DESTINATION Honor Bar, London
INSPIRATION Talent manager Chris Huvane sends me in search of a destination so exclusive it may not even exist.
“Have you ever heard of the Honor Bar?” was one of the first things out of my mouth each time I met a new person in London. The answers I got were all over the map:
“Never heard of it. I don’t think that place exists.” It does exist.
“Oh yeah. It’s behind the Covent Garden Hotel lobby. Super chic and hot.” Nope. Not there and not really.
“Yes! It’s a secret underground spot. I’ve never been! Tell me how it is.” Not underground and not really a secret.
It became a great talking piece, this mythical, magical bar. And the more random the answers, the more curious I got. Chris Huvane, the former West Coast Editor of GQ, now a talent manager, who gave me the tip, is an instigator, often of mischief. And now he had instigated a tricky adventure for me around London.
After rereading Chris’s email, I first had to decipher if there was in fact an actual Covent Garden Hotel. I couldn’t trust a Londoner with any information at this point and that whole part of town was still an enigma. I’d sorted through Soho, Picadilly, and South Kensington, but somehow skirted Covent Garden every time.
Finally I hit the cobblestone streets on the tip of Soho, and, with the help of other walkers, spotted the gray-and-white-striped awning of the boutique hotel.
FROM Chris Huvane
TO Angie Banicki
subject Re: 30 before 30
You have to go to the “Honor Bar” at the Covent Garden Hotel in Lon- don. SO cool. In Rome, you must see the Spanish Steps. Take a day trip down to Florence and run around and shop...but you must see
Il Duomo, the most beautiful place in Europe if you ask me.
My eye caught on an empty, low-key bar to my right. I headed toward it, already knowing this was no honor bar but hoping the bartender could give me the truth. His head turned as he thought a moment, my anticipation rising. His eyebrows rose–
Then fell.
“Nope,” he said. “But try the hotel’s front desk. Maybe they can lead you in the right direction.”
After walking through the Covent Garden’s chic black doors, I walked straight to the check-in desk.
“Is there a bar here called the ‘Honor Bar’?”
The girl at the desk looked at me like I was a pesky insect in her brightly colored garden. “Mmm, no, I don’t really know what you’re talking about.”
Not willing to give up hope, I turned my attention to the chubby, pleasant-looking guy with glasses who was quietly tidying up next to her, pretending not to be interested.
“My friend Chris who works for GQ sent me all the way from Los Angeles to find the Honor Bar.”
The name drop seemed to help, because Mr. Chubs perked up right away and turned to the girl at the guest check-in.
“I’ll take care of it,” he said with a tone of gravity and seriousness, then turned to me.
“I’m Adam. Come with me. I’ll explain the thing to you. We don’t have an Honor Bar.”
“What? Then where are we going?” “What we have is the honesty bar. But it’s not really a bar. It’s within the hotel, a place where you get drinks.”
YOU ARE READING
30 Before 30
Non-Fiction30 Before 30. Thirty days in Europe. Thirty inspired moments of adventure to live it up before my 30th birthday. Just the idea of it gave me purpose. Here was a reminder that I could choose a new path, even if it was only for 30 days. A little backg...
