THE roof went on fire the builder went bust, and it has cost Bono, the Edge and Harry Crosbie about £7 million so far. But at last The Clarence is open again and anyone with a whit of good taste will say it was cheap at the price.
Dublin has its first "boutique hotel" as smart as the Montalembert in Paris or the Royalton in New York and a lot friendlier. The porters wear Nehru jackets but they don't act as though they're God. Manager Claire O'Reilly trained in a string of five star London hotels and has dollops of native charm on top. And the 50 rooms, with their crisp cotton bed linen and Shaker style furniture have that gorgeous simplicity that only comes from buying the best.
There are no frills and flounces, no sachets of tea and coffee, no depressing fruit baskets. What there is, you'd like to take home and no doubt lots of guests will make off with the gold embroidered towels and the dinky table lamps.
Room rates start at £130 for a standard double and end at £1,000 for the fabulous twostorey, six room penthouse with its 40 foot loft living room and hot tub on the terrace. The bargain of the hotel is room 508, which has an enormous outdoor terrace overlooking the Liffey that is perfect for parties, launches and photo shoots - it's £225 a night.
It is not the most expensive hotel in town - the Shelbourne charges £172 for a double room, the Berkeley Court £175 - and its high profile owners will guarantee it good bookings all year round. Harry Crosbie has made a deal with the Point - everyone who performs there will stay at The Clarence, and Tina Turner (and her entourage) is already booked in for next month.
Friends of U2 aside, Mr Crosbie wants anyone and everyone to come in and enjoy it. "We're hoping to draw a completely eclectic mix of anyone who has any sense," he says. "Myself, Bono and Edge are fear fully proud of it. We feel we have made a significant contribution to Dublin." Anyone looking for rock star glitz will be disappointed. Chandeliers and leopardskin just don't feature in the interior designs by Keith Hobbs, Terence - Conran's chief - designer for 15 years, who worked on Quaglinos and Mezzo in London. His brief, and that of the architects, Dublin firm Costello Murray Beaumont, was to keep as many features of the old hotel as possible - like the oak panelling and terrazzo floors and the level of conservation is remarkable.
THE refurbishment was masterminded by international hotel consultant Grace Leo Andrieu, owner of the Hotel Montalembert, and she thinks it hits the right note of simplicity and luxury. "You can do simple and it looks poor, but we've done simple that looks really rich."
Curmudgeons will say that they preferred the old Clarence. True, it was dark and gloomy and it smelled of 100 years of cooked dinners, but it had a charm, they'll say. It was respectable.
The hotel first opened over 140 years ago, and was refurbished in the Arts and Crafts style around the turn of the century. After that there was little change, and it settled down to become a decent two star hotel with a solid clientele. Like its sister hotel, Wynns - both were owned by the same company, along with the Royal Exchange Temperance Hotel - it was full of parish priests and farmers, commercial travellers and shopkeepers and anyone who wanted a big feed.
In the dining room, elderly waiters dished up lashings of beef and roast potatoes, then staggered around behind an enormous dessert trolley that had enough trifle and lemon meringue pie on it to feed a whole parish. You could have a shovel full of everything, all on the one plate. There was a dais for dancing, and at the end of the evening you paid at a tiny cashier's booth at the door.
Tables were permanently reserved for certain shopkeepers and no one else would be allowed near them.
Juries always had their lunch at The Clarence, and the Octagon Bar harboured High Court judges and bohemians alike. The hotel's entrance was discreet and there was no real lobby. It was the perfect place to conduct a respectable affair. Mysteriously, every single door in the hotel had a number, including cupboards and telephone booths.
By the 1980s the hotel was seedy, but still popular. U2 were regulars, so when it came on the market in 1992, Bono and the Edge joined Harry Crosbie to buy it for around £2 million. The restaurant was turned into the Tea Room, a big bright brasserie that was ahead of its time. Temple Bar was not yet up and running as a business and tourist quarter. They also opened a bar and a nightclub, The Kitchen, which is still going.
The hotel closed for total refurbishment in November 1994. Harry Crosbie admits that it has been a gruelling job, that was set back by a major fire in the penthouse last year. "We went through a couple of sulks and fights, a few mental bloody noses, a few makings up. It was very hard and long but we are made of stern stuff, we were determined to hold the line on quality."
