Princely Estate
Shangri-La Hotel, Paris
As we strolled along the cobblestone streets heading back to the hotel, the late afternoon breeze felt crisp on our faces and the comforting aroma of coffee grinds tickled our noses. Leafy olive-green trees rustled gently and if we stopped and listened very carefully, we could still hear the words of philosophers and poets lingering in the air.
We arrived at a quaint little bridge crossing over the River Seine, and as it would happen, our timing was impeccable, as with each step we took over the bridge, the wrought-iron lamps that lined our path began to flicker on one by one. At the same time, all the buildings and streets began to light up too, filling the city like an ocean of stars, and as the entire city lit up around us, there we stood spellbound on the bridge, amidst this magnificent panorama of lights. Indeed, it was some time before we could breathe again.
When we passed through the iron gates of this palace that was once home to Prince Roland Bonaparte, we were met by a doorman donning a most endearing smile. His welcome was so sincere that we could literally feel it in our hearts, and his whole demeanour was so exceptionally amicable that I could not help but ponder what wonderful legacy the good prince had left behind.
Inside the lobby, an ethereal brightness embraced us gently, and two white and gold Chinese vases flanked the hallway, and were so impressive it was as if they had come from a real Ming Dynasty palace. Burnt caramel and cream coloured marble tiles embellished the floor, whilst up above, elegant chandeliers dangled with that unmistakable Parisian charm. What we had found most remarkable, however, was that despite the hotel’s opulence and grandeur, it had an aura that was genuinely welcoming, settling us from deep within.
Leaving a panorama of glittering stars outside, we stepped into L’Abeille restaurant where a flurry of silver, grey and taupe tones greeted us politely. Bright yellow roses dotted every table set perfectly with delicate porcelain tableware. Coffee-coloured taffeta curtains draped the walls, and up above, smoky crystal chandeliers softened the room. In true Parisian style, the restaurant possessed an incomparable refinement, and with our blue lobster entrées poached to perfection, we were transported to an unchartered world of culinary excellence.
The next night, the dazzling Shang Palace whisked us back to the imperial days of China with its interior of mahogany carved screens, luminous jade columns and a collection of Chinese artwork and vases reminiscent of the Ming Dynasty. The restaurant’s signature dish was as appetising as it was artistic — an iridescent rainbow of finely shredded vegetables, delicate slices of salmon sashimi and lashings of a deliciously piquant sesame dressing.
The day ended perfectly out on the terrace of our suite with a kaleidoscope of colours glittering before us. The Eiffel Tower stood poised by our side shimmering with a soft golden glow, towering over the city and miniaturising everything in sight. As we let our minds wander through the adventures of the day, a soft Parisian breeze swirled majestically at our feet, and with every sip of our champagne, the day dissipated and filed itself away into a neat little album of enchanting memories. Finally, when we could not keep our eyes open any longer, we retired to our plush white tea scented room. We drew the heavy velvet drapes behind us and nestled into the king sized bed that was so comfortable that within minutes we were back outside, adrift on a cotton-candy like cloud sailing over this incredible City of Light.
