Oxford is, I suppose, the sort of place for intellectual puzzles; for many
years the city itself was one. It attracted thousands of visitors. Yet two
decades ago, there were few places in the centre of the town where weary
travellers could rest their heads.
Oxford was not totally bereft of a decent room — there was the Randolph, an
imposing institution opposite the Ashmolean Museum and housing a rather
similar collection of antiquities. By the late 1980s, only the wealthiest
American could afford to stay there. In an attempt to attract a broader and
younger market, the hotel went through more restyles than David Beckham’s
hair. It never quite worked.
Anyone who could not afford the Randolph was obliged to try its sister hotel,
the Eastgate. This was fine but hardly fabulous. Somewhat belatedly, the
city has been transformed as a hotel centre. It started with the emergence
of a few boutique hotels, such as the enchanting Bath Place in 1987.
The revolution really began with the remodelling of the Old Parsonage Hotel in
the early 1990s, which instantly challenged the Randolph’s top-end
stranglehold. The owner then went for broke by spending a fortune on
converting an abandoned branch of Barclays Bank in the high street into the
stylish Old Bank Hotel, which opened in 1999.
Oxford’s hotel scene has thus bounced from virtual monopoly to vibrant market
in barely a decade. It has just taken one step further. Having seen hotels
in an old parsonage and old bank, it now has one in the old prison. The
Malmaison Oxford, the latest branch of the hip hotel chain that kicked off
the “boutique” craze in the UK, is an architectural triumph. Not merely the
shell but the cells of the prisons have been retained (though, mercifully,
three former cells, which together were home to nine prisoners, have been
knocked through to create a standard en suite room for two).
All the old landings and stairwells on the three main prison floors have been
maintained but guests are not allowed to use them because the Health and
Safety Executive has deemed them dangerous. They look beautiful, anyway.
A further 25 rooms have been built into a house of correction across the
former exercise yard. The visitors’ room has been remodelled as a vast room
for consuming tea, smoking cigars or playing pool. The wing that contained
the governor’s residence has become the nine most palatial residences.
The danger of opening a hotel in such a place is that it will feel, well,
“spooky”. It is certainly atmospheric and I am not sure that I would rush
for a berth on the old solitary-confinement wing, but the combination of
clever lighting and modern comforts makes it hard to imagine the grim lives
led here as late as 1997. There is a “display cell” that shows you what the
regime used to be like — one look would turn Attila the Hun into a prison
reformer. But on the whole the jail theme is more of a running joke than an
ethical burden.
That the Malmaison Oxford will be a roaring success is certain. It had
inevitable teething problems, having opened only this month, but an
experienced management team is plainly determined to smother customers in
comfort. The brasserie feels as if it has been established for far longer
than it has and features a short but appealing menu, with an emphasis on
steak.
With a launch room price of £110, the Malmaison undercuts the Old Bank
(although I cannot imagine that rate will last for long) and there is more
than enough trade to keep all these hotels busy. But whichever one takes
your fancy, one aspect of Oxford life remains unchanged. Come by bus or
train — the city is the worst place in which to drive this side of Calcutta.
Need to know: Malmaison Oxford (0845 3654247, www.malmaison.com
), where doubles start at £110 a night, room only.
