Love at Mr Fogg's Botanical Tavern

Stepping into Mr Fogg’s Botanical Tavern feels like wandering into a secret world - a place where time slows, and romance blooms in the most unexpected corners. As soon as the heavy wooden doors swing shut behind you, the outside world melts away, replaced by the rich scent of citrus, herbs, and polished oak. Overhead, vines spill from shelves, curling their way around glowing lanterns, casting a dappled golden light that makes everyone look just a little more enchanting.

On Valentine’s night, the space hums with a kind of hushed anticipation. The chatter is warm, intimate, as couples settle into their candlelit corners, hands brushing over embossed menus. There’s something about the way Mr Fogg’s layers its décor - the deep, earthy wood, the lush greenery, the old-world trinkets perched on every available surface - that makes it feel both indulgent and effortlessly inviting. It’s a world apart from the slick, chrome-edged bars of the city; here, romance feels tangible, woven into the very fabric of the space.

The evening unfolds in sips and glances, each cocktail a little work of art. Their Valentine’s menu takes inspiration from love languages, and whether you prefer the crisp, berry-kissed embrace of an English Strawberry & Black Cow Vodka concoction or something more herbaceous and unexpected, there’s a drink that speaks your name. Ice clinks in heavy-cut glassware, and as the first sip washes over your tongue, you realize this is what makes Mr Fogg’s so special - the way it engages every sense, drawing you into its heady, intoxicating spell.

Upstairs, past a spiralling staircase entwined with wisteria, the Treehouse offers a secluded haven draped in soft lilac and woodland pinks. It feels like a place stolen from a dream—where the ceiling is a canopy of leaves and love notes are whispered between the beams. Whether it’s your first Valentine’s together or your fifteenth, there’s something timeless about being here, wrapped in the glow of flickering candlelight, tasting the evening one sip at a time.

Some places try to manufacture romance, but Mr Fogg’s simply lets it exist, unfurling naturally like a vine reaching for the sun. It’s the kind of place that lingers in your memory long after you leave—the laughter, the clink of glasses, the delicate hint of citrus and spice that seems to follow you out into the night. And as you step back into the city’s cold air, hand in hand, you’ll know you’ve been somewhere special.