Tranquil Nights
Shangri-La Hotel, Shenzhen
Next door, the park was majestic with every shade of green and seemed to possess a distinctively old soul, imparting its wisdom on to all who visited it. I strolled back to the hotel that morning feeling extraordinarily calm, as if the luscious park had bestowed on me a beautifully harmonious composure. In a matter of minutes, I had arrived at the hotel porte-cochere, where there was a soothing waterfall and two immaculately dressed porters standing cordially by the lobby doors, welcoming me with heartfelt smiles.
Inside the lobby, the air quivered with sheer loveliness. Crystal chandeliers and a charming collection of paintings and sculptures exhibited themselves proudly, giving the impression of a private art gallery. As always, it was the same two pieces behind the front desk that captivated me: two brilliant and sizeable circular oil paintings of deep red peach flowers, so magnificent they made time stand still, not even a moment would dare to pass.
In the cosiness of Fook Lam Moon’s private dining room, the golden glow from the chandeliers above softened our faces. Formalities were forgotten and conversations lightened, as if the warmth of the waiters had rubbed off on everyone in the room. The whirr of chatter was immensely relaxing and was silenced only by the arrival of the freshly sautéed lobster and its ambrosial aroma that filled the room.
In the middle of the room at Café Zen, three oversized vats of soup awaited, each one double-boiled and rich with layers of exquisite flavours. The first to be savoured was as delicious as it was healing; a robust brew of pork broth and watercress intricately woven with hints of ginseng and Chinese wolf berries. I was certain, however, there was something more to the soup, something almost too delicate to be detected. Although it would not be until after I had left the restaurant that it came to my realisation that the mysterious ingredient was love.
With just one window, one single piece of glass, two impossibly different worlds were separated. Outside, the cacophonic city rumbled from morning to night with the incessant clamour of people and cars. But on the inside, everything was different. Dark wood and throws of red and gold decorated the room beautifully, but more to my liking was the expansiveness; an invaluable sense of personal space, a precious silence, that stirred in me a deep and sincere contentment.
The piping hot water filled the glass teapot causing the chrysanthemum to unravel and blossom into beautiful white and yellow flowers that danced elegantly in the pot, steeping the tea and releasing the fresh smell of spring time into the air. Contentedly perched, high up in the Horizon Club Lounge, we sipped the sweet fragrant brew whilst gazing out at the glittering city skyline; and slowly, surely, everything that had consumed our minds that day ebbed silently into the night.
