Now that humans travel at 600 mph and news travels in milliseconds, is it any wonder we find ourselves looking lovingly back to the less electronically-mediated adventures of the likes of Phileas T. Fogg? Mr. Fogg’s, an archly hip new Mayfair watering hole (Pippa Middleton and Princess Eugenie have already warmed its couches) indeed nicks its name from the larger-than-life protagonist of Jules Verne’s 1873 classic Around The World In 80 Days–and is correspondingly done up like his international-curiosity-filled drawing room.
For those grown intolerable of all that troublingly earnest and desperately over-flogged Prohibition chic, Mr. Fogg’s is a glorious riot of Victorian camp (it is Blighty, after all). Staff are decked in 19th Century inspired military uniforms by Gieves & Hawkes, and the doorman even pretends he’s Fogg’s valet Passerpartout (at least while he’s waiting for his big West End break). Scattered amongst the bric-a-brac are are old maps, stuffed Indian tigers and crocodiles and a portrait of the prim Queen Vic herself. A period cocktail selection–absinthe aperitifs, gin fizzes, grogs, stirrup cups, pousse cafés–is served fireside in red indian’s heads and antique punch bowls. Best of all, a piano is on hand should tipplers be tempted to knock out a rousing version of "Daisy Bell".