Its location is described as the "Paris end" of Melbourne, being within a block of the imposing Parliament House, the Treasury and Museum, the Fitzrey gardens. Beautiful parks, cathedrals and exclusive stores are within walking distance. Further, a tram which offers free rides stops in front of The Windsor, thus providing the tourist practical, leisurely means of sight-seeing.
Victorian elegance, conveyed by exquisite portraits of 19th century personages (among other decor pieces), a muted opulence and an ambiance of old-world gentility are combined with the most modern facilities imaginable.
For instance, the ultimate pampering of guests comes with the "Pillow menu"–a selection of pillows to suit the fastidious sleeper, from snorer to insomniac. Here are a few samples.
The aromatherapy pillow, a cure for a sleepless night, is filled with soothing herbs such as lavender and rose petals. When placed next to the head on top of the regular pillow, the guest will soon feel himself "drifting into slumber". The bath pillow means "a long soak in a steaming bubble bath for total relaxation". A word of warning: Don’t fall asleep in the bath! The anti-snore (Silent Knight) pillow, winner of the silver and bronze medals in the prestigious Geneva Salon of Inventions, is supposed to stop or reduce snoring in 70 percent of people.
The "caress" pillow massages the guest while he is in dreamland. Six hundred foam fingertips (created from simulated latex) gently massage the skin to induce sleep–and believe it or not–to help prevent sleep lines.
One might presume the royals pampering themselves with these fanciful inventions. In any case such amenities–and many more–give the guest a vague, subtle feeling of being a royal. For instance, awaiting me on the delicately carved dressing table with its large, built-in mirror, were letters of welcome from management. When I turned on television, I was pleasantly surprised to read on the screen: "Welcome, M. R. Orosa". As I looked around the spacious room with its Victorian furniture, I thought a small tea party could be held in it. Enroute to the restaurant, I inevitably noticed porters, chambermaids and waiters greeting visitors courteously and often deferentially.
The Windsor’s signature restaurant, named after the hotel’s exact location 111 Spring Street, offers epicurean dishes which, prepared by Executive Chef Tom Milligan, "features classical French influences mixed with subtle nods towards Asia".
What most closely hews to tradition is the afternoon tea which has been served at The Windsor for the last 120 years. It includes a "sumptuous" selection of finger sandwiches, pastries, the very English scones cakes offered on an elegant three-tier stand. On weekends, "indulgent" themes tempt the tastebuds: The Ice Cream Indulgence (April to September) is an array of icy delights; the Chocolate Indulgence (April to September) is a chocoholic’s heaven, and the Classic Indulgence (October to December) is a buffet full of Australian delicacies. So reads the menu card.
Who of the celebrities might have identified themselves as teatime "chocoholics"? Eminent personalities who were once billeted at The Windsor include former Australian Prime Ministers Malcolm Fraser and Paul Keating, former British Prime Minister Sir Harold Wilson, danseur Rudolf Nureyev, Lord Snowdon, Dame Joan Sutherland (diva), actors Sir Laurence Olivier, Sir Michael Redgrave, Sir Ralph Richardson, Vivien Leigh, Katherine Hepburn, Gina Lollobrigida, Vincent Price, Oscar awardee Merly Streep, Deborah Kerr, and scores more, not the least of these Australian Ambassador to the Philippines Ruth Pearce who had previously served as ambassador to Russia.
No VIP’s, royal or otherwise, were at The Windsor during my recent stay there, but shortly before my flight to Sydney to catch my plane for Manila, I met, to my immense gratification, what must be the modern counterpart of a knight in shining armor. To my mind, he epitomized most eloquently the spirit–the tradition–of The Windsor. How?
On that early morning, the foyer, looking desolate, was deserted except for the presence of this man. He started to chat with me behind the counter, and as our conversation grew more interesting, he suggested my taking a seat in the foyer (lobby), and his standing some distance in front of me. In that manner, he explained, I would not be craning my neck. I did not realize he had been seated behind the counter all this time; when he joined me and escorted me to the foyer, he turned out to be six feet, five inches tall. I quickly understood the reason for his thoughtful suggestion: while continuing our conversation, he would have towered over me to his discomfort–and particularly to mine!
We talked about the theater, musicals, leading universities, tourist attractions, etc. We were both enjoying our spirited exchange of travel impressions when the car that was to take me to the airport finally arrived. Seconds after I had boarded the vehicle, he quickly noticed I was having some difficulty with the seat belt. He adjusted it. He then returned to the hotel and as he stood at the entrance, he kept waving at me until he was hardly visible.
How like a royal princess this Australian Sir Galahad had made me feel while he was graciously keeping me company at virtually break of dawn!