I may be the only person who has ever checked in to the Leonard Hotel wearing
Lycra. However, I was there during London Fashion Week, so you can’t be
sure. At least my shorts were black, which is always in fashion. My excuse
is that I had just cycled over from France — easily the most convenient way
to travel from the Continent, if not necessarily the most comfortable. There
was no doorman to greet me, so I pushed my way through the doors and wheeled
the bike over to reception.
“Yes,” said a grumpy woman wearing glasses, who didn’t look up.
“I’d like to check in.”
“One moment.”
Not a good start. But this was to become rather a theme to the stay:
everything seemed too much trouble. They did at least take the bicycle away
and give me a room on the fourth floor. Once I had got into the lift and
closed the doors, I regretted it. The source of global warming is not
aerosols or Chinese power stations. It’s the lift at the Leonard. Normally
when I’m in a space this hot I’m naked and being beaten with birch twigs by
Swedish girls. By the time I reached my floor I was sweating more than on
the ascent of Mont Aigoual. I turned on the tap for a bath. It had one of
those fangled systems to mix the water.
The problem was that only hot water came out. Could the Leonard be the hottest
place to stay in London? Trouble is, nobody, not even an orchid, wants to be
that hot. It was so hot it was impossible to sleep or concentrate. I think
the decor was acceptable — sort of country house in London, large armchairs,
pictures of somebody’s ancestors — but I thought the notebook I made notes
in was going to melt. The bed was too small. The bedside light did not work.
Perhaps it was too hot.
The public spaces are probably the best things about the Leonard, because the
temperature drops below 451F every time somebody opens the doors. There’s a
nice restaurant, even if the lunch menu and dinner menu are the same. It
would suit somebody with the eating habits of Lord Lucan, who lunched on
lamb chops every day. At the Leonard you can eat avocado and prawns,
followed by a steak for lunch. And then repeat the menu for dinner. The
thing I liked best about the Leonard was Sakia, a Polish girl who was there
as I was checking out. I hope she wasn’t so happy because it was her last
day there. I know I was.
Bottom line: Rupert Wright paid £293.75 for bed and
breakfast.
Need to know: The Leonard (020-7935 2010, www.theleonard.com),
15 Seymour Street, London W1.
Sampling the fare: Lunch and dinner was the same, a choice of
steak, salmon or Thai chicken curry. Adequate, if not particularly
inspiring.
Access all areas: No.
Best thing: Sakia, the Polish receptionist.
Worst thing: Did I mention the lift that doubles as a sauna?
Room: 6 out of 10.
Food: 6 out of 10.
Service: 5 out of 10.
Value: 5 out of 10.
