The Beaumont Hotel, London - hotel review

1/11

Off the congested main drags, Mayfair is hushed, calm, still; step inside The Beaumont’s lobby and the last of the city’s chatter is muffled entirely. Staff in natty uniforms pad across the monochrome checkered floor silently - even the gold luggage trolleys barely squeak.

In other words, if it’s an oasis in (very) central London you’re looking for, set your (Uber’s) coordinates to Brown Hart Gardens. The Beaumont - an Art Deco building, with 50 rooms and 23 suites and studios, modelled on the stately hotels of the 1920s - manages to feel both grand and luxurious, and private and intimate. Perhaps it’s those walnut panels everywhere: an old world touch which invite whispered conversations and conspiratorial glances.

Our Premier room was stylishly well-appointed, with mod-cons like the customary Nespresso machine, as well as quirky flourishes like Beaumont-issue playing cards, and a beautiful hard copy of Letters of Note on the nightstand. The best room was the bathroom - isn’t it always? - and its deep, marble bath, in which you’ll easily lose an hour (longer if you take a bottle of wine in with you).

Though do leave the room, at least for a few hours. The small-but-perfectly-formed spa runs with the Art Deco theme, with sharp lines and pristine white tiles. Try stretching out on the heated marble table for a relaxing - really - hammam treatment, which will leave skin as soft (and pink) as a baby’s. There’s also a compact gym and an efficient salon.

The Art Deco spa (The Beaumont Hotel)

Upstairs, more fun in the form of the Colony Grill Room - which feels like the sort of upmarket, clubby New York restaurant, where you’d hear movie execs cutting a deal (in fact, we did: their honeyed LA vowels just audible from our cosy banquette a few tables away). The menu is of that era: clam chowder, meat loaf, a classic caesar salad, simple dishes elegantly executed. Dessert is Americana kitsch: cheesecake, knickerbocker glory, a made-to-order club sundae.

Then withdraw to the low-lit, walnut-panelled Magritte Bar, where sultry jazz croons on a loop in the background, for a stiff Martini with a twist, and a bowl of salted nuts. Elegant portraits hang from the wall, and there’s a bookshelf stacked with Hemingway and Fitzgerald.

You’ll sleep gloriously in the hush, not to mention the palatial beds blanketed in crisp white hotel sheets, then it’s back onto Mayfair’s manicured streets, feeling like you’ve returned - suddenly - to 2020 from 1920.

Where? 8 Balderton St, Brown Hart Gardens, Mayfair, London W1K 6TF

Price: Doubles from £490