|
Contact: info@bownsbest.com
Home - Austria - Benelux - France & Monaco - Germany - Italy - Russia - Spain - Sweden - Switzerland - Turkey - United Kingdom |
||
|
SAN FRANCISCO THE HUNTINGTON HOTEL
It was built in 1924 as an apartment building and was turned into an hotel in 1947. Its original purpose explains why its 136 rooms are known as some of the most spacious hotel rooms in the city. My own room, number 906 on the 9th floor, lived up to the reputation. (It is classified as a ‘Luxury Double’ and is therefore $550 a night, breakfast extra.) I calculated that it was about 22 feet square, which meant there was a lot of space for the sofa, two easy chairs, a writing table and a substantial cabinet (with the television and lots of electronic gizmos – for those who need them). The apartment’s tones of beige and brown emphasized its generous dimensions. It was air-conditioned, of course, and through its two windows were marvellous views of Grace Cathedral, the impressive Gothic pile which is just across the road from the hotel. Four table lamps provided pleasant lighting. The bedside cabinet was black and in the Chinese style. I liked this room. It gave me the feeling of having my own flat on Nob Hill.
I am, of course, very much a dinner person. But by one of those wretched coincidences which can sometimes dog my steps, the hotel kitchen was closed for renovation throughout my stay. I was therefore unable to have dinner in the Big 4 Restaurant on the ground floor (pictured). This was a pity, because I had heard good things of Chef Gloria Ciccarone-Nehls. Perhaps I will be able to try her cuisine next time.
From 8.00 in the morning until 4.00 in the afternoon the hotel offers a complimentary car to Union Square or to the Financial District. I took advantage of this facility and had the Lincoln Town Car take me to the Marcus Neiman department store on Union Square. I recommend that you do the same. I like to go to the Belle Époque splendours of its 4th floor restaurant for afternoon tea. So did I find any partings at The Huntington? Yes. Apart from my own, I counted one – which is probably one more than I would have seen at any other hotel in San Francisco. I think therefore that The Huntington is on my side in this battle to re-establish decency on top of men’s heads. Let us all determine to do what we can to restore the ‘part’. Perhaps we ‘parters’ can have our first convention at this bastion of tradition in San Francisco – The Huntington Hotel.
|
||
ADDRESSES THE HUNTINGTON HOTEL
|
|
|
© Francis Bown 2003
What, I ask myself, has become of the gentleman’s parting? I mean that arrangement of one’s hair which requires one to put in a bit of tonsorial effort before one meets the world. I was brought up to have as sharp a parting as I could manage, and I still do my best to achieve the standard I learnt as a child. But on most other male heads the thing has gone. I have heard no discussion of its disappearance. Yet it is certainly on the verge of extinction. Just look around you, if you doubt the veracity of this statement. But no-one has risen to its defence. As I drove into San Francisco (such is the strangeness of my mind’s meanderings when I am at the wheel), it occurred to me that I would have to take on the task myself. Francis Bown has never thought of himself as a conservationist, but he is not too old for a new career. In the States the parting is called the ‘part’, which gave me the strange experience of asking various friendly Californians, “Were do you think gentlemen’s parts have gone?” Still, if I were to find any in the city of St Francis, they would surely be at my destination – The Huntington Hotel.
Perched on top of Nob Hill, this red brick tower exudes that feeling of discreet luxury which Americans are kind enough to call ‘European’. The Huntington is proudly, unashamedly, defiantly traditional. As soon as I walked into the lobby, my eye fell upon the oil painting behind the Reception desk. It was of King Charles II. The Merry Monarch looked pleased to be there. And well he might be pleased, for he liked good manners and comfort, and there are plenty of both in this family-owned and family-run establishment.
Through folding doors was the dressing area, with fitted wardrobes (wherein was my private safe) and the door to the bathroom. After the abundance of space elsewhere, the severe modesty of the size of the tiled bathroom was a bit of a shock. Still, it did have good toiletries by L’Occitane. Had I wished to indulge myself in a bit of ablutionary pampering in more expansive surroundings, I could have paid a visit to the hotel’s Nob Hill Spa (pictured), which covers 11,000 square feet – but I am not really a spa person.
Still, I did get into the restaurant – named after the 4 most famous railway tycoons of the 19th century – for breakfast. The absence of the kitchen meant no hot food, but the hard-working staff did very well in the circumstances. I perched myself on the shiny green leather of one of the banquettes, while they brought to me good coffee. Then I secured from the buffet – on large white plates – ham, cheese, melon, pineapple, raspberries, strawberries and blueberries. I did not go hungry. 
When it is in full swing, the Big 4 would certainly be the place for a ‘power breakfast’. It has that dark, mahogany-laden atmosphere which is required for the completion of a big deal. Whether such was being done at the next table, I did not know, but I could not help but notice that it was occupied by a group which included one of our most famous comedy artists. (Discretion prevents me from revealing the identity of the Antipodean housewife and megastar.)