Fittingly for a hotel with such literary credentials, the Bloomsbury seems to inhabit its own secret world, as secluded and magical as Narnia or Alice’s Wonderland. (Although CS Lewis and Lewis Carroll were both Oxford men.)
How can you travel from the crowds and chaos of Tottenham Court Road to the bucolic beauty of the Dalloway terrace? The walk takes two minutes, down a meagre little sidestreet, yet the transition is like going from Gotham City to Pemberley. Noise is swapped for calm, traffic lights transform into plants and flowers. Your migraine melts away.
As every English literature graduate knows – 2.1, baby! – the Bloomsbury Group was a collection of writers, artists and intellectuals who inhabited the area in the 1920s. The most famous member was Virginia Woolf, and the Dalloway Terrace is named after her most celebrated novel, Mrs Dalloway.
I’d like to think the extensive florage around the property references the famous opening line, “Mrs. Dalloway said she would buy the flowers herself", but it’s probably just there to look pretty. Which it does. Did I mention I got a 2.1 in English literature?
The terrace
The Bloomsbury looks in fine fettle considering it will soon turn 100. The building was designed in 1928 by Sir Edward Lutyens, who modelled the facade on Queen Mary's Dolls' House. It was intended as a base for the Young Women’s Christian Association – insert your own, “it’s good stay at the…” joke here. In 1998, the Doyle Collection purchased the property and transformed it into a luxury hotel. (The group has no connection with Sir Arthur Conan but still, another pleasing literary echo.)
Despite extensive refurbs, traces of its past life are shot through the current incarnation. The chapel and library on the first floor, the latter named after the late Irish poet Seamus Heaney – you can read his letter of thanks for the dedication. The original swimming pool remains hidden in the basement, currently inaccessible for guests but I believe plans are afoot.
Shall we return to the Terrace? It really is a lovely spot to while away an afternoon, especially during summer when everything feels right with the world. I highly recommend the smoked salmon – listed as a starter but sizable – and the lobster roll, a decadent delight. Pair with an aperol spritz for maximum brightness. Hell, make it two.
The Coral Bar
(While we didn’t have the afternoon tea, the adjacent table obliged and I must say, it looked pretty epic. A mixture of sandwiches, cakes and scones served on those incredibly cute stands that resemble wedding cakes. Accompany with tea, obviously, and a bottle of Nyetimber sparkling wine if you’re feeling cheeky.)
Venture inside and you will find the Coral Room, a truly spectacular cocktail bar and lounge. We’re talking a marble bar, five chandeliers, artwork everywhere and walls the same colour as that aperol spritz you just ordered. Saying that, there’s no need to booze – it’s open all day and will serve you a cappuccino as readily as a Cosmopolitan.
The Bloomsbury Club downstairs is a more nocturnal beast. The cocktails are Egyptian themed; the menu not only breaks down all twelve drinks but also what choosing each drink means about you. So picking an Anubis, for example, means something forgotten or buried needs to be recovered. Fancy a Ka? You should discard things that don’t serve you and open up to life.
The Bloomsbury Club
The menu also contains images and information on each God, along with a relevant quote from a Bloomsbury Club member. “Do I dare disturb the universe?” muses TS Elliot on the entry for Wadjet, Goddess of serpents. You can even request a pendulum and leave your chosen order to fat. It’s marvellously theatrical, and a complete blast. The drinks are damn good, too.
All this Egyptology whetted your historical whistle? Good news: the British Museum is just down the road. Use the rear entrance and save yourself an age in the queue. Like many Londoners I suspect, the Bloomsbury area isn’t one I’m particularly familiar with. As a result, the stay felt like a genuine staycation – wander down this street and see what you find.
If you fancy a late one, I recommend the Old Crown, a cracking pub that stays open to 3am. In central London? Now that really is magic! Booze, carouse, and totter back to your extremely comfortable hotel bedroom barely five minutes away. It's all utterly enchanting.
16-22 Great Russell St, London WC1B 3NN; The Bloomsbury
