The Silver Sturgeon London Review
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The loud, young Americans stood to left on the escalator: you’re great. The chancer pigeon striding among the many feet of Embankment station just to peck a grain of dirt: we love you. The grey-on-grey, outdated modernism of the South Bank: what a sight to behold you are. We haven’t even arrived yet and already that familiar “ain’t London great” feeling is lending the day a special kind of cockle-warmth.
And then we embark.
Now we’ve gone from ‘Ahhhhh’ to ‘Woo-hoo-hoo’ in a matter of seconds. This is swanky, Veuve Clicquot swanky. A cordial greeting and suddenly there’s a bubbling glass of you’ll-never-guess-what in my hand. We’ve entered a subdued yet modern holding area at the rear of the Silver Sturgeon, like a floating airport lounge. In the centre of the room, business mingles in suited groups, seemingly nonplussed by the romance of the vista. Special occasioners take on the role instead, clinging to the leather window booths as though this is their last sight of Earth before beaming up to the Mothership.
Those things we love about London are all but forgotten in the few moments we have transcended and this carefree capsule becomes even more gratifying when nimble, Veuve-orange aprons approach bearing canapés of quail egg and lobster, immaculately presented on flamboyant silver platters which defy any logical form of economy.
As the delicious yolk bursts, I notice the Gherkin and St Paul’s, looking even more majestic from our buoyant position. I glance back at the pretty bubbles in my glass and then at a passing NatWest clipper, filled with shivering passengers trussed up in life jackets, enduring a rugged river breeze. Man, life is good!
Following a pre-recorded safety announcement that almost massages my innards it’s so posh, we push off and shoot towards Big Ben at a speed Mr Sulu knows only as ‘drifting’. At Westminster, an about turn points the Sturgeon towards Greenwich and everyone is ushered through to the fore for lunch.
It’s large and open. There’s an abundance of large and open. So much so, one might be inclined to suggest that the occasion and space would be perfectly suited to a musical interlude - jazz or opera, perhaps - providing the cherry on an otherwise faultless cake. But then, getting a grand piano through the gills of this Sturgeon would be about as easy as forcing a trombone into a badger.
The wine arrives. It’s a simple choice between red or white. Put faith in your sommelier. Phew, the rich, unoaked Côtes du Rhône Chardonnay befits the muted ambiance! Everybody return to your relaxation. Menu option limitations mean we must likewise trust the chefs.
At the Tate Modern we enjoy breads, beautifully presented in more ornate silver nonsense. At the Tower of London we welcome a quail egg and truffle mash amuse bouche. The smoked salmon with edible flowers arrives just as Canary Wharf peeps through the window and the sky is now a vibrant blue. Nice of them to arrange it.
Just before the poseidon O2 rises up out of the water, we engage in conversation about low-rise warehouse wharf apartment prices. It compliments our main of duck - Gressingham, naturally - with apple puree swoosh. Our comments about the spinach are favourable, but we’re indifferent about the spring vegetables.
We about turn for home and Canary Wharf reappears, just as the earthy rhubarb dessert is served, itself punctuated by a frankly superfluous bowl of petit fours. Gah, it’s good to be alive!
The wine ebbs and flows like the river, thank goodness it’s Friday afternoon. The Colleagues, 5 or 6 glasses down, are noticeably more vocal. Some have started texting, and even making calls. What’s more distracting than London floating by outside?!
Under the Millennium Bridge, The Lovers on table 26 have a giggle. She’s spilled red wine all over the white tablecloth. That’s a moment they’ll cherish forever.
Docking, we mention how 3 hours has seemed to just skip by. But then we realise we’ve seen Big Ben, Westminster, the London Eye, Tate Modern, Shakespeare’s Globe, St Paul’s, the Tower of London, Canary Wharf, and the O2 in one very enjoyable afternoon. Well worth the asking price of just shy of £100, especially if (a) it’s summer and the sun deck is in full use, (b) the glass is constantly full, and (c) you believe in the chefs and sommelier.
I disembark and instantly return to an alternate special London moment. Cranes dotted across the skyline: hoorah for you. Half drowned shopping trolley semi-submerged in the Thames: keep up the good work. Death wish cab driver surging along Victoria Embankment: it’s good to have you narrowly missing me again.
Christian Rose-Day (02 03 2010)
The Silver Sturgeon London Description
The Silver Fleet is comprised of three gorgeous, design-led ‘river yachts’ for private charter within London’s historic heart, the River Thames. The interior of the Silver Sturgeon is decorated in warm cream and natural woods, adding to a mellow, relaxed ambience, with curved booth seating and a solid oak dance floor. The open air teak deck has a spectacular glass roof and a champagne bar. Cruises depart from the Savoy Pier, just south of the legendary Savoy Hotel in central London.
Customer Reviews for The Silver Sturgeon
The following customer reviews are not endorsed by Fluid London and are simply those of users who wish to publish their independent experiences of The Silver Sturgeon.
“This would make a great present for someone special. I took a loved one on this river cruise and we felt like we were millionaires the whole afternoon. Amazing food, in plentiful amounts, fantastic views of nearly all of London's sites, as much champagne and wine as you'd ever need on a Friday afternoon, and a complete overall sense of well-being by the end.”
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Leigh, Tooting (4 months 29 days ago)
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