TRAVEL

THE SAVOY 

“You Don’t Just Stay at The Savoy,

The Savoy Stays With You”

The Savoy in London is a very special hotel. For guests arriving from The Strand or the Riverside entrance, a doorman greets you, wearing a top hat and tailcoats. You enter this grand building, with it’s wood panelling and iconic checkered floor.

But if you are staff, you walk down an alley and enter the hotel via a side door. You clock in, greet the security guard on duty and go to change into your uniform. I worked as an AV Technician (sound and lighting) in the Banqueting department of the hotel for four years. My job was insane. It was not unusual to work a 60 hour week, sometimes more. But what kept me sane was the variety. No two functions were ever the same. No day was ever the same as the last one. I met officials, politicians and celebrities every day; sports players, singers, actors.

Sometimes I would arrive at the hotel at 6.30 to rig the sound and lighting for a conference. In the afternoon I would de-rig and prepare everything for a gala dinner, fashion show or awards dinner. Some of us would be there working until after a function to de-rig again, sometimes at 1 or 2 a.m. Often by that hour there was just a Head Waiter or two, the back of house table guys and me.

Often I didn’t go home. It just wasn’t worth it.

On those nights I would usually go to a club or bar for an hour or two, to decelerate after the working day. We flashed our hotel ID, to queue jump lots of local places. Then I would return to The Lancaster Ballroom, to the tiny sound room in the corner, and get my head down on the sound desk for a couple of hours. The bleep of my pager would typically wake me around 6.45 and work started all over again.

Sometimes I would get a bed in a maids room. Many housekeeping staff stayed in house. If I was lucky I would get a river suite organised for me by someone in Management, a small gesture of thanks for all the double shifts.

I can remember one time in a River suite, and phoning friends in Room Service to ask for Kelloggs Frosties. A few minutes later there was a knock at the door. My colleague had arrived with the cereal beautifully presented on a silver tray, with a bone china bowl and a jug of milk. And there were two Kelloggs variety pack sized boxes on the tray. “That will be 10 pounds please’ joked my colleague.

There are so many highlights from those few years. I vaguely remember signing something at the time, which meant that we would never disclose anything that we saw with guests, protecting celebrities and royalty who would frequently stay in the suites. Discretion. But if those walls could talk!

I recall a time that Reception paged me. That was strange, as Banqueting was a completely different department. I took the opportunity to take a detour via the American bar. I used to love to grab a chat with Head Barman Peter Dorelli, always so sociable; a brilliant barman. Then I headed to Reception. They explained the issue. And because it was to do with sound, Reception staff had decided to call me. They said that there were “strange noises” coming from one of the higher floors. I think from memory it was the eighth floor. The request was “please go and see what is bothering our guests”. So cheekily I took the guest lift instead of the service lift, and made my way up there. The lift doors opened and I was immediately greeted by two security guards, for Lucianno Pavarotti. And within seconds I heard the Italian tenor’s phenomenal voice fill the corridor, singing parts of opera, ahead of his sell out show that evening, at The Royal Opera House. I returned to Reception and said to them “Tell any complaining guests that they are getting a complimentary performance by Lucianno Pavarotti”.

There were particular familiar faces who I used to look forward to seeing. Ronnie Corbett, Ned Sherrin and the gentlemen of the ‘Saints and Sinners’ events, were always so much fun. And there were certain functions that I would look forward to working, like the Wimbledon Lawn Tennis Championship dinner and the Mercury Music Prize. Actor Richard Harris used to have a dedicated suite and would spend extended amounts of time at the hotel. But he often preferred to eat with us in the staff canteen, and share a few drinks at The Savoy Tavern, nearby.

I was star-struck only twice in four years.

Once was meeting Sean Connery. It was early, before a press conference. I was working in the River Suite, the only large function room in the hotel with natural lighting and a river view. I was running cables for microphones, down on my hands and knees and wearing my hotel boiler suit. Sean Connery breezed in swiftly. He stood over me and greeted me with a deep “Good morning, lass”. So very tall and charismatic.

The other time, which resulted in very real blushing, was meeting my rugby hero at the time, Lawrence Dallaglio. Again I was wearing that damn boiler suit! I would only get changed into my dinner suit for an evening function. Someone took a photo of me with the entire England squad, before a press conference. I wish I had a copy.

My work would take me to the private rooms, as well as the large banqueting halls. When I used to set up the A.V equipment in The Pinafore room, I would often imagine Winston Churchill and his men around the large table; ‘The Other Club’. And I’d always glance over at the replica of Kaspar the cat, the ‘extra guest’ who would be seated at the table, if there was ever an unlucky 13 people at a private dinner.

Fairmont’s slogan is right; “You Don’t Just Stay at The Savoy, The Savoy Stays With You”. I learned so much in those four years. You had to work with such a range of people and have the ability to communicate with everyone from pop stars to politicians. And the hotel instilled working at a high level, offering excellence in everything that you did. Those skills stay with you, along with the stories.

There are hotels and then there are special hotels, that have a unique character and history. The Savoy belongs in that category. This very special hotel has born witness to so much, over 113 years.

Have you stayed at The Savoy?

© Maggie M / Mother City Time

© Image by Mark Hardy