Checking in for a Brum do

May 17 2009 by Adam Jupp, Sunday Sun

ADAM JUPP travels to the Midlands for a weekend stay at two hotels in Birmingham.

ARRIVAL in a new city has the potential to throw up several embarrassing moments.

There are so many street names you can pronounce wrongly, dodgy pubs you can walk into inadvertently and so on.

When we pulled into New Street station, our lack of prior Brum knowledge led us to commit a faux pas, as we leapt into a taxi and told the driver we wanted to go to Malmaison.

I thought I detected a frown on his face, as he glanced back at the line of cabs behind him, probably having waited a couple of hours to get his next fare.

I could fully understand why when he completed the 90-second journey to our hotel for the night and dropped us off, before presumably returning to the back of the station queue.

I soon got over the guilt as we headed inside the hotel to check in. The Malmaison is situated in the Mailbox entertainment complex, on Birmingham’s Wharfside Street.

The building is a former Royal Mail sorting office, converted to house a range of luxury shops, including Harvey Nichols, and eateries.

We were shown up to our room, which had definite tardis-style qualities, complete with two double beds, a giant bathroom, dressing table, sofa and TV cabinet. The Malmaison itself boasts a gym and spa.

We headed out into the unknown once more - this time on foot rather than by taxi - and soon stumbled on Victoria Square, where locals were enjoying the sunshine.

After quizzing a couple of coppers, we were pointed in the direction of a stretch of wife-friendly pubs and managed to find them, just in time to join the post-work professional crowd.

Two hours and two (ish) drinks later, we headed back to get ourselves ready for dinner in the Malmaison brasserie.

The restaurant is located on the first floor of the hotel, next to the cocktail lounge dubbed the champagne bar of Birmingham.

The lounge is well-used by hotel guests and locals alike, who call in for a tipple at the start of their night. After all this drinking, we were absolutely starving and delighted when the host called out our names.

The mood I was in, there was simply no other option than the rib-eye steak, complete with homemade chips and a side of deep-fried zucchini.

Perfectly cooked medium rare, as ordered, my knife slid through it like a knife through, well, medium rare steak, and I think I set the world record for main course completion. I rounded the meal off with a selection of sorbets, which cleansed the palate perfectly, though the lemon one was so sour, it caused me to grimace.