What happened to Shangri-La Hotel’s Blu Bar on 36?

A luxury hotel group should be able to operate a rooftop bar without turning the whole thing into a very expensive remake of Fawlty Towers, writes The Mouth.

The Shangri-La Hotel in Sydney. Picture / Monique Harmer

In the world of food and drink, some things should be basically impossible to screw up.

Like, the average human adult should be able to whip up a bowl of pasta or some bacon and eggs without burning the house down.

And the average luxury hotel group should be able to operate a rooftop bar looking down on one of the most visually appealing cities on Earth without turning the thing into a very expensive remake of Fawlty Towers. Yet, here we are. Or rather, were. Specifically, at the awkwardly named Blu Bar on 36, high atop the otherwise lovely Shangri-La Hotel in the Rocks.

The other night this column had the misfortune of fetching up at Blu for drinks having recalled pre-pandemic visits that were a hell of a lot of fun.

Blu Bar on 36.

Something clearly happened to it over the pandemic, however, because Blu has gone downhill faster than one of the high-speed lifts that provide customers with their long-sought liberation.

It is not clear exactly how this happened but unlike every other venue in Sydney that survived the pandemic, did new fit-outs, renovated its menus, and so on, Blu Bar 36 managed to make itself worse.

The decor at Shangri-La's Blu Bar on 36. Picture: Supplied

The decor at Shangri-La's Blu Bar on 36. Picture: Supplied

Service is straight out of Fawlty Towers: Our table ordered martinis, some dirty, some classic, and all came clear as a bell – but only after half an hour of prodding. Less complicated drinks were just as hard to come by. It was easier to get a glass of water in the sand dunes of Saudi Arabia’s Empty Quarter than sitting at a table in this joint.

Even the furniture has taken a nosedive. Where once were plush armchairs and sofas now sit a rickety tables and vinyl chairs that look like they were bought at a Gray’s Auction for a defunct bowlo.

The most depressing thing about Blu is that it used to be wonderful. It was certainly one of the most elegant and romantic places in town. The worst person we know actually proposed to his wife there the night Donald Trump got elected.

We dug up some old pictures and confirmed our memories were correct: Plush arm chairs and sofas that said settle in and feel like a master of the universe for a few hours.

Now, though, Blu has all the luxe feel and charm of a “No credit? No problem!” motor dealership. Or to put it another way, when it comes to Blu, it blows.