The closest I’ve come to staying at a five-star hotel in Piccadilly is waiting out the front for an hour for a night bus home from Westbourne Park. Therefore, I jumped at the chance to hang out for the day at Le Meridien Piccadilly Health Club & Spa, as part of a promotion on Travelzoo.com. The thoroughly pimped-out pool, squash courts and gym are free for hotel guests and club members, and ordinarily the spa’s beauty treatments hover around £60 a pop for facials, massages and mani-pedis. The promotion I trialed included full use of the health club facilities, an hour-long facial, and a cocktail in the hotel bar, all for £50. I really can’t imagine seeking out these services unless I was already holed up in the hotel and someone else was paying the tab, but there are worse ways to spend a day recovering from a large weekend.
Let’s cut to the chase: hospitality operators wouldn’t need to flog their wares on Travelzoo if they were offering a slick, in-demand service. When I arrived on the Monday morning, the white robe I was given at reception was missing a waist tie, there was no orientation tour on arrival, the spa’s treatment room was a rabbit warren away from the change rooms in the bowels of the hotel, and there was no wi-fi. It would have been nice if the spa’s relaxation room wasn’t dimmed into semi darkness, which made it impossible to do anything other than stare at the pretty impressive fish tank.
Now, in terms of facials, the only one I’ve ever had was part of bridesmaid duties for a friend who’s been divorced for five years. When my lady pulled out the fluorescent strip lamp to highlight god knows what kind of crustifarian phenomena lurking in my crows feet and jowls, I felt a wave of anxiety usually reserved for pap smears and dental check ups. But over the next hour, my visage was treated to an offertory procession of scrubs, creams, potions and lotions… I lost count of the number of courses after the eye pads were applied (slathered in burnt-caramel-scented cream – yum!), and the face massage made me melt into the treatment table. The whole-body nirvana was comparable to the final savasana after a 90-minute Bikram yoga work out… actually, to be honest, it was like finally crawling into bed after being stowed in the luggage hold on a long-haul flight from a third-world country. The only technical info I can offer is that all the products they use come from the Gerard’s skincare range – an Italian company used exclusively in the spa on Richard Branson’s Necker Island luxury resort.
When I begrudgingly left the calm oasis of the treatment room (prompted by the “I’m just out here waiting to take you back to reception”, natch), my face had the glossy sheen of an embalmed corpse that’d been shocked back to life. In a good way. 24 hours later, it was impressive enough for my housemate to remark on. A week on, it’s still pretty luminous. I think I’m a convert.
The pool was absolutely epic – luxuriously tiled, wider than it was long, and of the same ilk as Daddy Warbucks’ and Jay Gatsby’s aquatic facilities. The hot tub and sauna had all the bells and whistles, as did the two gym rooms and squash courts.
It’s unfair to judge Longitude 0°8’, Le Meridien’s cocktail bar, off a single visit on a Monday afternoon – after all, who the hell hangs out in a hotel cocktail bar on a Monday afternoon other than jet-lagged agoraphobic hotel guests? Noone, evidently. The ‘First class’ Bloody Mary (mixed with your choice of Chase or Chiroc vodka) is £16.50 – ouch – but is served with a trio of tasty bar snacks which I suspect would be replenished on demand. It does not, however, pose any threat to Bar Off Broadway’s rep as London’s best bloody mary mixers (where a measly £9 will get you the best breakfast cocktail known to man – complete with OTT garnish – AND a soy latte).
So, all in all, a pleasing day out that my face won’t forget any time soon. Sans voucher though, you’d get more bang for your buck (and lashings of TLC) at Spa London York Hall in Bethnal Green, where you can hit Bistroteque afterwards for a dinner and show.