A girl alone in the Four Seasons Hotel Dublin feels like a million dollars (pink champagne, macaroons and peonies. Plus one of the world’s best facials).
Occasionally a night off, so to speak, is just what the proverbial doctor ordered. After days of meetings and rising stress, it was possible to clear 24 hours in the diary.
Four Seasons Hotel Dublin has just been bought by a company headed by two brothers, one of whom, Ian Livingstone, personally owns the equally-lovely Chewton Glen Hampshire, across the water in southern England. So I knew this ten-year old hotel would have oodles of style. My suite, 101, looks out over a well-tended garden to the famed, and much-used, Ballsbridge showgrounds.
My visit was calm and quiet. The sun shone in through my three, ten-foot high French windows leading to a four-foot deep terrace. Inside a foyer leads to a honey-colored parlor and on to a matching bedroom and through to the walk-in closet, where a lavender bag hangs from one of the satin-covered hangers (which thoughtfully has a pearl stud on each end to stop my frocks slipping off). The main bathroom, with Bvlgari toiletries, is marbled, as is the guest powder room. The kitchen has a sizable Nespresso machine. On the six-seat oval dining table stood a trio of pale-pink goodies. The four macaroons are topped with real gold leaf, the peonies make me want to dance, and the bottle of Rosé Champagne comes with two glasses, but I am on my own, so it’s all mine.
Before cracking it open, it is exercise time, down at the lowest floor. The ladies’ locker room is more super-girl stuff as some walls are covered in rich brocade fabric with embroidered butterfly shapes. First, it is a serious workout. The gym is big and airy and has my favorite Technogym equipment. There is a variety of sizes of medicine, or Pilates, balls. Next comes a swim, in the adjacent 45-foot pool, perfect temperature and doors in its glass-walled terrace are open, to the small garden outside. After this is a couple of minutes’ recovery in the really-hot vitality-station hot tub, and then to the relaxation room to get ready for the massage.
The spa now only uses Sodashi for its facials. Boy, what a fabulous product. Sodashi was conceived by Megan Larsen in Perth, Australia, ten years ago and it is understandably gaining quite a following. I loved therapist Sandra’s gentle massage, and every now and again she asked me to take a deep breath, to inhale some gorgeous natural smell.
Back upstairs, I uncorked the bottle, had a sip, enjoyed my Irish smoked salmon platter and slept like a log, despite Bon Jovi playing live in the showgrounds behind me. In the morning, I found another group, playing impromptu in Grafton Street, the retail center every gal in Dublin should visit. I can’t wait to return.