Let the good times roll! The Wellesley Hotel is a boutique hotel that combines sophistication, luxury, and glamour. It references the spirit of liberation, the Roaring Twenties, and the pleasure-seeking Jazz Age. It reminded me of the time of The Great Gatsby with its jazz, nightcaps, and cigars along with the feathers and fans of the Art Deco days.
It opened a decade ago as part of the Marriott brand and one of the ‘Luxury Collection’ alongside its sister hotel The Langley in the British countryside. It overlooks Hyde Park and is close to Knightsbridge home to the famous stores of Harvey Nichols, and Harrods.
Originally it was the entrance to a subway station whose red-lined tiles remain as the façade of the hotel. This beautifully restored 1920s townhouse next became a restaurant famous for its jazz evenings.
What a welcome I received in true British style from the top-hatted doormen. I walked into a lobby finished in the finest Italian marble and the most dazzling of chandeliers. I knew instantly that I was in for something special. For I had stepped back in time to an age of 1920s elegance and romance, an age of flair and panache. The hotel is resplendent with etched mirrors, crystal chandeliers, polished marble, and gold brass.
Down the corridors to the guestrooms were consul tables with old-fashioned telephones and walls adorned with portraits of prominent matinée idols. The 36 bedrooms and suites have starting prices from $915. There’s even a penthouse that occupies the entire 6th and 7th floors. I stayed in the Charlie Chaplin suite (with others named after luminaries such as Josephine Baker, Louis Armstrong, and Ella Fitzgerald to summon up the spirit of the Jazz Age). My suite, with its fabulous view over the park, felt like a luxurious cabin on a cruise liner of old for such was the supreme comfort. Fresh orchids surrounded a semi-circular velvet couch. All was beautifully finished with gold brass décor and lacquered wood doors. The walls were adorned with black and white photos in gleaming silver frames. Even the curtains were electronically operated. My bathroom had luxurious marble from Carrera on the floor and walls, a walk-in shower, Asprey toiletries, and that rarity still, even in top London hotels, of a built-in television at the end of my standalone bath.
The Wellesley’s intimate Oval Restaurant had an Art Deco patterned floor resembling New York’s Chrysler Building. The mirrors on the walls gleamed playfully with prisms of light. From the Italian menu, confident in its selective offerings, I chose salmon and tuna tartare, avocado, soy sauce, and chili followed by sea bass with Mediterranean sauce, baby potatoes, capers, berries, and cherry tomatoes. I finished with tiramisu: that classic and indulgent Italian invention.
The elegant Crystal Bar has a small cigar terrace out front. Within are display cases containing whisky, cognac, and Armagnac in a collection, that included some extremely rare bottles. You can have a 1789 (Year of the Revolution) Cognac for over $8000 a glass or a double Macallam Anniversary Malt 50-year-old for just under $12,000 a glass.
The hotel also boasts Europe’s largest collection of cigars (400 odd) from its impressive humidor. There’s a map of Cuba on the marble floor and a portrait of Winston Churchill painted on tobacco leaves on the wall. Cigars can reach over $10,500 a time if you experience Cuba’s Cohiba 40th anniversary, which was made by Fidel Castro’s personal cigar roller.
The dimly lit Jazz Lounge hosts jazz nights from its small podium on a seasonal basis. It’s wonderfully plush with navy blue velvet banquettes and tub chairs. At the bar, an ornate drinks cabinet hangs over proceedings. And in the corner stands a shiny grand piano awaiting its ivories to be tickled. Some guests choose to jog in the park because it’s so accessible. I chose instead from my window to watch the 100-strong King’s cavalry parade past on their morning exercises.
This adult-orientated hotel is most popular with American and Middle Eastern guests. There’s even the option of a personal butler and a complimentary chauffeur to drop one anywhere local: perhaps to a theatre, Buckingham Palace, or Harrods. A century on and the good times continue to roll.
