Chiswick travel review: An oasis in west London

I stayed in uber-cool Chiswick on the west of the ginormous English capital a few weeks ago, and across a Wednesday and Thursday of sightseeing, restaurant-hopping and gin-guzzling, I didn’t once encounter the famous cockney accent.

Well, that’s the first small exaggeration of this piece, and I can’t promise the last. For on one of two flying visits to Mr Fogg’s Tavern on Covent Garden, as quintessentially English a pub as you’re ever likely to find — with pictures on the walls of Victorian dignitaries, eccentric bric-a-brac poking out from every nook and cranny, and Union Jack pendants dangling from the ceiling — the old 1900s music hall ditty ‘I am Henery the Eighth I am’ was playing in the background, sung in the most caricatured, working-class East End cockney imaginable.

The waitresses were all dressed from that era too, their long shawls reminiscent of the staid drudgery of those impoverished times. But again that’s where the London theme stopped, as tall, immaculate Germans beside me clinked glasses boisterously and tucked into stainless steel mugs stuffed with cheese croquettes.

Right here, in the heart of theatre-land, the prices are suitably terrifying. A cool £30 for two ‘Fanny’s Espresso Martinis’, including service charge, reminded me I was out of my depth.

Still, when in…em, the West End.

No doubt my first impressions of London were skewed by the fact I spent two days almost entirely in the hospitality and tourism sectors, which tend to recruit heavily from migrant workers, but whether it was concierges, waiting staff, bartenders or anyone else for that matter, this brisk stopover was a window into the world.

I had always admired the sheer diversity of Dublin, but London is another level, and my mind boggled at the fascinating back stories of all those people I met: some here to escape the grind in their homeland; others after falling in love, perhaps, with one of the nine million people who call here home.

And others still, here out of a sense of adventure, for a piece of the action, or from sheer bloody-minded ambition.

If you can make it here, you can make it anywhere, to misappropriate that old Sinatra hit.

On arrival at our delightful hotel, room2 — the world’s first fully net zero hotel, so the boast goes — we were greeted by Serena, who informed us she was from the “heel of Italy”.

“Oh, Calabria,” I interjected smugly.

“No, Puglia. Calabria is the toe, Puglia the heel.” Suitably chastened, I learned to keep my misplaced confidence in check from then on.

Then there was Roberta, a compatriot of Serena’s who hails from Palermo, the capital of Sicily.

She came to London simply to broaden her horizons, while Frenchman Benjamin is only moonlighting at the hotel while he pursues his real passion, acting. Who knew Chiswick was a stepping stone to superstardom?

But that’s the thing about this city, those bright lights twinkle for anyone. All you need is a dream, and the guts to chase it.

Me? I’m too old for that dreaming carry-on, all I was interested in at this stage was a humble pint of beer having been on the go for about four hours, including the hour’s flight from Belfast, and then the same by train from Gatwick.

(Heathrow is just 20 minutes from Chiswick but flights dictated I booked Gatwick on this occasion.)

Alighting at Turnham Green, I’d only minutes to wait before that thirst was quenched as I stumbled upon The Old Pack Inn, a traditional English pub dating back to 1905.

Well, traditional up to a point. This being London, while inside was as rustic and shabby as you like, the hostelry also doubles as a Thai restaurant. I was sorely tempted, but with a reservation later that evening for Chop Chop, the Penang Kung Yai — sizzling king prawns in curry — will have to wait.

Chiswick was once the stomping ground of our own WB Yeats, and the Nobel laureate clearly had refined tastes for it’s all wonderfully leafy and arty and bohemian here.

About 15 minutes from central London, it’s still accessible if you want to do the tourism thing — and the missus and I did, taking a taxi boat down the Thames, dandering along The Mall at Buckingham Palace, and wandering aimlessly around Westminster. But it’s also far enough away from the madding crowd to catch your breath; to decompress and de-stress.

In fact, Chiswick reminded me a little of Belfast’s Lisburn Road, only on a much bigger scale.

While there are some of the chains you see on most high streets — the likes of Five Guys, Zizzi, Costa, Pizza Express, Nandos and Waterstones — they were vastly outnumbered by the smaller independents and delis on the boulevard-like, cafe-lined High Road.

There’s street stalls hawking all sorts; plus fruit shops and bakeries and jewellers and sushi bars.

There’s Amorino serving up ‘Gelato al naturale’; Chipotle promising the best burrito bowls; The Pink Elephant doing a line in tea party platters, and Foster’s second-hand book store, the oldest shop in Chiswick no less.

And you’ll not want for your flat white either, for there are coffee houses too. Coffee houses galore.

As for the culinary offering, round the corner from our hotel is Rock & Rose, a high-class cocktail bar and restaurant, and a little further down the road, La Trompette — something of a Chiswick institution with its Michelin star — plus the highly-rated French bistro, Le Vacherin, among plenty of others.

For people-watching, The High Road Brasserie not far from room2 comes recommended, as does Megan’s at The Flower Market, with its big blue canopies and bottomless brunches.

With so much on your doorstep, there’s no need to dine at the hotel, which is just as well, as room2 only caters for breakfasts, with the cafe transforming into a cocktail bar by night.

It’s a trendy space all the same. Down early for a croissant one morning, there was already a row of twentysomethings seated, MacBooks flipped open, headphones on, bagels and coffees to hand.

It was unclear whether they were guests, or just workers seeking out this peaceful sanctuary.

So yes, laidback is very much the theme at room2, with the up-and-coming brand — which is poised to open soon in Belfast — positioning itself as environmentally attuned, affordable, self-catering accommodation. The clue is in the name, ‘hometel’ — a cross between a flat and a hotel.

Not that it scrimps on style. The rooms are excellent, funky in their own way, and come complete with comfy sofas and well-stocked kitchenette.

In keeping with the net zero theme, all loose furniture in its 86 rooms is manufactured within 10 miles of the property, so its green credentials are impeccable.

Indeed, in a place where the carpets are fashioned from recycled fishing nets and even the honey you have on your cereal is made by bees on a roof covered in soil and wildflowers, I felt guilty just using the iron.

I needn’t have worried, though. Renewable energy is maximised on site, with solar and ground source heat pumps converting 100% of the energy needed for heating, cooling and hot water.

With all this in mind, I would wager the choice of location for brothers Robert and Stuart Godwin’s venture is no coincidence either, as famously, Bedford Park in Chiswick was the world’s first garden-suburb.

Back in Victorian times, with London at the vanguard of industrialisation, planners came up with the idea of bringing the countryside to the city. So as an antidote to the overcrowded squalor of the inner-city slums, Bedford Park was to be spacious, green and invigorating.

The legacy of all this forward-thinking is affluence. This former fishing village skirting the River Thames between Hammersmith and Brentford is well-heeled and sure of itself, with the average cost of a home a cool £1.5m, according to The Sunday Times.

And Yeats is not the only luminary charmed by Chiswick. His literary contemporary EM Forster resided here too, while The Who rocker Pete Townsend and the actor Colin Firth have all called Chiswick home at one time or another.

A good omen, then, for room2’s aspiring star Benjamin.

Travel factfile

room2 Belfast is due to open this August and is set to become a hub for the community in the heart of the bustling city, moments away from Belfast’s most popular attractions.

The new property will consist of 175 rooms across nine floors as well as a vibrant café, coffee roastery, meeting and event spaces, a gym, bar and a spacious lounge available for both guests and locals alike looking for an eco-friendly spot to work, relax or simply catch-up with friends.

Rates in Belfast start from £149 per night, and in room2 Chiswick from the same. For more info: room2.com/belfast/

Food review: Showgirls and show-stoppers at Chop Chop

Chop Chop by Four Seasons at The Hippodrome

Leicester Square, London

Tel: 020 7769 8888

The stakes could hardly be higher. I was in the world-famous Hippodrome Casino in Leicester Square, and the tension was building at my table.

Like the stony-faced gamblers on the next floor, beads of sweat beginning to bubble on their foreheads with £28,000 on the line, I too was stressing over whether to stick or twist.

Would it be the signature dish of Hong Kong style roast duck, hailed by the Financial Times as ‘the best in the world’, or the sexy-sounding stewed beef brisket in chu hou sauce.

For unlike those hustlers on the main floor, I wouldn’t know my Blackjack from my Jack Change It.

Instead, I was deep in the bowels of the Hippodrome, where Chop Chop by Four Seasons is located.

The venue itself is fascinating. Opened in 1900, the first show was a musical, Giddy Ostend, featuring a little-known actor by the name of Charlie Chaplin.

One of the newest Chinese restaurants on the scene in London it may be, but the Four Seasons restaurant group behind it know their way around, and this spot is sure to prove another hit.

Inspired by 1960s Hong Kong, with formica-topped tables, stools, intimate booths and high counter seating, the vibe here is casual.

And it would need to be. Open to 4 in the morning, I can’t imagine too many couples dressed to the nines heading out specifically for a 2am curry. No, the target clientele here is those gamblers up above, the IT crowd dancing away in the nightclub on the fifth floor, and people like me, who take a notion for a Chinese after taking in a show.

Whatever the reason, the food here is good and easy on the wallet, with all the traditional crowd-pleasers and classics, including crispy duck pancakes and dim sum dumplings, plus other signature dishes such as char sui BBQ pork, roast crispy pork belly, and black pepper lobster with asparagus.

We kicked off with a double helping of salt and pepper starters, ordering the prawns and squid.

I can’t look past either on a menu and these vindicated my loyalty, the flesh of both tender and juicy, encased in a gorgeous tempura batter, lending it just enough crunch, the flecks of salt, pepper and chilli providing an injection of heat and spice.

Then for mains, we shared beef black bean, and the signature Cantonese style roast duck.

Two salt lovers, the black bean was a triumph, the beef tender, the salty sauce rich and savoury and intense.

The much-trumpeted duck, meanwhile, was a show-stopper. The recipe is a jealously-guarded secret here, the only info divulged that it’s roasted in a special furnace. Whatever they do, it was a fabulous dish, succulent and aromatic, with the mysterious array of spices it was marinated in infusing the slightly pink duck meat, the skin still crispy. Wonderful.

Talking of mysteries, Lola’s Underground Casino where the Chinese is located is so-called in honour of showgirl Lola McGuire, who vanished in 1914 as the Met swooped on the illegal drinking den she ran under the stage at the Hippodrome. No trace of her was ever seen again.

More than 100 years on, much like the Chop Chop kitchen, the building still refuses to give up its secrets.