The Langham, Gold Coast Chairman’s Suite Review
There’s a new Brit on the block. Travel + Luxury checked into the Chairman’s Suite — the priciest and most-requested offering — to see if it lives up to its lavish reputation.
Leave the balcony doors open and the roar of the ocean is still audible up on the 20th floor of The Langham, Gold Coast. Blissfully submerged in the spa bath of the Chairman’s Suite, the priciest and yet most in-demand of 17 room categories, I listen to the symphony of the waves and watch the sky outside turn from indigo to inky black.
The hypnotic pounding of surf on sand offers a refreshing twist on a largely urban “grand hotel” tradition that started in 1865, when The Langham, London threw open its doors in what was then the world’s largest city, and the capital of the British Empire.
Today, at this Antipodean beachside outpost, all the ultra-refined Langham touches remain reassuringly in place, but raw nature reigns supreme.
Earlier today, guest relations manager Selina Liu led me through the palatial two-bedroom suite spanning 340sq m, pointing out features including two vast marbled bathrooms, sprawling living areas decorated with objets d’art, a full-sized study, and butler’s pantry. Most importantly, she provided operating instructions for the remote control so I could access anything from new-release movies to cocktail recipes on the largest of five flatscreen televisions.
From almost every vantage point, there are stunning ocean views, which orient me as I later lurch from room to room, trying to figure out where my suitcase is stowed. Comprising 169 hotel guestrooms and suites and 170 serviced apartments stacked in the centremost of three Jewel towers, The Langham Gold Coast is the first luxury beachfront build on this strip in more than three decades. Here, at the elision of Broadbeach and Surfers Paradise, there’s a long arc of shell-studded sand, fringed by vegetated dunes and the restless Pacific Ocean.
Between the dunes and the hotel lies the Gold Coast Oceanway, a 36km path which, when completed in a couple of years, will link The Spit in the north with Point Danger in the south. On the weekend I visit, the newly opened section of the trail outside the hotel is heaving with joggers, cyclists, skateboarders, electric-scooter riders, pram pushers, dog walkers and dawdlers. All are decked out in casual or active wear as they sweat and soak up the late afternoon rays.
Inside, though, key elements of the Langham’s signature style have been transplanted wholesale. They include lavish sprays of freshly cut pink flowers, elegant furniture and uniforms, gleaming silverware and fine bone china, a lobby scented with ginger flower, and the ever-smiling “service stylists” who swan about in tailored pastel pink suits.
Then there’s the Langham’s trademark afternoon tea served in Palm Court.
“We don’t call it high tea,” marketing communications director Victoria Peterson says emphatically. High tea, she explains, was a substantial, mostly savoury meal, eaten by members of the English working classes at the end of the day. Afternoon tea, on the other hand, evolved from the snacking habits of a 19th-century duchess with a sociable bent and a sweet tooth.
I sip a glass of Champagne and admire the freestanding three-tiered tower that arrives, laden with sandwiches, dainty desserts such as a flowerpot crafted from chocolate, and fluffy scones served with strawberry-rhubarb jam, silky lemon curd, and whipped velvet cream, all made in-house.
I’m polishing off a pot of Aussie Breakfast tea and feeling quite the lady when I’m reminded that despite the very Britishness of this institution, we’re still on the suntanned, salt-sprayed, social-climbing, body-conscious, party-loving Gold Coast. A heavily tattooed man, dressed in muscle singlet and cut-off denim shorts, is stalking past a wall of flowers, looking none-too-pleased to be tasked with snapping shots of his belle as she pretends to hold an animated conversation in a fake British phone booth.
Pale pink rather than fire engine red, the phone booth is stuffed with plastic pink and white roses, having first been installed in a local shopping centre as part of a “PR activation”, says Peterson. It proved such a hit it was moved just outside the entrance to Palm Court, where it has become one of the hotel’s more popular spots for a selfie.
Another photogenic spot is the sinuous outdoor pool with sandy lagoon-style entrance, swim-up pool bar and a smattering of circular sun decks. The pool is heated, making it a good choice on a chilly day, or when the ocean’s stinger count is up. The only incongruous note is its location right beside the busy front driveway where limousine and taxi drivers set their pampered passengers down. Some might prefer the indoor magnesium pool adjacent to the gymnasium. Even on a rainy day, you can still stretch out on a lounger here, sip a drink and, through the window, watch palm trees sway in the breeze.
The Langham, Gold Coast, welcomed its first guests in June, with all-day diner Akoya, the Lobby Bar and Palm Court, and cafe 26 & Sunny operating from the get-go. Other venues have quietly come online since then. My visit is scheduled a smidgen too soon to road test the Chuan Spa, more’s the pity. Instead, I chill at Coral Moon, an open-air bar slinging Asian-inspired cocktails such as the Matcha Muchness, a delicious green blend based on local gin and topped with a lychee and purple viola blossom.
Dinner is at T’ang Court, Langham’s signature Michelin-starred Cantonese fine-dining restaurant. I order the seven-course dry-aged duck set menu, which involves the glistening roasted fowl being paraded before me on a platter, before it’s sliced and served three ways, including in a pancake with hoi sin sauce. It’s followed by hot and sour soup, spicy tiger prawns and, naturally, fried rice, but my favourite dish is the steamed Patagonian toothfish, which looks so ethereally light and white it could be mistaken for lemon gelato.
Sommelier Jason Froman offers bespoke wine pairings to accompany the set menu, and acknowledges that T’ang Court, and the right proper Langham, might have some recalibrating to do in this environment.
“People turn up in their boardshorts and thongs,” he says. “We had one guy here yesterday, he’d been at nippers all day. But what can you do? We welcome everyone with open arms.”
Denise Cullen was a guest of Langham Hotels.