Browsing: Hotels

Hotels
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“The Balinese are without doubt the happiest people I have ever met. The contentment certainly rubbed off on me, but then I was staying at the area’s most luxurious residence, Amandari.”

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Jess stays at the perfectly formed Four Seasons Hampshire: “Ha, got them this time!” I whispered excitedly as a knife clattered to the floor at the other end of the restaurant. Bugger, it was a clumsy guest, not a waiter…

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“I know you, sir!” Not the first words you expect when you open the door to room service in St Moritz. Unless you’re royalty or Hollywood A-list. And I was, after all, in Nira Alpina’s finest suite…

Hotels
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“From the plunge pool on our balcony, I can see the sand, smell the salt and hear the rustle of the waves as they kick up against the shore across the road. If there’s a better spot for a sundowner in the world, I don’t know it.”

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Look behind closed doors and you’ll find more to Budapest than neo-classical buildings, coffee houses, statues of cowering Ottomans and beef goulash. Symbolic of this is private members’ club Brody House.

Hotels
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Slap bang in the pounding heart of Docklands, Four Seasons Hotel London at Canary Wharf stands sentinel on a bend of the swirling, troubled Thames. Nick Hammond checks into a fifth floor suite, and finds a home from home…

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Spies, intrigues and secret tunnels. London’s St Ermin’s Hotel was the location for gatherings of Winston Churchill’s Special Operations Executive and the notorious spy ring The Cambridge Five. Richelle investigates its secrets…

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Venice’s backbone of culture and trade has imbued it with a sophisticated, pan-cultural sensibility that has only increased through the centuries, writes Shana Ting Lipton, visiting the Luna Hotel Baglioni.

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“We’ll always have Paris.” But which Paris? There’s always been the awe that comes from the tower, pleasures of the Louvre and the gentle cushioning of crepes, but it’s never been anything like this…

Hotels
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The frantic knocks rattle on the door of our hotel room at precisely 5.45am. I stumble out of bed nakedly and reach for a gown. A voice comes through the door, urgent and shrill, with a thick, nicotine-stained sexiness.

Hotels
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As I passed down Charles Street, The Chesterfield Mayfair seemed to cough gently to grab my attention; if it could, I’m sure it would have taken me by the elbow and led me into its cool interior with a reassuring, “This way, Sir.”

Hotels
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From the old safe of lit-up images to the old vending machine sporting vintage logos for Fry’s Turkish delight and Mulford Violets on the lower ground floor, there are plenty of quirky artefacts to feed a greedy visual appetite…

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