Claridge's

Claridge’s is by any lights one of the best hotels in London, and it’s almost certainly the poshest. Even today, this Mayfair landmark — where the crowned heads of Europe came to wait out the Second World War — remains splendidly and timelessly Art Deco. Stroll past the black awning into an entry foyer with Lalique vases, gilded columns, a sweeping staircase ornamented with brass banister that is polished daily. The elevators are manually operated — not by the guests, either — and each contains a sofa for lounging.

Rooms are a compliment to anyone who is tasteful enough to book them. Queen Victoria and the Empress Eugenie were fans, as is Anna Wintour, who stays here during each Fashion Week, and Queen Elizabeth, who lunched in the royal suite once a year. Some prefer the Deco rooms, others the more traditional English country house ones, still others the ones designed top to bottom by Diane von Furstenburg. The bathrooms will make you think you’ve stepped backed into the thirties, with soaking tubs and showers that will quite baffle you with the complexity of nozzles. If you can figure them out, you’ll find the dinner-plate sized showerheads are so delightful that some guests have actually tried to steal them.

Tea in the Reading Room is served in silver teapots and gold-rimmed bone china, alongside the best scones in all of London. The flagship restaurant is Davies and Brook, by the celebrated chef Daniel Humm, and among the hotel’s other venues are the Art Deco–styled Foyer and a cocktail bar which has attracted the attention of the young jet set; up to now, Claridge’s was never a particularly youthful place.

But despite its dabbling with the world of cool, Claridge’s remains defiantly old-fashioned in attitude. The staff here is a far cry from the blasé boys and girls in black who haunt the hipper hotels. Rather, everyone is immaculately groomed, classically attired, and ever so discreet. From the doorman to the wait staff, from the butler who tends your suite to the head hall porter — other hotels call them concierges — all are unfailingly polite, and treat you with the courteous familiarity accorded to a regular. For at Claridge’s the manners change even less frequently than the decor.