Popular Posts

Showing posts with label Prince Charles. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Prince Charles. Show all posts

Wednesday, 18 February 2015

Sky Pod, The City


Towering egotist Boris Johnson's architectural legacy will be a London skyline raped willy nilly by the filthy erections of willy-waving  'starchitects.' Could-be-anywhere skyscrapers thrown up by spivvy developers and financed by tin-pot despots from the Gulf to Guangzhou, these shameless shrines to Mammon are a depressingly familiar sight today. I don't dig Victorian pastiche. I'm no fan of mock-Georgian. I am not Prince Charles. Modern buildings per se are not my enemy: hello Hadid, Zaha; F off Farrell, Terry and take your tawdry towers with you! "But, hey! The little people will love any sub-Dubai crap outcrop as long as it comes with a cute nickname" reason the urban planners that have the ear of the mop-top Eton Mess in charge at City Hall. Today, I've scaled the 37-storey 'Walkie Talkie' (more of a 'molar implant' to my mind), a grim grey Goliath whose daft design meant the summer sun, reflected in and magnified by its concave curves, melted Mondeos parked outside. Nor is Oliver Wainwright, The Guardian's architecture critic, smitten: 'As a literal diagram of developers' greed, it provides painful proof that form follows not function but finance..poking its unwelcome bulk into the skyline from almost every possible vista." Like Kim Kardashian, only in concrete and glass, then? On the plus side, I suppose, the building's upper levels host a leafy new London belvedere; an indoor sky garden consisting of two vast banked swathes of sub-tropical foliage. Serving it, is an island cafe-bar run - like restaurants Darwin and Fenchurch on levels 36 and 37 above (both of which are blessed with more intimate bars, nota bene) - by caterers Rhubarb. In addition to those armed with bar or restaurant reservations, the aerial arboretum is open daily to the public; cue queues at the lobby level airport-style check-in. Order an £11.50 cocktail - Thyme For Tea, Chelsea Garden; or Autumn Breeze (vodka, pinot noir, falernum, beetroot and apple juices) - and the sort of snacks you'd expect of posh wedding canapĂ© slingers such as Rhubarb as you watch the tourists coo over the "Oooh, aaah, Barb-a-ra!" wraparound views . Open until 2am, Sky Pod is undeniably cool ... as in, climate- controlled to the point where wooly blankets and hot water bottles are provided gratis. Cool in the other sense? Only if you're a fan Center Parcs and crass glass carbuncles.
20 Fenchurch Street EC3M 3BY http://skygarden.london/sky-pod-bar

Saturday, 6 March 2010

Attic, Docklands





London’s highest bar (beating the City’s Vertigo 42 by a whole six floors) is in a residential tower that is a stone's throw from Canary Wharf.  Run by the Greenwich based Inc group and nominally reserved for the building's residents, Austin Powers wannabe swankers who fancy a swingin' private penthouse pad can access it by pre-booking. The bar accepts parties of up to four from Thursday to Saturday evening inclusive. The effort is rewarded with the sort of  jet marble, chrome and leathery luxe lounge that would have wowed me circa 1992. Did I mention the panoramic views?  Sadly, that ain't Manhattan twinkling below. it's Docklands. Home to thousands of slick suits - and none of them with much taste if they're prepared to live in hellish glass and steel monstrosities that look like rejects from dismal Dubai - the architecture outside is more Haribo pick'n'mix  than Candy brothers.  How come old Charlie Jug Ears Windsor never piped up about this particular carbuncle? Let's see? Because it isn't in K&C and one's Roller is rarely called upon to venture beyond the Limehouse Link?  Obviously you’ll drink champagne (from £45) and cocktails such as Rusty Nail and Penthouse, what else? (a Russian Standard and raspberry mule - £8.50). Beers (Bud, Old Speckled Hen) - not exactly Gordon Gekko - cost around a fiver, wines from £17.50. It’s swish in a kinda Donald Trump way -blingy, glitzy, spendy, well-upholstered - but would you want to be on top of it? Oh and step outside onto its small balcony and your wig'll blow off. Wouldn't worry the Donald, obviously.  

48th Floor, 3 Pan Peninsula Sq. E14 8858 2437