Some hotel brands can be rolled out wherever. There are Hoxtons all over the world now, taking the name of a London neighbourhood once aligned with Nineties subculture to New York, Berlin, Brussels and beyond. Wherever there’s a market for people who want nice sofas on which they can hover over their laptops all day and then drink pisco sours at night.
But then there’s the Zetter, which first surfaced in 2004 in Clerkenwell among a boom of boutique hotels and which recently opened its third hotel in Bloomsbury. The Zetter feels more site specific. More inherently London.
There’s something genteel and antique about the Zetters. It’s an American’s fantasy of what a central London boutique hotel should be. When the Marylebone branch opened in 2015, interior designer Russell Sage had filled it with 10,000 antiques. It’s all about character. Which is what the new Bloomsbury hotel has. But while the Zetters share a similar ambience – suggesting the kind of rooms in which Lillie Langtry and Oscar Wilde would have been at home – they are individual characters in a broader story.
The new hotel is very Bloomsbury. It breathes the same air as Café Deco, the London Review Bookshop and its freshly baked St John doughnuts, and the lawns of Bedford Square, to which only locals with a key, who pay an annual fee, can gain access. It would have been predictable to go for a full-on retro Bloomsbury Group interior here.
Instead, interior designer James Thurstan Waterworth has looked to the sticky fingers of the British Museum for inspiration. There are African textiles and artworks, Turkish rugs and more.
There were things I loved about my room, things I did not – a free-standing bath next to the bed is cliché but I still find it sexy; however the chair by the desk was a torture device before I customised it with cushions. My four-poster bed was covered with swathes of rough linen, while wall coverings are in a navy fabric.
This is a place that’s big on texture – the walls in the lifts are lined with what looks like fine Thai gold silk. Overall, the colour scheme is muted and serious, but with bright striped accents. It’s part Victorian library, part cocktail bar.
When I stayed at the Zetter Bloomsbury I spent most of the evening in the Parlour, meeting a succession of friends for drinks, and later having a surprisingly good burger. I bumped into people I hadn’t seen for ages. Even though that suggests it’s a scene, it hasn’t been engineered that way. The in-crowd is curious right now.
The place has an odd layout, owing in part to it being formed from a row of six original townhouses. There’s no reception as such and the Parlour is just a hallway and a tiny bar; both have an arrangement of seats that is awkward. If you’re in a couple you both face out as if on to an imaginary boulevard.
The Orangery in the back of the building is a gorgeous room with skylights and great views out to the garden, but open only for breakfast and afternoon tea. Bonus points for having Verden D’Orangerie hand wash in the toilets. I love such details.
Considering the small evening menu in the Parlour (there’s that burger with chips, a sausage roll, Scotch egg, fish finger sandwich, and a crab and smoked salmon crumpet), the group decided not to compete with any notable restaurants in the area and be a good hotel. Smart. But one wonders what could be done if more use was made of the back garden, which really won’t generate revenue in the winter. Great for rosé in summer, less so in the snow. Perhaps a tent, like the one in the gardens of the Chelsea Arts Club, could be just the ticket.
One of the things I liked most about the Zetter Bloomsbury was the terrace outside my bedroom. Even though it was shared with neighbouring rooms, it’s a privilege to be able to see local life from this perspective. As well as some hotels that haven’t been tarted up yet, people live here. It’s a Richard Curtis fantasy of life in central London. And it’s also going to be a great place for parties in the evening when the weather holds up.
This hotel doesn’t want to be any kind of urban resort. It’s chic and discreet. There’s a small gym, but the real recreation here is being in situ. It’s a glorious place to base yourself for work or a weekend of sightseeing and basking in all things Bloomsbury.
This is one of my favourite parts of the city. For years it was ignored and left to tourists pouring out of the British Museum. While I find the flow between rooms a little weird, the Zetter Bloomsbury makes one feel calm and at home. It’s the hotel equivalent of sitting in with a glass of sherry and a literary classic (first edition, signed). In a city that’s as frantic as London, it’s unique.
Doubles from £244, including breakfast. There are several adapted rooms but the main entrance isn’t wheelchair accessible.
The Zetter Bloomsbury, 2-7 Montague Street, London WC1B 5BP (020 7324 4488).