“Babymoon” – it’s on the long list of words or phrases that I would normally run a mile from, vying for position with “totes”, “cray cray” and “good/bad/happy/sad (delete as applicable) times”.
However, what it lacks in aural finesse, it makes up for in the fact that it allows those about to have a baby to stay in places like this for what will probably prove to be the last time in years:
With Elsa’s brother due in the next few weeks, we took the opportunity to book a swanky hotel in East London and relive our mid-twenties, strutting around the capital.
Well, as much as a middle-aged man and his heavily pregnant wife can strut.
We stayed at the M by Montcalm Shoreditch Tech City Hotel, which sounds as if it was named by committee:
“Let’s go for cool simplicity. How about just calling it ‘M’?”
“I love that, simplicity is spot on. But people need to know the company that owns it. Stick on ‘by Montcalm'”
“We should also add a location. You know, for search purposes. Put ‘Shoreditch’ at the end.”
“Shoreditch? People think hipsters. We want business people. Let them know there are businesses here.”
“Perfect. Well, actually, we should also inform visitors that it is a hotel, just to make sure.”
“So, our simple name is now ‘M by Montcalm Shoreditch Tech City Hotel’?”
“So simple. Perfect.”
It’s the sort of place where they call you ‘sir’ and WhatsApp you before you arrive to find out if there’s anything they can do to make your stay more comfortable. The latter would have been more impressive if they had actually managed to provide any of the stuff I asked for, but it’s the thought that counts, right?
It was a lovely place to stay, close enough to stuff that we wanted to do and contained enough superfluous gadgets to keep me entertained, as you can see from the video. And no, they haven’t paid for this mention – I’d have cut out the WhatsApp bit otherwise. And the name thing. And the superfluous technology stuff. Well, most of it really.
Better than Newcastle
It was certainly a marked improvement on the place where we stayed on our babymoon in Newcastle before Elsa. On that occasion, an Irish hen party woke us up at 1am as they came back to change their shoes in as noisy a fashion as possible, and again at 5am when they competed in the first annual Tyneside extreme shouting competition, breezing through to claim the gold medal.
They then had the temerity to hang the ‘Do Not Disturb’ signs out when eventually the shrieking abated. I would have taken great glee in banging loudly on each of their doors but for an eight-month pregnant Jill, who may not have been able to make as quick a getaway as would have been required.
Did you go on babymoon before your children were born? Any recommendations for others? Anywhere to avoid? Let me know in the comments.