Civilisation in a sausage: River Restaurant at the Savoy reviewed

When the Tory party set itself on fire last week a restaurateur told me: ‘Don’t worry, Tanya, we’ll still be here when it’s over.’ She was wrapping a scotch egg as she said it, and it’s very true. There is a soothing continuity to restaurants: no matter what fresh hell, people need to eat. I will know civilisation has ended when I can’t get a sausage at the Savoy hotel.

People always say that the Savoy has the only slip-road in Britain on which people drive on the right. That is the least interesting thing about it.

It is, for instance, the only London hotel built as a dosshouse for people who like light opera (now musical theatre). The Savoy Theatre is still showing Pretty Woman, a musical that lies about the emotional state of sex workers in song.