Langham Gold Coast, QLD
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Written by Katarina Cobain

Langham Gold Coast wrapped me in its five-star glamorous embrace for an afternoon, a night and a morning breakfast experience.

The mission? To vegetate. I was here to rest, sleep, and just be. To avoid people contact and immerse myself for one night in the Langham Gold Coast world. But after 20 years in the hotel world, I get into auto pilot and notice the atmosphere, the flow of people and the mood of the spaces.

The three towers of the hotel soar into the sky well above all the other infamous Gold Coast high rises. But their shard-like shapes make them very different: they are bright, shimmery and cheeky, almost flirting with the other tall buildings around them. The sharp, angled windows are framed in large, white pipes and each structure reflects the surrounding land, the ocean, sky and streaming sun on the street and the water in a never-ending loop.  The towers defy the Coral Sea, the ever moving energy of the wind, ocean currents, low and high tides, salty air, cloudy and clear skies. They are a perfect example of humans’ urge to control, do what they want, where they want it, against all odds. This energy and boldness coming off the towers seeps into the environment, holding it, from the ground up, into the atmosphere.
Inside the futuristic, minimalist lobby lit by the high, cathedral windows the check-in experience was oddly calming.

Although I just wanted to finish reading Helen Garner’s poignant, gripping story, "This House of Grief", the view of the ocean from the bedroom the view drew me. The blue, soft light gleams off the water, lulling you into a dream world. I look down at the softly curved hotel pool, decorated with mini leaf-shaped decks, where islands of sunbaking lounges whisper to me. I picture myself looking down from the glassed terrace on one of the wide, thick-cushioned lounges, perfectly positioned on the mini, private, leaf-shaped decks.

Once down on the ground level, I pass the “second lobby”, go through the outdoor walkway along a glass half-wall that wraps itself around the pretty pool, and exit through a glass door. I find myself by the pool’s edge. I am looking for the perfect reading spot. I scan the space. An internal alarm sounds: there are kids on that side, so stay from there. And there are only a few people swimming. It must be too cold for the majority to venture in the water, wet their bodies and maybe even their hair, and then deal with the dire consequences of getting out into the sea breeze relentlessly powering through from that broad beach.

I am aware of the others’ eyes on me, of them thinking, “A newcomer”. Most of us are well honed at the art of pool observation, of inconspicuously checking others, though some are openly rude and simply stare.

Unless I am lost in the book or the phone world I love this people watching business and willingly participate in it. In fact, this is one of the best things about the pool time, of watching people and eavesdropping. But then, are they watching you? Are they criticising? Are they pretending that they are as comfortable as everyone else by the pool? Maybe they are not pretending. Maybe they are genuinely having good time by the pool, blasted by the relentless wind.

Nope, this is not the spot for me or my book.

I walk along the pool deck towards the beach and the bar. But this section is in the deep shade of the tall tower and the one perfect lounge chair still in the sun is occupied by a tanned, blonde, young woman. I imagine pushing her off and taking the spot but settle for telepathically willing the hot female body to get up of her own accord and leave the lounge to me. Surprisingly, this technique has worked for me in the past, at other pools. But there was no such luck today. Then I had to exchange some small talk with her, otherwise I would be a weirdo woman staring at a younger woman in a G-string bikini.

“Looks like you’ve got the best seat in the house,” I said.

She laughed and, frustrated, I glanced over towards the other side of the pool, where a group of suits was having an afternoon tea behind the glass half-wall. It occurred to me how odd it was to see this group of corporates on one side watching all these people around the pool in their bikinis. Two separate groups colliding in one space, divided by the pool, blasted by the wind.

I decided to try my luck by the indoor, heated pool, Located on the same floor as spa and gym. I took the lifts to the mezzanine floor, overlooking the lobby and the Palm Court.  This is a very pretty, girly space, a pink macaroon dining area set for the famous Langham afternoon tea. It was packed. Every table had a group of people enjoying the afternoon tea tower of goodies. What particularly struck me was this beautiful 19 year-old girl dressed in a whimsical white dress, with bows in her hair. She was enjoying the dainty tea treats and sharing them with her pink teddy. She was taking selfies of the teddy and herself and very busy.

I continued walking along the stark, empty walkway. The textured walls and a sculptured vase signalled that I was about to enter a quiet zone housing the luxurious spa, gym and pool. The gym is huge, and because the high floor to ceiling windows it feels that you are hanging over the blue ocean. On the opposite side of the gym is the indoor pool. It is a long, masculine space, nestled under the angled windows and white building pipes. Above is a ceiling panelled in light wood with a light sculpture imitating the signature Langham diamond lines. These are reflected in the pool below, creating a sensual and soft space. On this afternoon it was a silent space, with nobody around and one lounge chair still in the sun waiting for me. Oh, peace and quiet.

I was here for an hour or so, lounging and reading, until a young couple arrived with a little, round, cute girl. One toddler is all it took to turn the space into noisy, splashy, screechy, crying, laughing zone.

Since I had such a large dinner last night I didn’t feel like fine dining experience at the famous T’Ang Court serving Cantonese cuisine. However, the next morning I had a leisurely breakfast in the Akoya, situated on the ground floor. It has a wide terrace next to the beach walkway, overlooking the wide ocean beach. The buffet was deliciously displayed, tempting you with the colour and shape of yummy breakfast food. There were all sorts of fruits on offer, yogurts, granolas and bircher mixtures, plus hot food, and heavenly pastries, pancakes, waffles, honey oozing from honeycomb, every jam and marmalade flavour you could imagine and any type of hot and cold beverage your heart might desire. Nevertheless, I managed to stay in control, ordering my soy flat white and having some eggs with vegies and a small pastry to finish off.

Revitalised, I checked out and nodded goodbye to this luxurious new Gold Coast hotel, promising myself to be back soon.