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GENEVA HOTEL D’ANGLETERRE
My room on the 2nd floor (number 229 – 690-790 Swiss francs a night for two, according to season, breakfast extra) was a model of traditional comfort. A door of solid mahogany led from the corridor into a small hallway, with fitted wardrobes. Within the wardrobes I found three of those signs which indicate that care is being taken over details: a safe, an umbrella and a shoehorn. In the bedroom silk of dull gold covered the walls and set off the sumptuous hangings by the windows and over the beds. Heavy tassels and fringes, a dado rail, a dentilled cornice, mahogany furniture in the Classical style – all imparted that delicious sense of being pampered. And there was a trio of mirrors. (Have you noticed how often hotel bedrooms are irritatingly mirror-less?) There was also plenty of space for a sofa, an easy chair and a writing desk of decent size.
The Windows Restaurant is appropriately named, for it occupies a room in the manner of a conservatory at the front of the hotel, on the ground floor. Sitting on a banquette of striped velvet, I was able to look out across the lake to the buildings on the far bank. Around this room of green and gold wafted an eclectic selection of canned music, from the bouncy beat of Abba to the disciplined melodies of Vivaldi. In front of me was a tablecloth of beige, upon which stood long-stemmed glasses by Nachtmann and by Villeroy & Boch. Overhead two rather pretty fans stirred the air. Waiters in white aprons – including Mark, from Yorkshire – whizzed this way and that, taking care to replace the napkin of any guest who left the table for a moment. Overseeing this busy but orderly scene was the courteous and efficient maitre d’, Régis Rousselin.
I returned to the dining room in the mornings. I recommend that you do the same. There is an adjacent breakfast room, but I found the quiet restaurant much more comfortable – and I was very well looked after by Gregory, a gentleman from Toulouse. He brought to my table pots of coffee and tasty bacon with mushrooms, and I secured from the buffet fruit salad and slices of crusty bread. All very satisfactory. As was tea. I am a fan of a proper afternoon tea, and the Hotel d’Angleterre provides exactly that. Scones with Gruyère cream, dainty sandwiches, dishes of baked fruit, a tiny crème brûlée, cakes and pastries (the best of which was a miniature tarte tatin) – they were all there. And, to wash them down, not only proper leaves of Earl Grey tea (poured through a silver strainer), but also a glass of 1998 Dom Pérignon. (55 frs for this champagne tea.) During the course of this happy little feast, I glanced through the window – and what did I see? Trundling past was an immaculate Rolls-Royce Silver Dawn from the early 1950s. This was a moment truly civilized. And those are perhaps the best words to describe my hostelry. Truly civilized. I did not buy a new chronometer in Geneva, although I did seek out the Patek Philippe Museum on the rue des Vieux-Grenadiers and gaze in awe at some of the most beautiful timepieces ever made. But I did lodge and eat at an establishment as refined and as exclusive as one of those Patek Philippe watches – the Hotel d’Angleterre.
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© Francis Bown 2003
If you are looking for a watch, you go to Geneva. And if you are looking for an exclusive place to stay in Geneva, you go to the Hotel d’Angleterre. With just 45 rooms and a fine lakeside location, this is the hostelry of choice for those visitors to the Watch Capital of the World who like their luxury to be intimate rather than grandiose. On this occasion, they included me. I was happy to be following in the footsteps of a Russian leader, Tarzan and the Chief Scout. I expect Michaïl Gorbachov, Johnny Weissmuller and Lord Baden Powell all enjoyed their time at the d’Angleterre. I certainly did.
Built in 1872 by a Swiss architect named Anthony Krafft, the d’Angleterre is a handsome pile. Arriving by car from the airport (I had taken a taxi, but you might care to arrange for the hotel’s Bentley Mulsanne to meet you), I was struck immediately by the eagerness of the staff. Such enthusiasm I count a tribute to the General Manager, Jacques Faure. Seldom during my stay was I obliged to open a door for myself: there always seemed to be a smiling member of staff to assist my passage. And I was equally impressed by the air of quiet opulence throughout the establishment.
Decorated with a mixture of wallpaper and tiles, the bathroom was also spacious. It offered within its beige tones 2 wash basins, a tub of proper size, Penhaligon toiletries, lots of fluffy white towels and a pair of scales. I never know whether I am pleased or disconcerted by the last item. Scales possess, in equal measure, the power to reassure and to frighten me. But I am always gratified when the shaving mirror is properly placed, as it was here. This was a comfortable and well-equipped chamber for my pre-prandial ablutions. I shaved and soaked with some pleasure before going downstairs for dinner.
Set meals run from 3 courses at 55 francs to 8 courses at 155 francs. I chose four courses from the carte, for 161 francs. Chef Philippe Audonnet comes from Bordeaux and is a talented cook. I was much impressed by the first item to come from his kitchen: an amuse-gueule which consisted of a freshly boiled quail’s egg in cauliflower cream. This was well conceived and well executed, just like the first course proper. Three perfectly pan-fried scallops stood to attention on the left of a square white plate. Facing them were three slices of potato, tinged purple with beetroot. Between the two were dabs of beetroot ‘coulis’. Textures and tastes were all absolutely spot on. This sweet and ravishing confection was certainly the highlight of the meal. Then came roasted lobster on a potato galette with a matelote sauce, chateaubriand with (instead of the usual béarmaise sauce) a gentle and flattering shallot sabayon and, to conclude, a small but tasty passion fruit soufflé.
Another Frenchman is in charge of the cellar. Sommelier Damien Berthelon was born in Burgundy, but his list is strongest in clarets. Here are a few to whet your appetite: 1970 Lafite (1,240 frs), 1978 Latour (1,890 frs), 1982 Léoville Las Cases (1,690 frs), 1985 Mouton Rothschild (1,600 frs) and 1999 Cos d’Estournel (180 frs). About three dozen Swiss wines appear (priced from 42 to 130 frs), as well as a few of the usual suspects from the New World, like 1999 Penfolds Grange (950 frs). Monsieur Bertheon decanted both my bottles: a white burgundy with hints of citrus fruit and some nuttiness (Mâcon-milly-Lamartine, Les héritiers du Comte Lafon, 2002 – 80 frs) and a blend of merlot and cabernet from the Ticino area of Switzerland, tannic, youthful, oozing with ripe black fruit and bursting with the aromas of damp oak (Sottobosco, Tenimento dell’Or, 2002 – 92 frs).