Kensington Hotel South Africa
Kensington Place
It's the fourth day of our honeymoon and for the first time Mr Smith and I find ourselves alone. Having temporarily lost my sanity I’d concocted some hare-brained scheme to take 30 of our closest friends on a whirlwind trip of the Western Cape directly after our wedding, and so my new husband and I find ourselves chaperoning, directing and pandering to a big bunch of badly behaved adults. Instead of newlyweds we feel like schoolmaster and matron responsible not only for everyone’s safety and wellbeing but for ensuring that a jolly good time is had by all. We’ve played with the penguins on Boulders Beach, ticked off the Big Five at Aquila Game Reserve and drunk Zevenwacht Wine Estate dry. But there is no way in hell that this crew are encroaching upon our sanctuary at Kensington Place. Looking over our sleeping quarters and winking at each other smugly, we wordlessly agree that this fine establishment is far too special to share.
A steel spiral staircase has secreted us to room 8 – our ritzy tree house in the clouds. The crisp linen on our huge bed is whiter than an Emirati man’s dishdasha, the freestanding bath comes equipped with coconut shells filled with soothing salts, and our private balcony overlooks the cyan-coloured pool and the twinkling sea. Now what? Not used to being on our own, we’re not sure what to do next. Usually we’d crack open the complimentary bottle of sparkling South African wine that is chilling on ice, but yesterday’s marathon Sauvignon Blanc session means our stomachs churn at the thought.
So, after testing the magnificent power of our rainshower, and admiring the pop art on the walls, the checked suede mats on the floors, the oversized ostrich feather lampshade and the seascape painting alongside the bath, (strategically placed so that it is eye level once you’re seated in the tub), we descend our rungs to flop by the pool. Gloriously we are the only one’s here. The brisk water contrasts deliciously against our searing skin and I allow myself a little moan of content.
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1855 Kensington Exhibition Hotel Munsch Vienna Jasmine Home (old-print)
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