GEMMA TIPTONstays at the Morgan in Dublin
LOOKING AT a woman in the bar of the Morgan Hotel, in Temple Bar in Dublin, I started to wonder about the things we put ourselves through for the sake of style. The weather outside was bitingly cold, and chill winds were filtering through to the front of the stylish bar. Nonetheless, this woman crossed one bare leg (ending in a strappy high-heeled sandal) over the other and leaned back in her skimpy party frock to stare lovingly at her partner – and, perhaps, to gaze even more lustfully at his thick woolly jumper and co-ordinating scarf. Later, she would shrug on a light leopard-print coat and stand outside with him, sharing the warmth of a cigarette.
To tell the truth, she looked more in keeping at the Morgan than I did. It’s a highly designed sort of place, all funky touches, such as long white corridors with lit chandeliers resting at angles on the floor. There are cool-looking chairs, candelabra, enormous mirrors leaning against walls and lots of leather, lacquer and velvet.
But, having just come from the cafe at the Westbury, where we had watched Naomi Campbell alight from a car in a flurry of doormen, long legs, luggage and superior pouting, we were in the mood for a little stylish drama. I’m evidently not dramatically stylish enough, however, because as dusk fell the music became loud and (to us) unbearable, and we decided it was time to investigate upstairs.
Given that the hotel is in Temple Bar, where the late-night streets are apt to be noisy, I had asked for a room as high up as possible, so we headed up to the fourth floor. I shouldn’t have worried, as its double glazing gave excellent sound-proofing. The room was pretty small, and showed some signs of wear and tear in all that chic, cool design. There was also mould on the bathroom ceiling, and the whole thing felt pretty cold, so I turned on the radiator, and decided to run a bath while the room heated up. There were lovely White Company toiletries, although, rather meanly, there was only one set. Also mean is that there was only one pair of slippers and no bathrobes at all.
Bath over, the radiator (in evident need of bleeding) showed no signs of warming the room, so I made the first of many calls to reception. An hour later my list of demands – I was beginning to feel like a hostage taker – had grown. I wanted an extra duvet, I wanted a bathrobe, I wanted the internet to work and I wanted a hotel directory, to see what else I might want.
After more than an hour (and three more calls) the duvets arrived, together with a very charming man who bashed the radiator a bit and then went away again.
Another charming woman (they’re all rather lovely at the Morgan) came and told us that you only get bathrobes and wireless internet in the deluxe rooms. I pointed out the sign on top of the television that said “free wireless internet”. “Ah,” she said. “That shouldn’t be there.” She kindly gave me a lead for my computer and said I wouldn’t be charged.
Cosy now in my hard-won extra duvet, I ordered room service, and even though what did arrive wasn’t what I ordered (and appeared nowhere on the menu), I enjoyed it nonetheless.
During the night, even though the radiator never rose above a thin warmth, the room inexplicably heated up and was more than toasty by breakfast time. The hotel directory never arrived.
Breakfast is served buffet-style in the bar and was good. The coffee was excellent, and my fellow diners all seemed to be enjoying themselves hugely. They were stylish types, with sharp haircuts and angular glasses (the men) and cool boots and narrow dresses (the women).
A group at a round table seemed to be arguing quite happily over a forthcoming photoshoot – perhaps in the retro-aluminium caravan that sits on the penthouse suite’s terrace. They and the Morgan seemed made for each other, and I realised that had I liked the music enough to stay all evening in the bar drinking award-winning cocktails, before heading upstairs to pass out in my very comfortable bed, I might have had no problems with the Morgan. It was only when tested that it came up wanting.
As I was checking out, the manager asked me the regulation “how was your stay?” question, so I told him. He immediately apologised and took all the extras off my bill. He also asked me to detail the issues, so that he could resolve them. I really hope he does, because if you’re a funky type who can handle extremes of heat and cold, and have better things to do in your room than check out the internet, then the Morgan might well be the ideal hotel for you.
WhereThe Morgan, Temple Bar, Dublin, 01-6437000, www.themorgan.com.
WhatFour-star boutique hotel.
Rooms106 rooms and 15 apartments, including a penthouse with rooftop garden and Airstream caravan.
Best ratesFrom €140 BB per room per night. Online offers include a shopping package of €99 BB pps, including a €50 shopping voucher, plus overnight parking.
Restaurant and barOpen-plan bar-restaurant with cocktail and tapas menu.
Child-friendlinessTwo family rooms available.
AccessTwo wheelchair- accessible bedrooms.
AmenitiesCocktail bar, meeting rooms, heated outdoor courtyard, city-centre location. Car parking €9 (6pm-9am) in Fleet Street car park.