Hedgie Hangs at Duke's
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Tucked away in a cosy nook in St James, Duke’s Hotel is the kind of place favoured by well-heeled, established citizens of the world - people who have effortless social graces and know how to hold a good conversation.
It is therefore not really the place to take an outré Hedgie, but I am a woman who likes to see the best in people and I secretly harboured hopes he might be rehabilitated into polite society. It was not so much the hotel stay that concerned me; I could always lock him in the room and put him in front of CNN. Unfortunately, however, I had promised him one of Duke’s famous martinis and the last time he’d had a grown up drink he got tired and emotional. It was not pretty.
There are more glamorous and glossy hotels in the same five star price bracket. It is not the 'in' place to stay. But for a discerning clientele it is the only place to stay, a base in London that feels intimate and cosy without even trying. And that’s what makes it work. It’s small so that helps. However what also helps is the unseen patina left by repeat visitors: something that can’t be bought from an Italian designer or dreamed up by a PR. We immediately felt at home here. The rooms are not large but the quality is high. We were a little taken aback that there were no toiletries in the bathroom, however, the lack of a few small plastic bottles didn’t ruin our stay.
The martinis at Duke’s are legendary both for their perfection and the fact that they mix them at your table. Along with the classic gin and vodka varieties, there are more seasonal variations like the one I had with passionfruit. It slid down without touching the sides and, as with all good cocktails, I didn’t notice it creep up on me until later.
What about the Hedgie? Well he had hurriedly gone to the bar before me and seemed to have made friends with the next table. At first I thought they were being overly kind to him but then realised it was testimony to the friendliness of this bar. A good hotel bar has character; it has people who are there in the same spirit as you - to watch, to conspire, to engage and to enjoy the parade. Duke’s possesses this in spades. The staff who watch over it are charming, experienced and interact with the guests who love the theatre.
We had been invited to sample dinner so I suggested Hedgie to wave goodbye to his new friends and come along.
“I am very popular,” he said.
“You are indeed,” I replied.
“They liked my stories you know. I must be amusing.”
I ignored him.
I think it’s a little unfortunate that Duke’s restaurant is in the basement as I’m sure more people would dine there if it were more prominent. The food was very good.
Relaxed and fed we wandered out into Mayfair to watch people being refused entry to clubs before going back to play Find the Chocolates and anything else we could think of. By the time we left the next morning, I felt like I belonged. I mentioned this to the hotel manager and he said, “Yes, we find many of our guests feel like that.
There are more glamorous and glossy hotels in the same five star price bracket. It is not the 'in' place to stay. But for a discerning clientele it is the only place to stay, a base in London that feels intimate and cosy without even trying. And that’s what makes it work. It’s small so that helps. However what also helps is the unseen patina left by repeat visitors: something that can’t be bought from an Italian designer or dreamed up by a PR. We immediately felt at home here. The rooms are not large but the quality is high. We were a little taken aback that there were no toiletries in the bathroom, however, the lack of a few small plastic bottles didn’t ruin our stay.
The martinis at Duke’s are legendary both for their perfection and the fact that they mix them at your table. Along with the classic gin and vodka varieties, there are more seasonal variations like the one I had with passionfruit. It slid down without touching the sides and, as with all good cocktails, I didn’t notice it creep up on me until later.
What about the Hedgie? Well he had hurriedly gone to the bar before me and seemed to have made friends with the next table. At first I thought they were being overly kind to him but then realised it was testimony to the friendliness of this bar. A good hotel bar has character; it has people who are there in the same spirit as you - to watch, to conspire, to engage and to enjoy the parade. Duke’s possesses this in spades. The staff who watch over it are charming, experienced and interact with the guests who love the theatre.
We had been invited to sample dinner so I suggested Hedgie to wave goodbye to his new friends and come along.
“I am very popular,” he said.
“You are indeed,” I replied.
“They liked my stories you know. I must be amusing.”
I ignored him.
I think it’s a little unfortunate that Duke’s restaurant is in the basement as I’m sure more people would dine there if it were more prominent. The food was very good.
Relaxed and fed we wandered out into Mayfair to watch people being refused entry to clubs before going back to play Find the Chocolates and anything else we could think of. By the time we left the next morning, I felt like I belonged. I mentioned this to the hotel manager and he said, “Yes, we find many of our guests feel like that.



Ms Robinson was once a copywriter who wrote award winning ads and had eight hour lunches. Weary of the sex, glamour and lavish parties, she switched to corporate communications where she held the hands of executives and banned them from writing this execrable sentence: "In this ever changing world, the only constant is change itself." These days she writes for an increasing variety of people and has ghostwritten several books but if she told you who for, she'd have to kill you. Click here to read her blog, 






