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FLORENCE HOTEL HELVETIA & BRISTOL
As so often when I go to Florence, I had suffered a difficult flight, with delay after delay. My taxi did not arrive in the via dei Pescioni until the early hours of the morning. I was exhausted and bad-tempered. It says a great deal for the Helvetia & Bristol that I did not collapse onto the floor of its entrance hall in a fit of rage. But this would not have been civilized behaviour, and everything about the Helvetia & Bristol encourages one to be civilized. As soon as I passed through its doors, I was surrounded by fine silks, good oil paintings, antique furniture and crystal chandeliers. These things have soothed me the past, and they soothed me now. Then there was the staff. Courtesy and efficiency are what I want from those who look after me – with, if possible, a little dash of friendliness. All three were evident in those I encountered here – whether it was waiter Marco at breakfast, waiter David at dinner or the lady and her gentlemen companions in frock coats (whose names, sadly, I did not record) at the Reception desk. From the moment I arrived until the moment I departed, his team were a credit to the General Manager, Stefano Venturi.
Clad in white marble with grey veins, the bathroom was also of a decent size. It accommodated a tub of adequate length, with a jacuzzi facility, one wash basin and a bidet. I particularly liked the arrangement of the bath tap, which allowed me to select the temperature of the water and then simply turn on the flow. So often such devices offer much and deliver little. This one was completely reliable, which added considerably to the pleasure of my ablutions. I find that the contemplation of Great Art requires me to bathe each day at some length both before breakfast and before dinner, so such convenient appliances in the bathroom are important.
The restaurant for dinner is called the Hostaria Bibendum. It is off the main entrance hall and has its own entrance from the street. Its two rooms are small and intimate and decorated in red, silver and gold, with crystal wall lights and framed silhouettes of musicians in 18th century costume. I sat at one of the small tables and appreciated the warmth of these surroundings.
80 wines are offered, all Italian except the champagne (Krug Grande Cuvée is 210ε). Prices range from 23ε for a 2003 primitivo to 220ε for 2000 Cristal champagne. The 2004 Barbaresco from Mr Gaja is 195ε. Of the ‘super-Tuscans’, 2002 Solaia is 180ε and 2002 Ornellaia is 165ε. Into the Schott glasses, David the waiter poured a full-bodied chardonnay (Antinori, Puglia Tormaresca, 2006 - 25ε) and a fine cabernet/sangiovese blend from Tuscany, with soft tannins, plenty of black fruit and some residual sweetness (I Balzini, 2002 - 32ε). I recommend that you put the Helvetia & Bristol on your itinerary. It is comfortable, stylish, well-run and it enjoys the best location in central Florence. For what more could one ask?
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ADDRESSES
HOTEL HELVETIA & BRISTOL
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© Francis Bown 2003
There are a number of very good hotels in and around Florence. But there is only one deluxe establishment which manages to be both in the very heart of the city and yet removed from its hustle and bustle. Doubtless, this is why Igor Stravinsky, Giorgio de Chirico, Pirandello and Bertrand Russell liked it so much. (Remarkable, is it not, that when composers, painters, playwrights and philosophers achieve a certain level of fame, they tend to patronise the very best hotels? It is comforting to those – like your correspondent – who stay in the same hostelries but who lack their talent.) Across the street from the wonderful Palazzo Strozzi and but a few steps from the Piazza della Repubblica, is a Renaissance-style building, erected in 1894. Here, then, is the hotel with the best location in Florence – the Helvetia & Bristol.
Of its 45 rooms, I stayed in number 153, on the first floor. This apartment suited me very well. Classed as a ‘Deluxe double’, it was 668ε a night, bed and breakfast for two. In its small hallway, behind the mirrored doors of the wardrobes, was a private safe, which I regard as a necessity nowadays. The bedroom had plenty of space for two easy chairs, two upright chairs and a handsome period chest of drawers in walnut. Its walls were covered with red-striped silk, upon which hung five 19th century cartoons. Lighting was provided by a crystal chandelier and three table lamps. The heavy cornice and a gilt-framed mirror added to the atmosphere of traditional comfort. Through the two French windows I could gaze over at the massive walls of the Palazzo Strozzi.
Breakfast (26ε) was had in the Winter Garden. Here, surrounded by potted palms and with a ceiling of coloured glass overhead, I arranged upon the white tablecloth of my corner table dishes of cornflakes, of fruit salad and of pineapple, and plates of bacon and of apricot tart. All these flavoursome comestibles were secured from the buffet. Marco, smart in his red shirt and black waistcoat, brought from the kitchen pots of coffee and my daily spremuta d’arancia (freshly-squeezed orange juice). He earned my undying gratitude by – at my request – changing the canned music each morning from ‘depressing popular’ to ‘stirring Classical’ (by Rachmaninov and Prokofiev).
From the menu of Enzo Pettè, a chef from Southern Italy, I had already selected my meal – foie gras with sweet onion marmalade and coffee, ravioli with panzanella and zucchini sauce, broiled beef fillet with a mustard and red wine sauce and, perhaps, a soufflé to finish. (These four courses would have been 109ε.) But I had forgotten that I was on a half-board arrangement. My dishes had therefore to be chosen from a more restricted menu. Still, I tucked in lustily to tasty bresaola with rocket and parmesan, tagliolini with tomato and basil (a trifle too al dente for my palate), really good beef fillet with chips and onions and, as a conclusion, sorbets of apple and strawberry. 
