Eating in Manchester

The Lowry Hotel

There's something so wonderful about hospitality staff who can convince you that your every whim is why they get out of the bed in the morning. We really don't know how they stay so cheery, especially having served our time in kitchens and behind bars. Only when you're forced to thank a drunken homeless man for paying for his half pint of Carling in dirty coppers do you understand how dire it is serving people for a living. Somehow the lovely people of The Lowry are perky 25/7.

Despite being a new enough kid on the block for the architecture to still be acceptable (having opened in May 2001) one's first glimpse of The Lowry can be distinctly underwhelming. The river front side of the hotel is attractive enough, with its striking bridge and endless glass, but its backside is a fairly bleak curve of reflected industrial mess. Which, of course is what you'll get to gaze out over through your floor to ceiling windows if you miss out on a riverside room. But hey, beggars can't be choosers and if Manchester only got a bit of sun the whole lot would immediately look prettier.

Despite stumbling through their doors our usual bedraggled selves, the concierge and reception staff were charming and helpful, allowing us to check in early without any warning, organising late check out for us the next day (we like our sleep, ok?) and flippantly enquiring which Sunday paper we would prefer. We had to stop our friend from blurting out ”News of the World“.

A bed big enough for the entire Jolie-Pitt coterie greeted us upstairs, edged by huge windows, a huge desk, huge TV, huge bathroom, etc. Although a little bland, the décor is crisp, and in general we prefer plain and unremarkable to edgy and offensive. The Lowry does't go mad on the frills that often pop up in five star hotels – no little toothbrush sets or towels folded into the shape of a peacock. We did however appreciate the towel warmer – accessible without leaving the shower. Now that's luxury living.

The joyful end to our stay was having an utterly gluttonous breakfast delivered to our room for no extra charge (but at the cost of the poor room service staff who were frazzled, to say the least.) From freshly squeezed orange juice to belgian waffles and fresh berries via the good old Full English, that wheelie table brought us the foodstuffs that Sundays are made for. We were so busy eating that we even forgot about the paper.

www.thelowryhotel.com

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