Hotels -and restaurants- come and go in Bombay; the Natraj on Marine Drive, where my parents first met in 1964, and where as a child I’d go for delicious ice creams to Yankee Doodle, is now a gleaming Inter-Continental. Here’s hoping the President sticks around long after I’m gone. There will come a time when I’ll be too old to come to India – every trip takes me closer to the final trip – and it’s a sobering and melancholy feeling when I realise I will eventually have a final stay here.

I’ve been coming here since I was 7 .Weddings in the banqueting rooms were a laugh with other like-minded kids! We could run around with them for the duration that we were there…after we’d been introduced to the uncles and aunties, that is (Now that I think about it, The President’s staff must have had an inexhaustible supply of patience to deal with us!). My Mum really made an effort to get ready for these weddings. Do you have any idea how long it takes to put on a sari?! We, on the other hand got wound up over how long it was taking her! We felt we were missing out on crucial play time!

It’s been a family favourite for decades. My parents, especially my Dad, really liked Thai food at Thai Pavilion (Bombay’s first Thai restaurant, which is now 30 years old). And, he was partial to the pizzas at Trattoria but he would also complain about them. We never actually stayed here as a family and I only stayed for the first time around ten years ago but I can’t imagine staying anywhere else when I’m in Bombay…apart from home…which is a two minute walk away!

Cuffe Parade is a mostly residential, non-touristy area so you don’t get the kind of sleazy, hustling atmosphere that you usually do around the Taj Mahal Palace and Towers over at the Gateway of India and Colaba Causeway. We rarely see backpackers in Cuffe Parade, which is a relief! Backpackers and their need to score usually lower the tone of any area. Cuffe Parade has already had a ‘Shantaram’ (ok, he wasn’t really a backpacker but you know what I mean!), we don’t need another one, thanks.

A lot has changed since my first stay. The hotel has had at least one major refurbishment and the hospitality industry being what it is, many of the staff, from management (Mili Mukherjee, Karan Godhwani, Ashrafi Matcheswala and Kamlesh Trivedi) to food-and-beverage staff to concierges/bell boys have left. But, Carlton and Nayak are still at the Concierge’s desk and I know I can approach them with a request. Then again, I grew up in Bombay and I speak Hindi so I can pretty much get things done myself! Little Rajshree still works at Trattoria and she’s always happy to see me (and vice versa)! Hers is the smiling face you want to see at the entrance to Trattoria every morning. Chatty, perky Niraj has been transferred to In-room dining. I’m sure he’s taking good care of the guests in his new role.

The external construction on the metro station is now complete and the road diversions have been reversed. It’s quieter outside the hotel and traffic flows more freely. All in all, Cuffe Parade feels less claustrophobic and traffic-clogged now. But, Sassoon Dock and the Machimar Nagar are still just a short walk away so when catch comes in you can really smell it!

Check-in was efficiently carried out by the Duty Manager ,Yash. An efficient, professional and friendly DM inspires a sense of confidence in a guest and gets the stay off to a good start. He had his hands full, however, trying to check me in, getting me a welcome drink and dealing with a pushy youth who was part of some sycophantic media outlet. Some people in India just have no patience and even less discipline!

I liked the fact that check-in was in a separate alcove on the right. Unlike other hotels where you have to stand while checking in, the President offers seated check-in.

It was Independence Day the following day but the flag-waiving and displays of nationalism were kept to a minimum (there was a flag-raising ceremony on the lawn the following morning) in the lobby.

The bright lobby is basically a marbled,  air-conditioned oasis in a city wilting from the muggy August evening. The pianist was a pleasant surprise (there’s usually a musician playing a santoor or a sitar at lunchtime, either outside Trattoria or the Konkan Café. It’s a nice way to get one in the mood for lunch). I’m not sure if he took requests! There’s plenty of seating in the lobby; the combination of plump green and peach-coloured chairs, the large floral arrangement  at the front of the lobby and scent of jasmine emanating from it give you the impression that you’re walking through a super-sized, marble fruit bowl or garden! A nice contrast to the large, austere white marble pillars and dark marble encasing the elevator doors. I gather the lobby was designed by Swedish firm Studio Kin. It came as a surprise that such a renowned Indian brand would opt for a non-Indian designer.

At breakfast the following morning I noticed that the juice counter was now outside the actual restaurant, which is fine for guests dining at the rear of the lobby but couldn’t another counter have been put in to Trattoria? The carrot juice was a disappointment. It just didn’t taste fresh so I switched to masala tea, which perked me up. I needed to be perked up as I had only had a total of approximately 12 hours sleep over three nights and I needed to swim later that morning. The counter also offers chocolate and vanilla milkshake, orange juice and watermelon juice.

Foodies will be delighted by the selection, or as it should be known, a spread since the selection runs from one end of the restaurant to the entrance. There’s something for vegetarians, non-vegetarians and there are Indian and non-Indian dishes (most of the hotel’s guests are Indian so if you don’t like Indians and/or brown people stay the fuck away).

You do occasionally come across English cricket squads here, though. No, not the national squad, but the A team or development squad. I had a chat with Vikram Solanki, who was over with a development squad, at breakfast a few years ago. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I supported India! Otherwise, it’s rare to come across Brits here. The truth is, it’s just not affordable for them. This isn’t the India of the Raj, old boy. Going back to the food, there are  enough breads, cheeses and cookies to make a boulangerie envious. For those who miss Levantine cuisine, there are even mini pitas and hummus.

I went for my usual, masala cheese omelette and two slices of toast. The folded omelette, size notwithstanding (turns out it had more substance than the copy of ‘Business Traveler India’ I was flicking through with increasing derision!) had a teasing, golden plumpness, daring you to take a bite. I noticed that it had just the slightest hint of oil. If the omelette was a woman she would be a pert, curvy beach babe that knows she’s being watched and gets off on the attention.

How do they make this omelette? No other place in India makes it like Trattoria does (it’s usually on the greasy side in the north). I’ve always thought my Mum made the best eggs but Trattoria’s “MCO” takes the biscuit (or, should that be omelette?) Sorry Mummy! It was just the protein-rich (ok, yes, there were plenty of carbs, too! It’s hard to resist the croissants! But, hey, at least I refrained from tucking in to the cookies!) breakfast I needed. I felt pretty full. I have no idea how some of the guests have an omelette and a second course of parathas, puris, pav bhaji etc.,!

There are healthy options – freshly cut fruits (the grapes looked particularly succulent) and cereals – for those more disciplined than someone like me. Then again, if I’m swimming a shade under 1,300 metres in one go I can eat what I want! The quality of the food and service (friendly and efficient) make this an ideal place to take a lady the morning after, especially if you want to prolong your hook-up beyond a one-night stand. You can linger over a long breakfast as the M83-esque EDM plays, and the rain smacks against the large windows behind the bread counter, and get to know each other in the cold light of day (or, really, the cool embrace of Trattoria!).

I was pleasantly surprised to find out that although Eggs Benedict aren’t on the menu, the chefs can whip them up on request. Just like the omelette, they didn’t look like they’d be filling but they were. Turns out the Eggs Benedict come with a slice of cheese. Once again, India has taken a non-Indian dish and Indianised it…for the better. I’ve decided to switch between the MCO and EB for the duration of my stay! Although, it would be a shame not to try the fresh fruits at least once!

On a whim I decided to check out their French Toast, which came sprinkled with powdery sugar and maple syrup on the side. The presentation could have done with a side order of strawberries, they’re not that difficult to find in India. In fact, there was a noticeable lack of strawberries amongst the fruit offerings.

Trattoria is the largest of the three restaurants at The President so there’s plenty of seating but for a quiet breakfast it’s best to get here before 8am. Sadly, the large murals depicting rural Italy have been replaced by a mixture of wood panels and mirrors, giving the space a darker ambience, notwithstanding the well-lit buffet space and open kitchen. And, only the tables along the wall have good overhead lighting, essential for those who like to read as they dine. But the fading coppery, mustardy coloured cushions are looking a bit worse for wear.

There’s a spa; I’ve never used it but I have it on good authority from girlfriends that Jiva’s worth a visit. That’s right, my girlfriends got treated like princesses! There’s a salon (I don’t know if they do ‘Brazilians’! I suspect women of a certain age arrive in to Bombay waxed and vaxxed, ready for the heat!), compact gym (i.e. you’re going to have to limit your stretching) and a 15m pool. At 1.22ms, it’s not the deepest but it’s fine to catch up with your laps. I would request a pool view room if you want to keep an eye on it and make sure you don’t turn up when it’s crowded (given its size, it does feel crowded if there are more than a couple of people in there). There are no lanes so be prepared for boisterous kids to cut across the pool while you’re swimming!

It’s not heated so even on summer mornings there’s a quick chill to the touch but there was no such frisson-inducing coolness this morning as I dipped my feet to check. And, on Saturday morning the water was even more welcoming. I wasn’t even put off by the fact that there were already three other adults in the pool (surprising, considering it was just 9.20am). It’s as if the pool knew what I needed. If you’re comfortable in the water from the start you usually have a smoother swim. It basically has to feel like a liquid blanket around you and you have to both give in to it and work with it. That’s a  lot easier if the temperature is already perfect. But, this is August. The water’s definitely going to be cooler come winter. Here’s a tip for those cooler days, swim in the late afternoon, give the water time to warm up.

The pool comes in to its own at dusk; it’s lit but the area around the pool is dark and the more adventerous can get up to some…”acquatic naughtyness!” The early magenta dusk’s warmth, the cooling breezes (Cuffe Parade is built up but those breezes find you and man are they welcome!) and the underwater lights bringing out the blue on the  tiny (baby?) tiles all work to flick one’s ‘naughty switch’.

At 24sq m the entry-level (Deluxe) room is spacious enough for one person and cosy for two. A generous queen-sized bed means there’s plenty of room for a couple and snug fit for a family of two adults and two children. A sofa-bed/rollaway might be a real squeeze, however, if the children are over the age of 8. The Superior, Deluxe and Premium room are all the same size. They’re just priced differently depending on the floor they’re situated on and the view they offer.

There’s no tub in the bathroom but who has time for a bath these days? The shower is big enough for two adults so your night-time pool shenanigans can carry on in the shower! And, hey, if you get lucky you can see if you can get a third guest in to the shower! India is still pretty conservative; while the temples of Khajuraho might depict threesomes, they’re notoriously hard to pull off here and probably unlikely with an Indian woman (they’re not that liberated or experimental)! But, never say never, right? After all, you’re in the land of the Kama Sutra, where an ex porn-star, Sunny Leone, is now part of mainstream advertising!

Who knows how the night will unfold if your wife/girlfriend hits it off in the pool or gym with a high-powered, Alpha American female executive hustling for a deal and empowered by her sense of abandon and killer corporate instinct! Girly bonding leads to pre – dinner drinks in Wink, where the cocktails and confessions flow while you, the husband/boyfriend can’t believe your luck; the beats n’ bass make the girls dance in that unique way, swaying hips and lackadaisical waves…you just go with the flow and the flow, hopefully, will lead to your room… The President doesn’t have the stuffy pomp and history of her Taj sisters in Colaba, or the nouveau-riche designer outlets of the Oberoi at Nariman Point, and she’s all the sexier for it.

You weren’t expecting a conventional hotel review, were you? We don’t do conventional. We’re not ”Wandegraphic Traveler”!

My room faced the new metro station and the traffic junction joining GD Somani Rd and Captain Prakash Pethe Marg. Further out you can see the residential buildings of Colaba, with the creek as a backdrop. I often leave the curtains open so that I can view the sunrise while low-lying, grey monsoon clouds drift by. Dawn in Bombay is a time to observe the city shake off the humid night. There’s a brief respite before the heat and humidity return. The vegetable (sabzi-wallahs) sellers and bread-wallahs cycle in every day before the sapping heat and humidity take a firm grip. Soon enough the kids head off to school. Some taken by their parents, some in a school bus. And, the older ones grab a bus. I used to take the 138 to Churchagte. It’s still running. There’s even an air-conditioned version now.

Dawn winters are my favourite. I like the strong, chilly gusts. In a town that gets just a handful of cool-ish days, every gust is to be enjoyed. But in the monsoons I also like the dawn breeze from the Indian mainland bringing the heat of the plains to meet the winds from the Arabian Sea pregnant with the monsoon.

Apart from a print above the bed, the wheatish-coloured walls were bare. Some of the other rooms do have more artwork but, as this room was supposedly on a newly-renovated floor, I would have expected a room with more character, given the hotel’s history. l had to roll away one of the carpets by the bedside as it easily slipped on the wooden floor. It’s a potential health hazard, especially for elderly guests.

The hotel isn’t without its drawbacks. The two jewelers shops that have been here for years are still here. I’ve never actually seen anyone buy anything from them! And, the hotel desperately needs a bookshop. There used to be a small one here for many years, run by a pair of South Indian brothers. I used to love dropping in to check out the comics. In a parallel universe, I’d run a bookshop at The P! The jewelers shops should either be turned in to play areas for kids (the hotel promotes itself as family-friendly) or a bookshop. And, since the rooms aren’t large enough, maybe some space could be set aside on the pool floor for yoga and pilates?

What used to be known as ‘Sugar and Spice’ (the deli-cum-patisserie) is now called Qmin. There’s a good selection of sweet (pastries, cookies, chocolates) and savoury items…and coffee, of course but I’m always disappointed by the fact that they no longer offer the Hawaiian Chicken Salad. I used to eat tub loads of the stuff! But, like I said, Bombay doesn’t live in the past. I grabbed a veggie samosa and an egg puff (total Rs.548) for lunch. It’s what one would expect to pay in a five-star hotel. I tried their veg biryani bento box for lunch (the box, a can of Sprite and a tip came to just under Rs.1,000) on another day. It took me ages to finish the biryani! Qmin seemed popular with well-heeled 30something SoBo trophy wifies and MILFs in their tight jeans or linen trousers, stocking up on pricey snacks and sweets. For the most part it was a quiet lunch but it was ruined by a surly, bitchy, entitled customer who was unpleasant to the staff. As there’s just one till, you may have a long wait to get served if there are two or more people ahead of you.

The hotel may look the same on the outside but various changes have been introduced, especially during COVID. For example, pre-COVID you could get a number of daily broadsheets delivered but now you just get The Times of India and The Economic Times. And, instead of being delivered in a pouch like they were as recently as January, they’re just shoved behind the door handle. I didn’t see the point of having art on the lobby walls if there was no information about the artist.

I sneaked in to Wink with just half-an-hour of Happy Hour left. Apart from a group of colleagues celebrating a senior’s birthday, there was no one there. At first I thought it was lacking in atmosphere (the bar tender seemed lacking in enthusiasm and energy) but once the drinks started flowing, I stopped caring. There was an injection of energy once Vikram – he’s been working at Wink for years – came to the bar. Wink needs more Vikrams.

Four cocktails (a Black Russian, a White Russian, a Goatini and a Mirchitini – only Wink serves the last two) and a Chicken Mamallapuram came to about £40 (including a tip). The spicy Keralan dish was filling without adversely affecting the drinks, and vice versa. Wink’s menu is now quite extensive: they don’t have their own kitchen but they can get you dishes at the bar from the three restaurants at the hotel. So, you can literally mix Italian with Thai and Indian! The thing about Italian and Indian dishes is that they rapidly absorb alcohol so that by the time you settle the bill you’ve lost some of the buzz. Still, who wants to wake up with a hangover in this humidity, right?

The highlight of the evening for me was getting the young DJ, Aman, to play M83’s ‘Midnight City’ and ‘Method of Modern Love’ by Hall and Oates. I’ve lost track of the number of times I played that song on full volume(with the stereo system facing out towards the other buildings…sorry Cuffe Parade, y’all needed to be schooled!)at bed time when I was growing up. I’ve never heard that song at Wink and I thought it was high time. I’m heartened by the experience of meeting Aman. He refused to accept a drink and was quick to accept my requests. I hope the President keeps him on indefinitely.