The Ampersand Hotel

The Ampersand, a whimsical South Kensington hotel with a name to match, is so unabashedly, eccentrically British that it would risk self-parody if it weren’t so dashingly pulled together. Housed in an 1888 townhouse, the hotel takes the Victorian taste for eclecticism — curiosities and objets d’art abound — and gives it a thoroughly modern look. It’s a fitting style for a neighborhood whose shops run from indie boutiques to Stella McCartney to Harrods, and whose cultural institutions contain everything from the classic collections of the Victoria & Albert Museum to the irreverent pop-culture photography of the Proud Gallery.

The influence of the neighborhood is clearly on display in the 111 rooms and suites, each in one of five themes: botany, music, geometry, ornithology and astronomy. Entry-level double rooms are small, though generous in other ways: lavish velvet headboards on the beds, large LCD screens, complimentary wi-fi and soft drinks from the minibar, toiletries by L’Occitane. Superior and Deluxe rooms are a bit more spacious, but it’s really not until the Deluxe studios, with their king beds and separate sitting areas, that there’s room to entertain. Opt for a suite and you’ll definitely want to show it off: floor-to-ceiling windows with London skyline views, a fourth- or fifth-floor balcony among the building’s eaves, a kitchenette and a separate sitting room, if you can bring yourself back inside.

The atmosphere of The Drawing Rooms, which form the heart of the hotel, are similarly urbane, though hardly prim and proper. Afternoon tea, pastries on silver trays and coffee from a Victorian press may all sound old-fashioned, yet the presentation is anything but. Beneath the original brick cellar arches at the base of the hotel, Apero bar and restaurant brings to its space an equally fresh style, with white metro tiles, warm lighting and light Mediterranean-style food. It’s all evidence that, with enough care and a good eye, it’s still possible to create a hotel that’s quintessentially London — without slipping into Union Jack self-parody.