but Adam doesn’t flinch.

Then there’s high-octane, highflyer Bella Diosa. She contorts her amazing body into some eye-watering positions, she eats fire, she hangs by her hair… just one of these would do for me! One can but dream.

So, to conclude, if you happen to be in the Smoke, I can think of no better way to spend a pre- or post-Christmas cold winter’s evening than being warmly and weirdly entertained by the magnificent Miss D and her troupe of remarkable ‘reprobates’. I run into our hostess on the way out and ask her if the gin thing is true. ‘One hundred percent,’ she smiles. ‘Proof!’ Rather like her show, then!

To have your own night at the Kabarett…
Tickets from £25
21st November – 6th January 2024
Get your Kabarett tickets today

Alison James

The post Oh Kabarett, oh Kabarett! A sexy Soho show to remember appeared first on Silver Magazine.

It was one of those delightful and unexpected surprises. The hotel and its bars and restaurants are tucked away in a quiet part of London, but once you step inside, you’re in for a treat. This is one of the best places for afternoon tea in London, I decided. We even made a little TikTok for it!

We started off with a glass of chilled Veuve Clicquot, a good champagne for day drinking, I find

Me and my guest, John, cracked our knuckles and got involved. I’m rather fond of afternoon tea, particularly when it kicks off with a glass of chilled fizz. We settled into The Parlour, a lovely space that oozes charm with its black and white checked floors and potted plants. The space has got more than a touch of the old Art Deco vibe. So far, so good.

And this is a nice thing – they allow dogs – positively welcome them in fact. I wished I’d brought Alice pug, the Dowager Duchess, along for the adventure. Although I suspect John might have struggled with the snorting and scratching through our tea. But they even have a special doggie afternoon tea with doggie cakes – how adorable is that?

Anyway, let’s get to the good stuff

We started off our afternoon tea experience with a glass of chilled Veuve Clicquot, a good champagne for day drinking, I find. And then came the tea selection. I’m a fan of a strong brew, so I went for the Assam tea, while John went for a clean and zesty lemon and ginger thing.

The savoury tower came out first, and we dug into ham and pea pastries and a bunch of sandwiches – we had smoked salmon, coronation chicken, and egg mayonnaise. All brilliant. I love little sandwiches – they taste so much nicer than big ones, don’t they. And I particularly like coronation chicken. Oh, and there was a savoury Yorkshire pud thing with cheesy goo inside, which was fun, but which we both found a bit oniony.

Read more: Review of Soho House Brighton

Let’s talk about the real stars of the show

The cakes and sweets were definitely the triumphs here. They brought out two sets of scones, some with raisins, some without, along with generous dollops of clotted cream and the most heavenly summer berry jam that wasn’t too sweet. The cakes are beautifully crafted – I’m not much of a baker but even I can tell when a lot of work has gone into a pastry or cake. These are little works of art.

My personal fave was a zingy mini lemon tart thing (pictured in the header image at the top of this piece) that wasn’t even on the menu. I loved it because it wasn’t ghastly sweet like some lemon tarts can be. And then there was a berry choux bun with elderflower mousse that was, hands down, one of the best cakes I’ve ever had. We decided that although aesthetically beautiful, the rose and pistachio cake was probably a bit hefty on the rose water side. But lovers of Turkish delight will, er, delight in it.

Rose and pistachio layered cake, Summer berry choux and elderflower mousse

Throughout the whole shebang, the service was top-notch. Our tea pots were constantly filled up, and the staff made sure we were well looked after. Obviously I went for a nose around the rest of the hotel, and loved the loos. Quirky and fun, just like the rest of the place. You can tell a lot about a place by its loos.

A good place for tea

A few snaps around the hotel

All in all, the Great Scotland Yard Hotel’s afternoon tea was a win. At £59pp a pop, it’s a treat, but a good deal for the quality and experience you get. And if you fancy going all out, you can go for the Champagne Afternoon Tea, which includes a glass of Veuve Clicquot Yellow Label Brut, NV, for £70. But, hey, why stop there? If you’re feeling fancy and want infinite champagne, go for the Infinite Champagne Afternoon Tea at £89. You crazy kids.

And here’s a little insider info: The Parlour’s current Afternoon Tea is a cool collaboration between the posh Great Scotland Yard Hotel and Floris London, a swanky perfumery with a Royal Warrant. Their legendary fragrances inspired the mouthwatering treats, all whipped up by the brilliant head pastry chef, Verónica Garrido Martinez.

So, there you have it, folks. If you’re up for a hidden gem of an afternoon tea in London, the Great Scotland Yard Hotel is the bee’s knees. Perfect for impressing clients, catching up with pals, or treating your special someone to a little slice of British indulgence. Cheers!

Great Scotland Yard Hotel

Prices

AFTERNOON TEA £59

CHAMPAGNE AFTERNOON TEA £70
served with a glass of Veuve Clicquot Yellow Label Brut, NV

INFINITE CHAMPAGNE AFTERNOON TEA* £89

MENU

SAVOURY
Peas and lardons quiche
Chicken coronation on brown bread
Smoked salmon, dill, crème fraiche on malted bread
Egg truffle mayo and chives on pain de mie (V)
Shallot and Montgomery cheddar Yorkshire Pudding (V)

WARM SCONES
Freshly baked plain and raisin scones
Cornish clotted cream and summer berry jam

ASSORTMENT OF TEA CAKES & PASTRIES
Summer berry choux and elderflower mousse
Rose and pistachio layered cake
Jasmine and bergamot mousse

Sam Harrington-Lowe

Sam is Silver’s founder and editor-in-chief. She’s largely responsible for organising all the things, but still finds time to do the odd bit of writing. Not enough though. Send help.

The post Buried treasure: one of the best places for afternoon tea in London appeared first on Silver Magazine.

And he’s got a point. Think of Scotland, and you probably think of haggis, kilts, the Loch Ness Monster, whisky… and yes, possibly shortbread. Even Sean Connery, probably. And in fairness, all of these things are really rather Scottish. But I went for a short break in Inverness recently and discovered there’s a whole lot more going on.

So what was I doing in Scotland?

I had a lovely invite to go and see a new hotel, the AC Marriott Inverness. Ordinarily it would be a bit of a stretch to entice me to travel so far for a hotel launch (I live in Sussex). But chuck in some whisky tasting, dolphin-spotting, and the Red Hot Chilli Pipers, and I’m your girl.

…chuck in some whisky tasting, dolphin-spotting, and the Red Hot Chilli Pipers, and I’m your girl.

I had desperately wanted to travel up on the Caledonian Sleeper train, because I LOVE LOVE LOVE sleeper trains (like the Riviera Sleeper down to Cornwall)!

But the rotters wouldn’t cough up for a press ticket, and the price was just too ridiculously high – either for me or the client to pay. So I flew. A very efficient and pleasant flight from Gatwick to Inverness, thanks to Easyjet. Yah boo sucks to the Caledonian Sleeper.

Landing in bonnie Scotland at about 8.30pm, I leapt straight in a cab and headed for my host – the new AC Marriott Inverness.

The bar area at the hotel

First impressions of the hotel?

Most favourable – a huge open space for the bar, restaurant, and fireside area, which feels both grand and cosy at the same time. I could see people bustling around having food and drink. Great, I thought. Dump bags, freshen up, and have some dinner.

Unfortunately, whilst checking in, nobody thought to inform me that the kitchens close at 9pm – and it never occurred to me to ask. So by the time I came back down for dinner, access denied.

You all know what it’s like to be tired, and hungry, and just want to eat and drop. So you can imagine my reaction when the incredibly young-looking bar steward suggested I get some crisps from the snack counter in reception!

Fortunately, someone with a bit more hospitality experience recognised my imminent explosion and organised a delicious platter of meats and cheeses etc. Word to the wise though, dinner orders stop at 9pm.

Photo: Sam Harrington-Lowe

What about the hotel though?

Very happy with the hotel. First impressions count, and there’s a lovely buzz when you walk in. It feels light, and airy, but at the same time not that sort of airplane-hangar feel that some venues have. I think it’s the lower ceilings. It manages to convey a sense of intimacy, even though the floor space is pretty big.

My bedroom is great; clutter-free and gentle on the eye with muted tones. I was lucky enough to have a Superior Room, so I had a view over the River Ness, which I loved. As you’d expect from a new hotel, it’s clean and fresh, and I’ve got a coffee machine and a fridge, which always pleases me. Nice new bed stock – I slept like a log – and an excellent shower. These things are important.

Superior Room at the AC Marriott Inverness

The reason for my being at the hotel – along with other journalists and influencers from all over the UK and beyond – was to see its official grand unveiling, and party with them. Hence the Red Hot Chilli Pipers, who were playing at the launch do. So whilst I was there, there were a lot of ‘firsts’ going on around the hotel, and a feeling of growing excitement as the party night drew nearer.

Day 1 – Singleton Distillery visit and private dining

Meantime, we were treated to some local fun! I posted on my Facebook page something to the effect of ‘I’m at a whisky distillery in Scotland, what could possibly go wrong?’ which drew predictably hilarious responses.

Singleton Distillery – the tour and tasting. Photos: Sam Harrington-Lowe

But actually the visit to the Singleton Distillery in the Muir of Ord was more educational than libational. I learned an awful lot about the making of whisky, and had a fascinating tour of the works. But genuinely the most intriguing part for me was the tasting.

Did you know that three drops of water from a pipette can COMPLETELY alter what whisky does in your mouth?

Did you know that three drops of water from a pipette can COMPLETELY alter what whisky does in your mouth? I didn’t; I’m not really a whisky drinker. Having tasted a mouthful of the Singleton 12-year-old single malt and noted its fire – all front-of-mouth action, slightly tingling – we then added three drops of water to the whisky, and the difference was extraordinary. And I expect whisky aficionados will know all this, but this was a revelation to me. It transformed it. Much smoother, far less prickle.

And yes, we tasted all their single malts, and oh my word yes, I brought some home. Not that there’s much left now. Turns out I rather like decent Scotch.

The hotel really pulled out the stops for a wonderful evening, once we’d got back and changed. Kicking off with cocktails and canapes in the loungey fireside area, there followed a stupendous meal in a private room.

Canapes, cocktails, and the private dining room. Photos: Sam Harrington-Lowe

AC Marriott’s Head of Commercial, John Farrelly, over from Amsterdam for the knees-up, had been kicked out as he was using it as his office! But what a cracking meal. A treat-filled, Scottish-inspired tasting menu, with perfect wine pairing, and an astonishing dessert (pictured far right in the top image).

Our menu for the night. Photo: Sam Harrington-Lowe

Day 2 – Dolphin spotting

I didn’t know you could go dolphin spotting in Scotland. But in the Moray Firth, sightings of bottlenose dolphins are common, which is exciting. The stretch that the Dolphin Spirit guys sail in is home to heaps of other wildlife too. There’s a lot to see, like seals, otters, and birdlife.

The guides on the boats are extremely knowledgeable about the flora and fauna in the area. And they can recognise different dolphins, affectionately giving them names. The experience we went on is called the Mischief Wildlife Experience, and the boat we went out on travels through Chanonry Point where dolphins are spotted.

Dophin Spotting on Mischief

It’s worth noting that dolphins are spotted on over 90% of Mischief trips, so if dolphin spotting is your thing, this is a jolly good bet.

We were also extremely lucky – the sun shone brilliantly for us. What a day to be out on the water. Dolphins were spotted, and lots of birds etc too. The Mischief, as you might expect from such a name, is a fast and fun ride (pictured). But if you wanted something more leisurely, there are cruises as well.

Party time

Back to the hotel, where everything was madness! Staging, lighting, food stations, hundreds of people all charging around setting up for the party ahead. The kitchen had very sensibly organised a little lunchbag of food for us in our room to keep us out of the way. I shook out my gladrags, leapt in the shower and tried to make myself presentable for the do.

Stepping out of the lift on the ground floor was like walking into a completely different place! I always love how magical it is when event experts do their thing, and transform spaces. There was a guy playing a grand piano and singing jazz numbers, people dressed up to the nines. Wine and drinks on tap – all the makings of a great start.

Just a tiny section of the party food

Once I’d circulated a bit and met some of the team, including the hotel general manager Dianna Bruce, I got properly stuck in. The food was heavenly – such an exciting smorgasbord, of exceptionally high quality. I’m not sure I’ve ever reached a point before where I have had enough seafood and serrano ham, but there you go. Thank you AC Marriott Inverness for finding my breaking point.

I’m not sure I’ve ever reached a point before where I have had enough seafood and serrano ham

Actually I will just talk about the head chef here, Ian MacKenzie, 42, who grew up in Inverness and has joined the AC Marriott. He’s headed ‘back home’ following a 15-year stint catering as private chef on tour with the likes of Lizzo, J-Lo, Elton John, Beyonce, Paul McCartney and Jayzee.

The demand for luxury food that he’s been used to meeting is clear from the standard of fare throughout the whole hotel. Whether it’s breakfast with its homemade baked bean, frittatas, and slabs of honeycomb, or the brunch options with classic hints of Scottish tradition throughout, the food at the hotel is exceptional. And I don’t say that lightly.

Time for a dance

After an enormous amount of food, and gallons of cocktails and wine had been consumed by the great and good of Inverness and beyond, the Red Hot Chilli Pipers hit the stage and piped up a storm. Yours truly, capering around at the front of the crowd, half-cut, predictably got picked out by the singer and brought up on stage to join in. In heels too. I’m just impressed with myself that I didn’t fall over. No I’m not showing you the photo.

The Red Hot Chilli Pipers kicking it. Photo: Sam Harrington-Lowe

But it was all over far too soon; I could have capered for Scotland for hours. The Pipers departed the stage to huge cheers, and, energised by the rousing noise, the party continued at a vastly increased decibel rate.

The next morning I woke up, tongue like Gandhi’s flipflop and so forth, and staggered into the shower. I had a chaotic morning and breakfast.

My chaos, not theirs, I should add – I tipped a glass of water into my phone charger blowing up the plug, and filling one of my trainers at the same time. Crushed a boiled egg being clumsy, and covered myself in yoke; dropped brown sauce in all the other condiments; and split the teabag in my cup, filling it with tea leaves. But I made it back to the airport, and on to the plane in one piece and flew home, mostly snoozing loudly with my earplugs in.

Thank you Inverness, and good night!

The useful stuff

AC Marriott Inverness website
Room prices vary throughout the year, but I found some starting around £120 per night (July ’23)
Largest hotel in Inverness with 191 rooms

Singleton Distillery website
The distillery is located in the beautiful Muir of Ord, a stone’s throw from the Highland capital of Inverness.
The ‘Experience’ is a 90-minute round trip, with a tasting, and there’s a bar, and a huge shop packed with a stunning collection of whiskies to buy.

The Dolphin Spirit website
Cruises start at £21 pp and take 75 mins. The speedy RIB trip on Mischief starts at £49 pp and is a couple of hours.

Sam Harrington-Lowe

Sam is Silver’s founder and editor-in-chief. She’s largely responsible for organising all the things, but still finds time to do the odd bit of writing. Not enough though. Send help.

The post A short break in Inverness is a feast for the senses appeared first on Silver Magazine.

As the flat race season is under way at Doncaster, and the sun is starting to show itself a bit, let me tell you about a secret place I have discovered. Ladies and gents, my review of the olde worlde/modern fusion luxury venue that is Ye Olde Bell in Retford. Where modern spa meets historical venue.

If (like me) you have no clue where Retford is, it’s in the middle of the UK, halfway between London and Edinburgh. It’s perfectly positioned for Doncaster, for those of you who love the gee-gees. And it’s also close to Lincoln, Nottingham, and Sheffield.

All photos: Sam Harrington-Lowe

It’s a bit of a mad place

Ye Olde Bell is one of those wonderful dichotomies that on paper shouldn’t work. At its heart, it’s an old, historical venue, as the name suggests, dating back to the 17^th century. It rose to prominence because of its situation between north and south, and the growth of the postal service, whose horses needed a break halfway.

From the outside you’d be forgiven for thinking it was a steak house or similar. But it’s much more than that. It’s now also home to a very modern, beautifully-equipped state-of-the-art modern spa, with some new lodges as part of the accommodation offering, as well as the historical venue. It’s a mad mash-up, I’ll grant you. But it works.

So what did I do when I was there?

I travelled up from London on an Azuma LNER train on a Sunday, which was great. No messing about – on to the train, plenty of space, power sockets, decent seats. When it’s done right, trains are the nuts.

Arriving on a Sunday at Retford, which is a dinky little station, there were no taxis, so that’s something to be aware of. If you want a taxi, plan ahead. There is a helpful list of taxi numbers at the bottom of this article.

The Olde Bell was absolutely heaving when I got there, with a Rolls Royce luncheon bunfight, and a wedding, I think, all going on at the same time. I had thought I might have a roast, but no chance, absolutely booked solid.

I asked my smooth-talking bar steward for help, who recommended a local pub called the White Horse. “Tell them Billy sent you,” he said, “and you’ll be fine.”

Stonking plate of pie and mash at the White Horse

Found the pub fine, they all had a chuckle about Billy. Some shenanigans there, I think. And I sat down and had an utterly stonking plate of pie and mash, which was heavenly. Not for the first time I observed how different it is ‘up north’. Everyone so friendly and chatty – it sounds like a cliché but as with most clichés, it’s rooted in truth. Even the cabbie was nice.

And that was about my lot for Sunday. After the travelling, and enough carbs to sink a ship, I was done for. So I went to my room, in a beautiful, self-contained modern two-floor lodge, lay down and fell into a food coma. I’d been due to have dinner that night but I moved it to the following evening. It was a sensible move.

Read more: review of the Soho House Brighton Beach House restaurant

Heading to the modern spa

Sparkly spa entrance

God I love a spa. Having had a very relaxed evening and a very good breakfast at the Olde Bell’s 1650 restaurant, I couldn’t wait to get into the relaxation vibe. They have spa butlers! How cool? I wandered into the large, airy reception, through the sparkly hallway, and into the land of lounging.

I had treatments, of course. A massage at 11:15, which knocked me on my back. Or front, really. I love a good working over, and having settled into relaxation mode, the massage just about finished me off. I got up from the massage table in a very relaxed state, trying not to dribble and desperately hoping my legs would still carry me. And then I entered the ‘Sabbia Med’.

Now, I’ve had a few spa treatments in my life, but this is a first for me. I’m not entirely sure how I feel about it – they have a room that is filled with sand, which plays gentle beachy sounds. Waves, bird noises etc. It’s low-lit, and warm, and has deck chairs.

Sabbia Med room

Did I like it?

Honestly, I don’t know. I was in there on my own, my feet in the sand, listening to the waves. I think for some people it might work. Me, I kinda sat there looking around a bit like a bored child, giggling to myself a bit.

I didn’t hate it, but found myself wondering if there was a camera watching the room and it became a bit Portmerion-like. I don’t want to say Prisoner-like, because obviously the door wasn’t locked. But I wouldn’t book it again. Some people might really like it though – it’s very ‘ambient’. Maybe another day I might be able to relax into the seaside noises. But anyway. Let’s move on.

The ‘real’ outside is a relaxing joy

…it puts Champneys to shame, to be honest. Much cleaner and newer too.

Having left the surreal beach room, I made my way for a good nose round the rest of the modern spa. Look at the lovely outside pool thing with all its bubbles and water features! It’s one of those inside/outside pools with jacuzzi features all round it, and the outside area is filled with gorgeous huts and fire pits. This is my happy place. I spent a fair bit of time just hanging out here, going in and out of the water, reading a book, and generally being incredibly indolent. 

One should also point out that there are a ton of other facilities, such as the steam room, snow storm walk, sauna, mineral mud rasul – there really is something for everyone here. I had a go in the steam room, and wish now that I’d tried the snow walk. But there is a lot of exceptional options here – it puts Champneys to shame, to be honest. Much cleaner and newer too.

The outside area of the pool spa bit

Inside part of the spa pool

I completely ate my own head off

Lunch at the spa was a stormer, courtesy of an unexpectedly sumptuous set menu – I had tandoori spiced fishcakes with pickles to start, followed by pork fillet wrapped in Pancetta with all sorts of rooty vegetable stuff.

Pork fillet wrapped in pancetta

I am ashamed to say I couldn’t manage pudding, but I did have the recommended vino, a very decent Gavi. Make a note – if you’re planning lunch at the spa, maybe go easy on the breakfast. And definitely do any kind of exercise before eating!

Back to historical venue for food

It seems astonishing I had room for food after lunch, but I gamely soldiered on in the name of research. Ever the professional.

Organic beetroot and juniper-cured salmon with wasabi mayo, followed by (off the specials board) calves’ liver with black pudding terrine and greens all found their way in. And it was as good as it looks in the photos. The food here is exemplary.

Did I have pudding? Well yes, behold your heroic reviewer! Bow down to my extraordinary ability to eat myself stupid. I picked another special, the warm blackberry bakewell tart with clotted cream ice cream.

Juniper cured salmon with wasabi mayo

Calves liver with black pudding terrine and greens. Photo: Sam Harrington-Lowe

Blackberry Bakewell tart with clotted cream ice cream

Finally, departure

Friends, I was unable to manage much at breakfast the next day. I didn’t want to have a coronary on the train home. I left the Olde Bell feeling very happy, very relaxed, and very reluctant to go.

HELPFUL DEETS

Rooms starting from £120 for one person per night in a small single. Expect to pay considerably more for a lodge or Superior Room, with suites and lodges hitting the £300-400 mark. Still good value, if you ask me.

Ye Olde Bell

The London North Easterly Railway service London Kings Cross to Retford prices vary massively.

LNER trains

Taxi rank at Retford

Taxi rank is immediately opposite station entrance. Advance booking is advisable. Local operators: Earlybird 01777 700678 (wheelchair accessible taxi available), Hinchcliffe’s 01777 702049, Shelley’s 01777 700108, Target Taxis 01777 248948 (wheelchair accessible taxi available).

Sam Harrington-Lowe

Sam is Silver’s founder and editor-in-chief. She’s largely responsible for organising all the things, but still finds time to do the odd bit of writing. Not enough though. Send help.

The post Ye Olde Bell Retford – where modern spa meets historical venue appeared first on Silver Magazine.

Some of the best books to take on holiday; five of the best, in fact.

There is nothing that can make you tear through a book like taking it on holiday (major disclaimer: not if you’re on holiday with children. Let’s assume you’re not).

Of course, you need the right kind of holiday book. It shouldn’t involve too much concentration, unless you’re the kind of person who takes Proust in your luggage (and I have been known to do this, and, once when in Italy, Dante – in the original Tuscan, without a translation. I did better than I thought I would…).

But it shouldn’t be mindless. No Da Vinci Code, no 50 Shades of anything. And it’s nice if it involves travel, especially to the place you’re travelling to.

1. The Golden Rule, Amanda Craig

Craig’s latest novel, just out in paperback, is a nifty potboiler. Two women on a train are having hellish times with their husbands, so they agree, in the manner of Highsmith, and Hitchcock in Strangers on a Train, to murder each other’s. The idea being that with nothing to connect them, the crimes can be committed with impunity.

Of course, as with the original story, it all goes horribly wrong. Like Craig’s last book, The Lie of the Land, which is at least as good, the plot cranks up, until by the end there’s a race against time to stop something really terrible happening.

Craig is concerned about the state of the nation, so we get a lot about the class system and how ghastly things are for Cornish natives. The Lie of the Land was about how ghastly things are for people in Devon. Chances are you won’t be going abroad this year, so take one or the other depending on which county you’re going to.

The Golden Rule by Amanda Craig (Little, Brown)
£8.99 paperback, £16.99 hardback

2. Widowland, CJ Carey

It is a by-law in most parts of the country that each holiday cottage must contain a copy of Richard Harris’s Fatherland, his novel set in an imaginary past where the Nazis won World War II. But you’ve all read that by now, haven’t you? So try this one for your alternate history fix: a new novel by an established writer normally known as Jane Thynne.

Thynne/Carey has, with her Clara Vine novels, considerable experience when it comes to writing books set during the last war. Here, though, we are in 1953, in a miserably Nazi-occupied Britain, very plausibly imagined.

Our heroine, Rose, is employed rewriting literary classics to conform with the authorities’ stifling attitude towards women. You know, make Dorothea Casaubon or Jane Eyre less intelligent and independent, that kind of thing. Women are divided into categories, depending on their utility as baby-providers.

So as well as Harris, it’s also 1984 meets The Handmaid’s Tale. As I was reading this I was thinking, “hang on, there was something the Nazis did which was even worse than this”, but it gradually becomes apparent that Carey knows very well what she’s doing.

Widowland by CJ Carey (Quercus Publishing)
£8.99, £14.99 hardback

3. Journey by Moonlight, Antal Szerb

This 1937 Hungarian novel wasn’t translated into English until 2001 and a lot of people are now very happy it has been. The translator, Len Rix, learned Hungarian precisely to translate this book, which cultured Hungarians consider to be absolutely essential reading.

It’s narrated by Mihály, a man for whom the word “diffident” might have been coined. He accidentally, or accidentally-on-purpose, abandons his wife Erzi during their honeymoon and then goes wandering through Italy in a kind of existentialist daze.

It’s a book with serious themes – such as the Hungarian fascination with suicide – yet it deals with them with such a tender, humorous grace that you don’t feel as if you’re reading anything substantial at all. Until you get to the end and realise you’ve just read one of the best novels ever written. And feel like starting it again.

I’ve recommended this novel perhaps more often than I have any other, and I’ve never had any complaints yet. If you’re holidaying in Wales, read his The Pendragon Legend, which is more of a romp, with ghosts and spies and castles, like a grown-up Tintin adventure.

Journey by Moonlight by Antal Szerb (Pushkin Press)
£8.99 paperback

4. Killing Floor, Lee Child

Frankly, anything featuring Child’s errant army veteran, Jack Reacher, will do. Killing Floor, from 1997, is the first. If you haven’t come across him, Reacher is a giant of a man; an ex-military policeman with more than a touch of the Sherlock Holmes about him. Peripatetic, whose only luggage is an ATM card, travelling toothbrush, an expired US passport. And the clothes he stands up in.

He travels by Greyhound bus or hitchhikes all over the US, and always ends up, despite wanting a quiet life, involved in the most heinous plots. Often in out-of-the-way places, but he does get to go to New York or Paris or London every so often.

He is usually up against some seriously evil hombres and the odds are stacked incredibly against him. But he is as tough as he is smart, and always acts honorably to decent people. Hates racists and misogynists.

We love him. Bonus fact: Lee Child’s prose is impeccable, like stripped-down Chandler.

Killing Floor by Lee Child, (Transworld)
£8.99 paperback

5. Earthly Powers, Anthony Burgess

Many years ago, as a young man, I went on a trip all the way up Italy on the back of a friend’s motorbike. This was my holiday read, and I don’t think I’ve ever had a better one. Burgess had a brain the size of a planet, and this book takes us all around the globe and through the 20thCentury, tackling the big questions of good and evil and whatnot.

And yet without it ever being a strain on the reader. It’s perhaps the most deliberately outrageous opening line of all novels. “It was the afternoon of my 81st birthday, and I was in bed with my catamite when Ali announced that the archbishop had come to see me.”

My Italian motorbike-riding friend, who like many Italians is suspicious of the Catholic Church and homosexuality, read this with a shudder and handed it back to me. I know I said holiday books shouldn’t involve too much concentration – and amazingly, you don’t need too much to enjoy this. Just let it all wash over you.

Earthly Powers by Anthony Burgess (Hutchinson)
£10.99 paperback

 @nicklezard

Nicholas Lezard

Nicholas Lezard has been a freelance writer since God was a boy. He writes the Down and Out column for the New Statesman, and lives in Brighton.

The post Nick Lezard: Five of the best books ever to take on holiday appeared first on Silver Magazine.