We managed to squeeze our Porsche 911 GT2 RS in between another sports car and a huge black Rolls Royce outside the front door of the hotel. Seriously, the car pictured above was indeed parked like that. However, with a price tag of £211,000 for the basic model it represents more than we have spent on cars in our entire lifetime. It does 0-60mph in 2.8 secs whereas our first car, a Citroen Dyane named Hal after the computer in the film 2001, A Space Odyssey, could only reach that speed in a following wind. Truthfully, we arrived by black cab.

A couple of sheep

It took us through Mayfair to the Connaught and the streets were lined with  Ferraris and Lamborghinis so this car was not out of place in the slightest. Definitely the place to see swank, if silly, cars. Our favourite car of all time however remains Hal. Not sure you would get a couple of sheep and bale of straw in the back of that Porsche. At least not without knocking £100,000 off the value! Anyway, this is not a car blog!

As you are very well aware we leave no stone unturned in our sconological quests and once again, as we did at Knockinaam Lodge Hotel, we are going that extra mile … entirely on your behalf! The Connaught (like Claridge’s and the Ritz does not require to have “hotel” after its name … you’re just supposed to know) does luxury rather well.

Because we were a sinful few minutes early we were promptly escorted to  the Coburg bar and obliged to drink pink champagne and eat green olives with homemade potato crisps while  they prepared our table … nice! We had hardly begun when they announced that the table was ready but that we could take as long as we liked over our champagne. Nice again!

Dream Tea

When we did eventually sit down to our afternoon tea it was in the very comfortable Jean-Georges restaurant. It had a huge wrap round window so that we could sit and watch the mega-rich going past outside wondering which, if any of them, was not involved in money laundering. First thing we had to do was decide on tea … there was no coffee option! Pat opted for a green tea called Gyokuro, made by gently steaming the leaves in pure volcanic water and promising to taste of roasted Fuji apples and tender meringue.

I, having only a vague grasp on reality, opted for Dream Tea, an infusion of the finest chamomile, verbena, lemongrass and mint … wake me up somebody! We’ve seen the correct way to taste posh tea …. you suck it noisily through your teeth, swill it vigorously around your mouth before jettisoning it into a spittoon. But this did not seem like either the time or the place. Interestingly both teas looked and tasted amazingly like hot water … but refreshing nevertheless to our PG Tips palates.

Curd, or not?

We could go on endlessly about the biscuit dogs for dipping in chocolate. Or the Truffle egg mayonnaise sandwiches. Or the Rhubarb Compote with Fromage Blanc but you just want to know about the scones. Don’t you! Needless to say they were delicious. There was a fruit and a plain for each of us, beautifully glazed on top and nicely presented in a silver basket. They were accompanied by homemade strawberry jam, Cornish clotted cream and lemon curd … fab. The lemon curd, however, presented us with something of a quandry … cream with curd, or not?

We should know the answer but, since this is the first time we have been presented with the problem, we don’t. We went ‘with’ and it was nice enough but aesthetically a bit insipid looking. Thoughts on this dilemma would be most welcome. The fruit ones had delightfully succulent golden fruit rather than the usual black sultanas. All in all it was a pretty obvious topscone.

However, we don’t want readers running away with the idea that it was all plain sailing. We had had to switch champagnes for the afternoon tea. At one point,Pat even had to pour her own tea!! In the toilets there was someone to greet you. They turned on the taps for you and handed you a beautiful fluffy white hand towel. Too much! The thought of these poor sods standing in a toilet all day, albeit a marbled temple of a toilet, waiting to turn your taps on … arrgghh!

Pouring one’s own tea

They might even wipe bums for the Rees Moggs of this world but we’re not sure. At any rate the very nice gentleman who turned on my taps has probably been deported by now under Theresa May‘s fantastically disgraceful immigration regime. The Connaught must have hundreds of staff. We met quite a few of them and not one of them was British. Does this mean that we will all have to pour our own tea and wipe our own bums after Brexit? Sacré bleu! To top it all off the staff presented us with a beautiful little box with some extra scones and jams as we left … wonderful. Or maybe it was the Dream Tea kicking in?

W1K 2AL          tel: 020 7499 7070            The Connaught