Becca Marriner

Instead of a palace, picture a hotel room with a walk in wardrobe and balcony. In place of a carriage, a seat in first class on the train to King’s Cross. But I did have a ballgown, a beautiful dress from Sister Jane that I’d finally tracked down on Vinted. It was over too soon. Turns out I didn’t have seasonal depression; I just don’t have heated floors in my Edinburgh flat. Do you think my landlord would be willing to install them?

My fairy godmother comes in the form of a bestie. My friend, Sophie, is not only a fantastic confidante but also an exceptional pastry chef at one of the top hotels in the world. So through her wonderful connections (and a hefty discount) we stayed at Claridge’s for my birthday celebration; the perfect treat as I turned a quarter of a century old. Let me tell you, the hotel stay was so good, it had me researching ‘get rich quick’ schemes as soon as I got home.

Tucked away in Mayfair behind Bond Street is a glorious red brick building. I had traveled down from Edinburgh in the morning, arriving at the hotel with Sophie just after 2pm. Before we’d even set foot inside, we were greeted by doormen (obviously wearing top hats) asking for the name on our reservation. They whisked away our luggage and directed us on where to check in. Given how much I had overpacked, not having to carry my suitcase to the room was a luxury. The lady at reception was kind and instead of handing over a key and sending us on our way, she escorted us to the room and gave us the grand tour.

This was a hotel room like I’d never seen before – for starters, it had a hallway. On the right hand side was the wardrobe, complete with full length mirror, padded hangers and a Dyson hairdryer. To the left, was the bedroom and lounge area. We’re talking king-sized bed, dressing table, massive television, a gorgeous curved sofa and marble coffee table. Then to the bathroom, double vanity with back-lit mirrors, rainforest shower, enormous bathtub and a Japanese toilet. Even the mini fridge was bursting with cold press juices, champagne and my personal favourite, crisp diet cokes.

I wouldn’t be a barista if I didn’t mention the in-room coffee machine. A little SMEG pod machine, pouring espresso for me first thing in the morning. I mixed in a little brown sugar cube (branded obviously) to start the day.

The room was so overwhelming at first. I was gaping at the splendour, staring off the balcony wondering if it was all a dream. I went to film a room tour for my family group chat and barely ten seconds into filming, there’s a knock at the door. Who’s that?

It’s the concierge with our luggage. I had already forgotten about it whilst being in awe of everything else. He kindly opened the luggage stands, propped our cases up and showed himself out. Less than 5 minutes later, there’s a knock at the door again. I know I haven’t forgotten anymore suitcases, so who could it be? Ah yes, complimentary champagne. Duh. I’ve never experienced a butler before so was not expecting them to bring up the whole bottle just to pour two glasses and leave again. He wouldn’t even let me get the door for him? But there we were, glasses of fizz in hand and a birthday spread of dark chocolate mousse cake, fresh fruits and salty nuts laid out before us, starting the best hotel stay of my life.

I admit, I rarely unpack on holidays; especially when I’m only away for a few nights. I would opt to live out of my suitcase and rummage around for my hairbrush or a clean pair of socks. However, with a wardrobe as lovely as the one in our room, I made an exception. My pink leather jacket, green tulle skirt and embroidered denim dress looked at home in the glamorous wardrobe, no doubt appreciating not being in a crumpled heap for the next 72 hours.

As a home base for our trip to the Big Smoke, it was fantastic. We popped in and out of our room for coffee, pastries and jewellery shopping. Dim sum in Chinatown followed by cocktails in the Painter’s Room. You’ll find this decadent bar in Claridge’s by taking a right turn after reception, just past the rocking horse (technically, the rocking zebra).

I’m not exactly a stranger to turn down services. I know from staying at Premier Inns to leave my towels on the floor if I would like them changed but an evening turn down? That was brand new to me. After we came back from dinner on our first night, we found the bed made, curtains drawn and fresh water bottles at our bedside tables. It was mortifying knowing that someone had been in the room when I had left everything askew. Not only that, but the clothes that I had dumped earlier were folded neatly on the sofa, my bra on top. Every time we stepped a foot outside after that, I tidied up before we left. Trying to show as little evidence as possible that the bed had actually been slept in.

As a guest of the hotel, you can enjoy complimentary access to the pool, steam room and saunas. They were a welcome retreat after a busy day mooching about boutiques and coffee shops. It’s a bit of a serene haven in the basement where additional towels, robes and flip flops were provided, rendering the dressing gown and slippers we brought down from our room as useless. Setting up camp in one of the poolside cabanas, we dipped into the heated water and relaxed. Thankfully for me, it was no deeper that 1.2m at any point so I didn’t have to doggy paddle to desperately stay afloat and could instead enjoy half and hour of leisurely swimming. The real luxury was that nobody else was using the pool.

For a final treat on our last night, we donned our finest clothes and made our way downstairs to the Claridge’s Restaurant. It’s so nice to wear a pretty outfit and walk downstairs to the reservation rather than go off-site and ruin the look with an ugly winter coat. For a pre-dinner drink we sat at the bar for a cocktail – Cosmopolitan for me and a Passion fruit Shandy for Sophie. The cocktails followed a comical interlude of challenge 25 where I had to nip back to the hotel room for our IDs. As we were staying in the hotel as a celebration of my 25th birthday, I was flattered. We then moved to our table and the five courses began.

It started with truffle crumpets and and a Parker house roll. The latter may just be one of the best things I’ve ever eaten. I had mackerel for a starter followed by a fish cake for the main course – I’m Aberdonian, I like fish. Then four (yes, four) puddings to share, cheese board included. It really pays to befriend a pastry chef when there’s a mountain of profiteroles in front of you. And then when I couldn’t possibly eat another morsel, I found a smidgen of space for some peanut and chocolate petit fours. The food was accompanied by more cocktails, a Tuscan special this time, and champagne until I was literally bursting at the seams (of my dress). And in my full and slightly intoxicated state, I got a tour of the kitchen and met some of the chefs. As a humble home cook, I was way out of my leagues meeting people of such extraordinary talent. In wobbly moments like this, I was glad of the short walk back to the hotel room.

For the final evening turndown, the housekeeping team had left clear, airplane toiletry bags out for us on the vanity. I took the train back to Edinburgh so it wasn’t entirely necessary but it was helpful for taking the remaining nuts with me for a snack. Was I tempted to pop one of the robes in my case too? Absolutely. They were so cosy and comfortable that it made them difficult to leave behind. That being said, I did pinch the little turquoise matchbox for a keep sake. If this blog post was in a physical diary instead of online, you know there would be a matchstick taped next to this paragraph.

It’s so difficult saying goodbye to a long-distance friend. Who knows when you’ll see each other again? Or where? Checking out the next day was hard, and not just because I was hungover. There are some things that even the grandeur of Claridge’s can’t make any easier. Sophie and I went from seeing each other everyday at work to every six months in different cities. I wrote in my reflection of 2024 about my friends leaving Edinburgh and how I was happy for them but sad for me. This was one of those bittersweet moments. Because it does make the time you spend together even more fun, no matter how intermittent they are.

I had used the letter paper and envelopes from our room to write quick notes of love (and bragging) to my family and boyfriend. And as I was handing over my room key, the receptionists franked them (does anyone know what this means?) and sent them on their way. From the attention to detail in the rooms, the hospitality of staff or the insane food & beverage scene, it was truly a wee holiday that I’ll never forget. This blog post will make sure of that. And whilst Claridge’s is somewhere I’ll likely never stay again; you know I’ll be working hard and saving up to buy the mirror that was above our dressing table. I stare at it on the website daily.