The history of Ritz dates back to as early as the 1900s. The grade II listed building is a symbol of the British aristocratic society, which obviously goes hand in hand with luxury, wealth and class. Combine all those elements together, and what do you get? Hmm a 5 star hotel in the heart of London. Despite its extremely busy location the noise pollution cuts out once indoors.
As you walk into the gigantic ceilinged lobby, there’s no shortage of having any attention deficit disorder. You are truly mesmerized by the attention to detail in every corner possible.
We brought tickets to see a West End musical, Miss Saigon and the offer included a dinner at The Ritz. Couldn’t resist the urge, but to go ahead and book the tickets. Both of us where dressed for the occasion, smart, but we could both breath. Not sure why, but we assumed the restaurant would be fully booked, only to see a handful of diners scattered around the hall.
We quietly sat and looked at our menu, whilst the waiter served us some water complemented with assortment of bread and butter. I was able to hear the sound of my heartbeat. No, before you ask, I don’t have a mechanical valve replacement, the atmosphere was that, dead quite. Each time someone lifted their cutlery you could guess, which direction it was coming from. So we spoken in small letters and whispered till the end of the evening.
My eyes couldn’t help, but notice the two young boys, aged no more than 12 sitting around the dinner table with their grandparents. Both these boys, looked like they were “Eaton” material. I guess it was these young boys, who would be sitting here with their grandchildren many years from now. For some reason, it reminds me of establishment where families from one generation to the next take over. Anyhow, moving on.
For the appetizers we opted for the cold puree pea soup with lobster. It was true to its every statement. Was certainly cold, topped with a 10pence size lobster. Hard not to notice the size, but I had to get this off my chest. Pheww, now rant over, I can continue. Oh, hang on I realized I’m not done yet. My husband took his jacket off and was asked to put it back on, as it was the dress code. Did I mention how quite it was?
The amount of awkwardness in this place was unreal to describe. First of all there was the “funeral silence”, despite other guests seated afar, you could literally count each and everyone’s breath. Secondly, lack of any AC, so stuffy during the hottest summer in the UK, yet they demanded my husband keep his dinner jacket on – if that’s the case perhaps getting your room climatised might help.
The Ritz, is no doubt a place of statue for some with a long standing family history, with somewhat a pretentious feel. That’s said old money will turn into new money and new money will slowly drift away …