Hazlitts

Hazlitt’s is the kind of place where any civilised person longs to be when they find themselves in another relentlessly efficient, colour co-ordinated chain hotel, all smiles and service and no soul. It has that charming air of being slightly worn without being shabby; comfortable, yet stylish, like an old dinner jacket that still fits after years of wear.

Occupying three 18th century houses, Hazlitt’s was formerly the nurses’ quarters for the adjacent hospital. Bought in 1986, they were converted into a home-from home for transient celebrities and dignitaries, as well as latter-day gentlemen of leisure, looking for somewhere quiet, discreet, and very, very English. It is how you imagine a gentlemen’s club to be - decorated in subdued greens and browns with squashy leather sofas.

The 23 light and airy bedrooms are perfectly proportioned and furnished with antique furniture. The beds are either four-posters or half-testers, or they have a solid panel back. The bathrooms seem almost as large as the bedrooms, and are so fabulous you may never want to come out. They all have claw-footed free-standing baths, and feature marble washstands, old fashioned pull-chain cisterns and tiled floors. Hazlitt’s is surrounded by some of the most stylish eateries in London. Breakfast, offering freshly baked croissants, can be served in bed if the cafes of Soho don’t tempt you out.

Hazlitt’s is popular with those in the know: a glassfronted bookcase acts as a kind of visitor’s book, as every guest with a book to his or her name adds a signed copy of the latest work to the collection, such as Vikram Seth, Susan Sontag, Michael Ondaatje, Marianne Faithful, Ted Hughes, Ben Okri and even Francis Ford Coppola. Whomever you meet in the hushed passageways, you know you are in good company - because they had the excellent taste to choose Hazlitt’s for their temporary home.

'It’s called Hazlitt’s because it was the home of the essayist, and all the bedrooms are named after his chums or women he shagged there'. Bill Bryson - Notes From A Small Island