Alex Langsam’s holiday empire is shrouded in secrecy
Scarborough’s Grand Hotel isn’t so grand these days. Built in the shape of a V to honour Queen Victoria, this sandy-brick behemoth was billed as “the largest and handsomest hotel in Europe” when its doors opened in 1867. Edward VIII stayed here before ascending the throne. Sir Winston Churchill, the poet Edith Sitwell and Labour’s first prime minister, Ramsay MacDonald, were among the A-listers of yesteryear to visit this 12-floor wonder overlooking the North Sea.
When I arrive for my night at the Grand, my first impression is of the screeching seagulls and weeds that have been allowed to colonise the elegant roof with its four domed towers. Broken eggshells and droppings now pepper the walkways surrounding this once opulent building. A sign on a railing commands passers-by to “stop attacks” by not feeding the birds. Nearby, a dozen refuse bins and a cluster of tradesmen’s vans obscure the still striking entrance.
