All the comforts of home

Fancying a change from a hotel, Bev Fearis checked into a SACO Apartment for a night out in the capital.

According to the website, SACO’s Trinity Tower apartment is a five-minute walk from Canary Wharf Underground Station, which is probably true – if you know where you’re going. I’ve never got to grips with this part of London and although I had printed off a map and managed to head off in the right direction from the tube exit, once I’d got across the South Quay Footbridge I was flummoxed.

After questioning two helpful passers-by, a construction site foreman, a teenager in a hoodie and the reception staff at two office blocks, I finally spotted the SACO sign on a glass entrance way, tucked in a corner within a cluster of high rises. As other reviews on TripAdvisor suggest, a sign on a lamppost would be useful.

Once inside, the two friendly reception staff bent over backwards to get me settled in. By this time, I only had 45 minutes to catch up with emails and change for a black tie do (the British Travel Awards in Battersea Park) and I think they could sense my mild panic. I had to fill in a short form and was then given my own personal wi-fi code, before the receptionist kindly booked me a taxi.

My apartment was on the 12th floor, which meant it benefited from the heat from all of the apartments underneath. It was hot, too hot, and the first thing I did was turn down the temperature control. I later found out that the only way to cool the place down is to turn off the radiators, but even then it remained hot. Opening the windows let in a bit of breeze, but also let in a lot of London noise, so I ended up checking my emails in my undies (with the blinds closed, of course!).

One whole side of the apartment, running along the living room and the bedroom, is floor to ceiling glass, so you need the blinds. Although I was 12 floors up, so too are the neighbouring buildings, so it’s easy to spy on your neighbours and for them to spy on you.

The apartment was nicely laid out, with a large hallway, decent sized bathroom, bedroom and an open plan living room and kitchen. Everything is decorated in neutral, inoffensive colours with a few choice pieces of art work on the walls and the odd sculpture.

The dining table became my desk and meant I could literally lean back from my laptop and switch on the kettle. A welcome pack includes a few tea bags, coffee, hot chocolate, a bottle of UHT milk, two small bottles of water, a packet of biscuits and two small boxes of cereals. There’s a Tesco Metro just across the road for anything else.

Under the kitchen sink I also found dishwasher tablets, washing machine tablets, washing up liquid and cloths. Apparently these get replaced weekly when the cleaner comes, along with towels, bed linen and tea towels. A welcome booklet pointed out that the cleaner is NOT responsible for washing up. It’s also got very detailed instructions for all the gadgets, even with a map of how to load the dishwasher (cups go here, small plates, here, large plates here).

Nice little touches included a SACO menu card with suggestions from the company’s staff – a simple salad from receptionist at Bristol and a more adventurous herb crusted lamb from an account manager at head office. If I had been staying longer, though, I’d more likely be making my way through the large directory of nearby restaurants and take-aways, of which Canary Wharf has more than enough.

My taxi arrived late, but so was I so it didn’t matter. Cars can’t pull up right outside the apartment entrance, so I had to walk around the corner, in my heels, to meet the driver at the Tesco supermarket. Luckily a colleague shared a taxi back, so I didn’t feel too vulnerable when I did the same walk later, a little bit worse for wear, at 1am.

I slept soundly in my enormous bed with crisp clean sheets and black out blinds. When the alarm went off it was still pitch black and I thought I’d set it wrong. Unfortunately not. After a quick shower, I nipped across to the Tesco for a croissant, fresh from the oven, and ate it at my dining table desk with a nice cuppa, looking out across the high rises to the river beyond. I was getting quite attached to my Canary Wharf pad, but it was time to go. Now I just had to remember my way back to the tube station…