Author: Paul Southgate
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W Hong Kong: Reception on the Sixth Floor, Energy Through the Roof
Right, so here we are then, in Hong Kong, a city that is less a place and more a bloody organism. It doesn’t sleep, it doesn’t yawn, it doesn’t even pause to scratch itself. It just goes. Ceaselessly. A thrum, a vibration, a caffeinated whirring of humanity that makes New York look like it’s having…
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The Kensington, Cotham – A Local Worth Falling For (Even If It Let Me Down a Bit)
I love this place. There, I said it. I love this place. The Kensington in Cotham is the sort of pub you rarely find outside London these days — and even in London they’re being squeezed out faster than a pint in Soho on a Friday. It’s the holy grail of neighbourhood spots: a proper…
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Côte Brasserie, Quakers Friars, Bristol – A Hug in Slipper Form
Sometimes — and I know this will offend the ‘small-plates-served-on-slates’ brigade — you just want to go somewhere nice, sit down, and have a good meal without the faff. No QR code menus, no foam, no bloke in a beard explaining the origin story of your butter. Just food. Hot. On a plate. With cutlery.…
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Vivat Bacchus, Farringdon – A Lunch Upgrade Worth Logging Back Into Teams For
There’s nothing quite like an impromptu business lunch to lift the spirits and recalibrate your day. One minute you’re weighing up whether to endure another Super Green Falafel from Pret or gamble on that egg mayo baguette that’s been sweating quietly in the chiller since 8 a.m., and the next—you’re in a real restaurant. With…
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Hotel 1898, Barcelona — A Boringly Brilliant Stay
You know when you book a hotel and you’re not entirely sure what you’re getting? That’s how I felt with Hotel 1898 in Barcelona. I’d clicked around their website for a bit, expecting… well, I don’t know what. Something faintly forgettable, perhaps. A boutique business stopover with slightly too much beige? A faded Spanish colonial…
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Sushi Saki, Barcelona – iPad Sushi and the Death of the Buffet
There was a time, not so very long ago, when the words buffet and Japanese together in a sentence meant only one thing: a heroic bout of salmonella, followed by 48 hours writhing in a Barcelona Airbnb praying to the porcelain gods and whispering promises to never, ever, eat again. You remember the scene: a…
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GoCar Barcelona: The Best Bloody Sightseeing Tour I’ve Ever Done
I’ve done sightseeing, mate. I’ve done sightseeing. I’ve tramped through the rain-slicked alleyways of Edinburgh on an open-top bus in December – a tour made infinitely worse by a so-called mate who thought it hilarious to lob my headphones off the top deck somewhere near Leith. So I sat, soaked to the sternum, freezing my…
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CiaoCiao, Barcelona – A Midnight Slice of Sanity
The great thing about arriving late into Spain — the only great thing about arriving late into Spain — is that the Spanish eat late. I have no idea why. I’ve asked them, often and earnestly, and they simply can’t tell me. They shrug, they gesture, they smoke, they look at me like I’ve asked…
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Ridgeview Wine Estate: Sticking it to the French, One Bubbly at a Time
There’s nothing quite as satisfying as sticking one up the French. They are, objectively, better than us at a great many things — fashion, cooking, shrugging with devastating sarcasm, and grinding a nation’s aviation industry to a halt over a pension reform. But for the last two centuries, they’ve also cornered the market in sparkling…
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Ockenden Manor – A Glorious Collision of Tudor Timbers and Spa-Luxe Serenity
Sometimes in life the stars align. Not often. Usually, they scatter chaotically in the night sky, like crumbs on a Travelodge carpet, marking the celestial randomness of broken kettles and joyless buffet sausages. But every so often, bang — alignment. Precision. Harmony. A moment of such elegant serendipity that you half expect Richard Curtis to…
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The Travel Critic 