Side by side The Chancery Rosewood London vs The Connaught

A suite here starts north of £1,000 a night, and most of what arrives for that money is genuinely special: Joseph Dirand's interiors turned a brutalist former US Embassy into something warm, with walnut, suede, and rare green marble in bathrooms big enough to actually use. The all-suite layout means even the entry-level Grosvenor junior suites run 570-plus square feet, which is enormous by London standards, and the building itself, with its rescued rooftop eagle and carved-out 18-metre basement spa, is worth the visit on its own.

Where it gets shakier is the follow-through. One couple ordered specific teas for afternoon tea and never got them, waiting through a flower tea substitute instead. Another guest watched the AC cycle on and off all night for no reason, with pipes banging every time a tap ran. A five-night stay saw the same pattern repeat daily until checkout, offset mostly by one standout staffer doing more than his job required. The individual service can be exceptional (a butler giving an unscripted private tour, a reception manager remembered by name weeks later) but the hotel doesn't yet run at that level consistently across every shift and outlet.

None of this should talk you out of booking, but go in clear-eyed: this suits someone who wants a striking, modern room and top-tier design over old-world formality, and who can shrug off the odd service stumble at a hotel still finding its rhythm a year after opening. If you want London's old guard doing everything by muscle memory, Claridge's or The Connaught will feel more polished on any given night. For the building, the suites, and Mayfair's best new rooftop bar, book the Chancery.

The Connaught costs what every Mayfair five-star costs now, and what you get for it is the martini trolley, three genuinely excellent bars, Helene Darroze upstairs, and a staff that tends to know your name by the second day. That last part isn't a stray compliment. It shows up constantly, from the doorman keeping a family's taxi orders straight at breakfast to a bar manager remembered by name for small touches. The Connaught Bar alone is worth crossing London for, trolley-side vermouth selection and all, even if you never book a room.

The rooms are where the argument gets more complicated. Some guests land in a newly redone junior suite with a four-poster bed and love it; others get an entry-level room they call small, dark, or in need of a refresh, and the renovation has clearly been rolling through floors unevenly. The lobby's heavy floral scent splits people cleanly — some find it part of the charm, others found it genuinely bothersome enough to book elsewhere. And there's a real, if occasional, crack in the service reputation: a guest turned away for carrying a takeaway coffee, another laughed at over a phone charger, a bar door slammed shut eight minutes past a confirmed closing time. None of that is the norm, but it's not nothing either.

Book it for the bar and the restaurants first, the rooms second — ask what's been renovated before you commit to a category. If bar seating matters to you, know the Connaught doesn't have any at the counter itself; solo drinkers who want to perch tend to end up at Claridge's or the Rosewood instead. For everyone else, this is still the Mayfair address people return to year after year for the martini alone.