Maybourne

4 properties in our collection.

FV17.3/20avg. score

Maybourne

Claridge's

Claridge's earns its reputation more often than it coasts on it, which is not something you can say about every grande dame in this city. Guest after guest, over years of reviews, names actual staff members unprompted: a tea server bringing Nutella for a child's scones, a night manager sorting a billing mix-up at midnight, doormen who remember names after thirty years on the door. That kind of repetition, from strangers who never met each other, is the real case for this hotel — the service culture is what you're paying for, more than the Basil Ionides staircase or the Art Deco lobby everyone photographs. It isn't flawless, and recent reports (within the last year) flag the same lapses more than once: a guest blocked from their own room over a billing error the hotel had already botched, an early-arrival "priority list" promise broken in front of the person who was promised it, six staff re-making a bed nobody asked them to touch. These read as isolated rather than systemic, but they're recent enough to weigh. The spa pool is decorative, not for laps, which is fine if you know going in. And construction outside the main entrance is a real, current complaint, loud enough that several people steer friends to the Connaught on that basis alone, though guests inside consistently say the rooms themselves stay quiet. The Penthouse and Signature Suites, some by André Fu, are genuinely the top of what London offers at this size and price, though a few travellers find the newer suites read as generically international rather than distinctly London — a fair trade-off, not a flaw, depending on what you came for. Book it for the staff who still know your name and the tea in the Foyer; just expect scaffolding at the door for now.

Fat Favorite

Maybourne

The Berkeley

London, United Kingdom

Doorman after doorman turns up by name across these reviews, months apart, and that's the tell. Mohamed, David, Waleed, Sofie, Sergio, Ion, Austin and John are credited with the same pattern: crib setups produced without being asked, Kith and Kin baby supplies laid out for a one-year-old's birthday, a suite upgrade conjured on a fully booked heatwave weekend. The staff are why people keep rebooking, and almost nobody who's stayed disputes it. The Grolet patisserie and ABC Kitchens breakfast get treated as near-mandatory by guests who've done the rounds of every grand London hotel, and Knightsbridge puts Harrods, Hyde Park and the King's Road in walking distance in a way few competitors can match. The rest is less consistent. A May 2026 guest was handed a room smelling of marijuana with two small children in tow; a December 2025 report describes a falling-apart ceiling and a doorless shower and blames a general manager change for a noticeable dip since; another family found their pre-arranged flowers and welcome card never made it into the room at all. The rooftop pool is the most-repeated disappointment — shared with The Emory next door and sold as a signature amenity, it's routinely described as too crowded for families or flatly off-limits to kids during peak periods. High tea and the à la carte menus draw similar complaints, with a £36 club sandwich cited as out of step with what arrives. None of that unseats the case for staying. At four figures a night without breakfast, you're paying for the welcome and the location more than the pool or the tea trolley — and on those two, book it for the doormen and the walk to Harrods, not the rooftop.

Fat Favorite

Maybourne

The Connaught

London, United Kingdom

What you're actually paying for at The Connaught is the people, and it shows up unprompted, trip after trip: guests greeted by name on day two, upgraded to Elizabethan suites with peaked ceilings and four-poster beds, sent off with satsumas and a house Negroni. One guest mentioned a doorman with 42 years at the hotel — that kind of tenure is rare in London, and it changes how a place runs day to day. The martini trolley is the other reason people book: tableside customisation with the house gin and a choice of vermouths, and even guests wincing at £30-65 a drink call the ritual worth it. The driveway off the street, rare for Mayfair, is a genuinely unusual perk rather than a brochure line. The rooms are the catch. Entry-level rooms run small by London standards, and a couple of recent stays describe the base category as heavy and musty rather than atmospheric — that's partly a matter of taste on the dark-wood, old-world look generally, but the size is simply a fact at this price. The suites upstairs are a different property and worth pushing for if the budget stretches. A strong floral scent in the lobby comes up often enough to be real, and a couple of very recent reports describe front-desk staff turning guests away over minor things (a takeaway coffee cup, arriving eight minutes past a confirmed time) that sit oddly against everything else people say about the service here. Book it for the location, the bar, and service that still edges out Claridge's or Brown's nearby. Ask for a higher category if you can; the entry-level rooms are the one place this hotel undersells itself.

Fat Favorite

Maybourne

The Emory

London, United Kingdom

The Emory is Maybourne's one genuine departure from the Claridge's/Connaught script: Richard Rogers' glass box across from Hyde Park, 61 keys, all-suite, barely a lobby, sharing a spa and rooftop with The Berkeley next door. Rooms opened around £1,600 a night and the entry Courtyard Studios still sit near that, which buys floor-to-ceiling glass, a stocked-free minibar, a Cédric Grolet pastry on arrival, and Surrenne downstairs, which guest after guest independently calls one of the best spas in London (the Tracy Anderson studio and snow shower get named unprompted, over and over). The trade-off is real: this isn't a hotel that performs the same on night one as it does on night five. Guests who stay a week describe butlers who know them by day two and answer WhatsApp requests in minutes; guests passing through for a single night are the ones who hit a slow check-in, an unavailable manager, or a "suite" facing a neighbouring building with the curtains stuck shut. One long-stay guest made the point directly: the average here is excellent, but the hotel is small enough that one bad night at full occupancy skews the whole picture. The website oversells too, welcome champagne and unpacking service don't always show up, which reads less like malice than a two-year-old property still smoothing its edges. Book it for the design, the spa, and the quiet if you can give it three nights or more and shrug off an off moment. It isn't built for a single-night stopover with zero margin: for that, The Berkeley next door shares the same spa with a steadier front desk.