09/11/2022
Some places just have magic in their bones: the whiff of a vast Cire Trudon candle in the lobby; the gleam of 200-year-old oak banisters; or the hum from a perfectly low-lit bar, where a martini trolley is being wheeled from table to table. The Connaught is a place where the original lifts still creak elegantly, rain patters on the roof, and solid walls make it feel like, whatever troubles befall the world, all will be well within. The setting is just right, too: spotless Mount Street, with its mustard-bright awnings, high heels click-clacking on the pavement, and line of shiny black taxis with yellow lights winking. Removed from the traffic but pin-sharp in the heart of Mayfair’s thrills, it is first and foremost a cocooning retreat, enveloping and deeply comfortable. But there’s also a buzz in spaces such as the new Red Room, a sly speakeasy hidden beyond a velvet-curtained doorway, and a sense that things are happening in some nook somewhere. For all that it does elevated Michelin dining, there’s also a corner to dive into for a late-night hamburger and frites. Bathrooms are wall-to-wall marble; some beds, such as the carved four-poster in the Prince’s Lodge, are so high off the ground they need steps to climb into. Everything is immaculate, spoiling, and just so damn smart.
