It kinda hurts from down here, looking up there. The Shard is a long way up. It’s a breathtaking, ear popping piece of architecture. Perfect rows of conical conifers and a red carpet lead to revolving doors and heavy security with airport style scanners. Fortunately my GHDs pass the non-weapon category, though any woman who has burnt her ears will tell you this is a potential weapon of mass destruction.
Up to reception at floor 35. That’s where it all begins. The Shangri-La has 18 floors of view wow power. A greeting squad is all smiles, beautiful red long Chinese dresses, welcome drinks and smooth as Nespresso check-in. I really don’t need someone to help me with my spinner suitcase, a Chihuahua could pull it on these glossy floors but I succumb!
I have been upgraded – nine times! My brain is racing to go through the categories, superior, deluxe, premier, iconic. I can let you into a secret about hotel suites. There is a proportional correlation to the size of doorway to sizzle factor. I look at all the other doors and then the oversized portcullis to ‘The Westminster Suite’. Doors open and I shimmy down the catwalk into a stunning space. Like a designer with its muse, everything has been adjusted, curled, stitched, coloured, angled and padded to make the very best of its most undeniable asset – the London skyline and it’s my living wallpaper for the next 48hrs.
Bucket lists often include a room with a view. This is a view with a suite attached. The entire length of the suite from sky blue ripple carpets to ceiling, is glass. Aqua, gold, sandy tones, creams, reflecting the colours of the Thames and city. Art imitating life. Gob smacking, intoxicating, the kind of ‘sorry I can’t come to dinner because I am in love with the view’ kind of amazing. I timed walking from one end to another – that’s 16 seconds. That’s a long time when you decide to change your heels.
This must be the best business desk in the world. Bring it on! Any reason to plonk myself at the desk. I am looking down the Thames at the Tower of London, Tower Bridge, HMS Belfast, Shakespeare Globe, and Southbank. Directly opposite my room is the condom shaped Gherkin. As the river curves to the west, I can see the St Paul’s Cathedral, and the London Eye as the boats go up and down. London Bridge station heaves with life as the horizons across England softly fade in the distance. Small planes share the sky with your eye line as they diagonally head to City airport.
I am the Fresh Princess of the Shard. Round table for six to my left, telescope, chandelier on my right. Touch lighting covers every mood ‘day/dining/evening along with adjustments for control freaks. You could be hours doing this alone. The sofa is for four but one post on Instagram and five friends instantly reappear in your life then want to move in. You could fit a WAG club afternoon tea in here.
I am a sucker for a great bathroom. There is a TV integrated into the mirror and Toto the magic toilet could replace your partner with the number of personal services it performs. Steps lead up to the bath, which surprisingly isn’t ridiculously big and there is enough Acqua Di Parma to ensure that my skin will be looking lovely when I am 300 years old. As to the bedroom… the king-size bed says it all. Flip the switch and block out blinds (which actually block out) a rarity in my experience, turn day into night. Swoon.
All things considered it’s a minor miracle I make it out. On the second night my mum has arrived to join me so we must to explore! We head to floor 52. Putting a swimming pool and one of the world’s highest bars on the same floor should surely lead to mischief and it’s a somewhat peculiar contrast…sneaking past city slickers with their cocktails, us in our fluffy slippers. It’s the highest pool in Europe and it’s a stunner.
A bit of exercise completed and we are due for an evening of a difference kind of indulgence – dining at Ting! Like everything at The Shard the views stop the show as we are seated by the window, champagne is poured. Starters of Dorset crab concealed underneath a sough dough wafer dissolves as a Bormano olive oil sorbet is poured. Ravioli sobrassada is the perfect surf n turf paired with sweet Highland langoustine. Mum wins the dish of the night with a stunning dish of Red Mullet circled with a confetti of fregola and sweet peppers whilst a sphere of yoghurt meringue is deftly demolished as we fight for the last of the English strawberries and lemon Verbena cream.
We retire to Gong Bar on the 52nd floor for a final drink. Its Asian inspired design creates a relaxing and intimate environment (quite a contrast to the boisterous Aqua Bar next door) It’s the perfect place to say our goodbyes to London and each other before I head back to Sydney.
Staying at the Shard isn’t just a night in a hotel. It’s a remarkable experience and one that many celebrating a special moment chose, but then I probably didn’t need 48hrs to know that. It had me at ‘Hello’.
Have a sneak peek of the Westminster Suite:
Our travel writer Karen Lawson was a guest at the Shangri-La At The Shard in London. For more information about Westminster Suite, click here.
