Waters run deep: the unparalleled pool at Claridge’s new spa
(Picture: ES Magazine)I’m five storeys below ground, right in the centre of London. It’s pitch black as each and every muscle — face and body — is tenderised by extra-hot bamboo sticks, poultices full of chamomile and koji rice, and a little electric toothbrush-like machine that zaps currents through my muscles like one of those easy-ab machines from the Nineties but for your tired, wrinkly face.
A tired wrinkly face that I, for shame, walked into the brand new Claridge’s spa wearing. A spa that was the opposite of tired and wrinkly: a part of the legendary hotel’s brand new drill down into the London clay that promises to give the place the shoeshine it apparently needs. Now there’s a bunch of floors below ground with a bunch of incredible stuff in them: art galleries, wine cellars, retail. But I was here for the unveiling of arguably the most longawaited floor of all: the Claridge’s Spa.
