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Would we like to have lunch? Two people I know through Monocle, and who have become friends, were in London for a few days before heading on to Milan for the shows. Hanna and Mark live in California but come to London often. They have good taste, know what they like (and don’t like) and have developed routines in the city that make them happy. They have their hotel, their favourite restaurants – and their favourite table in each of those establishments. Their loyalty to these places is rewarded with waiters, maître d’s and hotel managers who know their names and are always delighted to see them.
So this past Saturday, the other half and I got scrubbed up, popped on our jackets, jumped on some electric Santander Cycles and headed over to Knightsbridge. After several days of cold weather and doomy skies, the sun had returned for a late-summer encore and its mellowed light was making London look, well, pretty, as we whizzed through it.
Often when friends message that they will be in London for a few days and suggest a lunch or dinner, I leap at the chance, only to suffer a bout of reservation panic when they add, “Do you mind booking?” Will they want something new, fun, low-key or fancy? Will they fret if they have to head to some distant postcode? Finally, you start phoning around the hot recent openings that colleagues insist will be the perfect rendezvous location. It usually transpires that there are no tables to be had or you’ll need to bring your friends for dinner at 17.00, a time when only people in care homes should be fed. In London, trying something new can be exhausting.
But on this day we were about to be shown the city afresh by people who don’t even live here. Their favourite spot for lunch is quiet, old-school and charming, and as soon as we entered the dining room we spotted them at a discreet table by the window, a bottle of champagne already snuggled in an ice bucket. They didn’t need to look at the menu when it came to ordering food but were able to guide us around its plentiful pages. Afterwards we walked through Knightsbridge towards Hyde Park, before splitting off to find another set of hire bikes. A restaurant I have never dined in and a part of town I rarely linger in, with visitors who made us look at London anew – a Saturday to savour.
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That the sunshine stuck around all week was one of the reasons why the event that we co-hosted at the Natural History Museum, in partnership with the Holcim Foundation, was such a hit. The museum, designed by the architect Alfred Waterhouse, opened in 1881 and while it has often attempted to make use of the gardens and grounds that sweep around the building, it has always been a little timid in doing so. No longer. In recent years the museum has built the Urban Nature Project – winner of a 2023 Holcim Foundation award. The project features two hectares of land that are now given over to telling the story of Earth, its geology, its plants and how our planet is changing over time.
I got to moderate a panel about the project but, before all of that, our guests were guided around part of the scheme by the architect Edmund Fowles of Feilden Fowles, Neil Davidson from J&L Gibbons who oversaw the landscape architecture and Keith Jennings, the director of estates, projects and master planning for the museum. We wandered through woodland, inspected a wild garden (where sheep will shortly graze), saw the large pond where mayflies can still be spotted and heard the evening birdsong (some 3,300 insects and animals have been identified here by the museum’s scientific staff).
And just beyond the trees, hidden, there was a London that was moving at pace, a city giddy with this last blast of summer. But for those of us in the hands of Edmund, Neil and Keith, none of that mattered. We had been transported to another London, a secret natural landscape that we had only needed someone to give us the key to. Really, I barely know London at all.