By now you will be well aware of the fact that I am seldom lured from my salubrious surroundings. Ubiquitous annual jaunts to south of France, LA and the med notwithstanding, tearing myself away from The Safe House and the majesty of Cape Town is not an activity I enter into lightly. Hence a trip to the bright lights of Jozi generally makes me wince behind the handcrafted lenses of my Ferragamos.

Yet this week an irresistible business opportunity and a session with the Aston Martin top brass took me northwards. I naturally tapped my network to establish where I should be to ensure that my vibe was maintained. It is critical to source environs that I am used to, to ease the separation anxiety from the opulence and convenience of my primary residence, the 5-star Cape Royale. Enter the Westcliff Hotel, Johannesburg. Now we’re talking. Style like I’m used to. Style you should strive for and opulence we crave, especially in Jozi.

From the moment I saw the beaming Wonga at the arrivals hall at Jan Smuts, slickly decked out in his regal driver kit, I knew that everything would be okay. Slick. Look, the drive around Jozi is probably not ever going to be a person with any sort of aesthetic sensibility’s wet dream – but the gem that is Wonga made it more than passable. Sure, the new 5 series isn’t the Jaguar I am normally driven around in. But I’m fine with it. Rental cars in foreign cities are generally a shit-show and should be given the wide berth – where possible.

Cool, to the power of Wonga

Essential then for me to gather my thoughts, bask in pristine environs and rediscover the vibe after the commute from the sublime to the not-so-sublime. Imagine my unadulterated joy then, to enter the tranquil world of the Westcliff. You will appreciate that I am well qualified to comment on hotels. The Cape Royale raises the bar pretty high, but the grandeur, style and class of the Westcliff are certainly also up there with the very best.

Suitably refreshed and buoyed by the prospect of a post-meeting infinity-pool session, we hit Jozi hard. The only way I know how. Gordon Gecko would have approved of the clinical, ruthless efficiency which underlined the meetings. In, out and what seemed like minutes later the great Wonga swung the beemer into the oasis that is the Westcliff – perched very nicely on a hilltop overlooking Egoli. Never rush – that is one of the secrets I’m happy to impart. Hence my carefully staggered meetings allowed me plenty of time to savour the delights the hotel has to offer.

The heated pool with Polo Lounge above and my suite to the left

Shame – my private garden leading to the pool

So there I was. Post-meeting domination. Sunset, poolside, cocktail in hand, angels trying to make their repeated stares in my direction subtle (and failing dismally), attentive waiters on hand. Naturally donning the hotels reassuringly heavy white gown, and I thought, on reflection, that Jozi is pretty damn cool if you can immerse yourself in this vibe. In its own way. I also understood just why Westcliff is something of an institution. And why 2oceansvibe Character, The Wedding Singer, chose to drop to one knee in this venerable locale.

Tea in the ‘Polo Lounge’ – terribly civilised..

“Do you know how to make a 2oceansvibe cocktail?”

With Europe now shedding its winter jacket I must confess that at times being in the hotel environment did transport me back to stays in romantic hotels lingering above the Italian Riveria. With a bit of imagination I could quite easily have thought I was swirling a crisp Chianti on the terrace at the Splendido in Portfofino. But then a roar from a lion in the zoo below reminded me that I was still on the Dark Continent. Or maybe the Jameson’s were kicking in. Anyway, I digress.

The views from the manicured lawns and perfectly perched infinity pool are seriously impressive and I was pretty blown away by the vistas over the Joburg Zoo from the pool terrace. So much so that I remarked the Joburg must surely be one of the largest, if not the largest, man-made forest on earth….. Indeed. Wiki it if you must. That’s what I’m here for – informing and keep you abreast of the trivia you should know. Like the fact that Jozi has a higher annual rainfall than London. No spice. Yes, please – go check.

Shame – sorry for you..

But what isn’t trivial is the level of service and quality of scenes at the Westcliff. Drinks, world class dinner overlooking the pool, more drinks. Fine. The beauty of staying at a place like this is the utter joy of indulging in the things which the Jozi heavy hitters who are there for drinks aren’t able to. Nothing better than swanning around in your toweling gown, much like Jack Nicholson would do on St Tropez yet. Because he can. While those there just for drinks or supper look on with the envy which is impossible to repress.

It is rare that I actually get vaguely excited about going to bed alone. Yes, that might sound borderline strange. But when you are positioned to the best suite in the house and your bed is bigger than most pools on the Radlantic you get my point. So a properly productive day, all conducted in the style and vibe I’ve grown accustomed to was complete.

The ever-attentative Dingani and co in their Polo Lounge outfits

Day 2 of the Jozi excursion couldn’t have been kicked off in more perfect fashion. I’m growing quite fond of egg white omelets with feta, ham and rocket. So a ridiculously sumptuous brekkie and a leisurely stroll around the perfectly manicured grounds and a few lengths of the (heated) pool was pretty much perfect. Weird to be in Joburg but in European vibes – but this could be the start of a new love affair.

The ever faithful Wonga delivered us safely to the airport and I must admit to being strangely nostalgic about leaving Jozi this time. It couldn’t have been run with greater precision if a Swiss outfit had arranged my itinerary. Great vibe.

Using my iPhone and my Photostich app, I made a stunning little panorama of the pool deck, overlooking Johannesburg.

Give it a click – you’ll enjoy it.

Click image for seriously impressive panorama pic

Nothing wrong with that, hey?

So as I watch the sun slip into the Atlantic my faith in Jozi has been restored. Slightly envious of those who get to spend more time in the Westcliff – but I’ll be back, for sure. Jozi may well need me.

Until next time.