Author: Paul Southgate
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Moxy Cologne Airport: The Airport Hotel That Forgot to Be Awful
Right, so here’s the thing: airport hotels should be crap. That is their function. They are not meant to be destinations, they are meant to be purgatory. They should exist in that peculiar hinterland of travel where you’ve left your home but not yet arrived anywhere, and so deserve a night in a building that…
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Rembrandt, Ruffs and Radioactive Bathrooms: A Business Stay at the Leonardo
Right, so I’ve just come back from a couple of days in Amsterdam, ostensibly on business, which, in my case, involves a laptop, an expense account, and the ability to identify a decent gin and tonic at twenty paces, and I was billeted at the Leonardo Hotel Amsterdam Rembrandtpark. From the outside it looks like…
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Aqua Brasserie: The Roast That Rules Bristol
Let’s get this out of the way straight off: Aqua in Bristol is excellent. Not “pretty good for a chain,” not “fine if you’re in the neighbourhood,” but properly, resoundingly excellent. The food, the service, the whole set up. Top notch. And yet, bafflingly, no one in Bristol seems to shout about it. Maybe it’s…
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Mangosteen, Bristol: Thai Tapas That Would Make the Spanish Spit Rioja
Right, so Mangosteen on Cotham Hill. A Thai tapas place. Which is not a thing. I mean, I’m not sure they have tapas in Thailand. I imagine the word would cause the Spanish to storm out into the streets, slapping their thighs in horror and waving jamón ibérico in protest. Because “tapas” are their thing.…
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Home Farm: Glamping for People Who’d Rather Be at The Ritz
Let’s be absolutely clear from the start: I don’t camp. Anyone who’s read my reviews on my website or stumbled across me elsewhere online will know this. Camping, to me, is about as appealing as elective root canal surgery performed in a field. Four-star hotels I can handle, five stars I actively adore, but sleeping…
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Starbucks at Bristol Airport: Lukewarm Glamour, Hot Coffee
It is 7.30 on a Monday morning and the Starbucks team are ready. Four of them, finely tuned, a slick caffeine machine primed for battle. Orders fly, cups stack, names are misheard with military precision. You cannot fault them. They are sharp, cheerful, and efficient in a way that feels almost suspicious in an airport.…
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Noah’s Bristol: Beurre Blanc and Bikers’ Bladders
This is a tale of two halves. Or more precisely, a tale of two halves glued together with monkfish mousse and chip-shop grease. On the one hand, Noah’s is very good indeed. The food is excellent, the service bang on, the view of Clifton’s Regency crescents is beautiful. On the other, you’re eating your hand-caught…
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Malmaison Manchester: From Boutique Chic to Beige Bath Mat
Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. There are two Malmaisons in Manchester and I can only pray this one is being quietly lined up for closure, because what I found here was a ghost of the hotel it once thought it was. Once, I imagine, it strutted about in funky wallpaper, lurid cushions, and furniture…
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Blacklock Manchester: Where Cavemen Go to Evolve
There’s something gloriously primeval about a big plate of meat. Stick a group of blokes in a room with dim lighting, throw down a hunk of animal, and watch them gnaw away with the sort of quiet reverence that makes you think maybe civilisation was a mistake. I’ve been called a caveman before — usually…
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Renaissance Shenzhen Bay: A Look into the Future
Shenzhen is the future. Not in the vague, Instagram-filtered sense that one throws around like confetti in European cities, but the proper, actual future. The sort where you step off a plane and feel that everything you thought was cutting-edge back home is suddenly quaint, pedestrian even. And at the heart of this futurism sits…
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The Travel Critic 