Photo: londondrum.comUseful things to know before your stay
Star rating: ★★★★★ Address: The Ritz, 150 Piccadilly, St. James W1J 9BR. Telephone: 0207 493 8181. Website: theritzlondon.com
Is the hotel a good base for sightseeing?
Everything about this hotel is perfect - including its location! You’ll find it at the top of end of Piccadilly by Fortnum & Mason and Green Park. Other attractions within a 15 minute walk include Burlington Arcade, Royal Academy of Arts, Green Park, St. James’s Palace, Clarence House, Piccadilly Circus, Buckingham Palace, Carnaby Street, Handel & Hendrix in London, St. James’s Park, King’s Gallery, Apsley House and Wellington Arch.
How much does it cost to stay at the hotel?
Prices can change from day to day depending on availability, but a rough guide for both single and double rooms is £850 to £1,595 per night.
How many rooms does it have?
The Ritz has 111 rooms and 25 suites.
What facilities does the hotel have?
As one of the best hotels in the world The Ritz has everything from a Michelin starred restaurant, the world famous Rivoli bar, the Palm Court for Afternoon Tea, concierge and butler services, a fitness centre, foreign currency exchange, same-day laundry and luggage storage.
What facilities are in the rooms?
The cheapest rooms (which are still luxurious!) offer a turn-down service, a minibar, TV and DVD player, desk, telephone and wi-fi, a personal safe, and an ensuite bathroom with a hairdryer, iron and air-conditioning.
What time is check-in, and check-out?
Check-in is from 3 PM and check-out is by 12 noon.
Which buses go to The Ritz?
Bus routes 8, 26, 35, 42, 47, 48, 78, 135, 149, 205, 242, 344 and 388 all stop close by.
Which is the closest train station?
The nearest station is Green Park, which connects with the Jubilee Piccadilly and Victoria lines. It only takes a minute to walk to The Ritz.
Does the hotel have its own car park?
There’s no car park at the actual hotel but they do offer valet parking and a Rolls-Royce Phantom chauffeur service. Here’s a list of car parks in Mayfair.
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Oh my Lord. So this is how the other half lives!
I must be honest and say that I was a little bit intimidated before I walked into The Ritz. I know it sounds daft, but I wasn’t really looking forward to my stay here because I’m basically a slob, you see. I wear the same shirt all week, shave once a fortnight, and the only suit I own is my birthday suit. So the thought of walking into the poshest hotel in London filled me with dread and foreboding. I’m definitely going to get chucked out, I thought – there is no way they’re going to let me stay here. They’ll want to see my bank account, want to check my family tree for Royal relations… these are the kind of thoughts that were going through my head this morning. But I’ve made it past check-in and my fears have disappeared.
Photo: londondrum.comAs soon as you walk through the door everybody is very nice and polite and treat you like you actually deserve it, but they are probably used to getting a two grand tip from everyone they meet. The guy in reception was like an extra from Downton Abbey with a bazillion questions to make me feel more welcome: would you like a paper sir (er… can I have The Sun?). Would you like a wake-up call? Would you like your bag carried up? Would you like a tour of the hotel? When would you like dinner, sir? What about room service? Then he flummoxed me with the turn-down service. I haven’t got a clue what that is mate, I said. Apparently a maid is going to come into my room tonight and get it ready for bed, he said. Er… okay. That sounds like something for five-year-olds… pumping up my pillows and tucking me in. I wonder if she’ll read me a bedtime story as well.
After check-in I was given a quick little tour of the hotel (apparently they do this for everybody). She showed me the Rivoli Bar and Palm Court with its gigantic flower arrangements and waiters waltzing around with silver trays of teacakes. Then it was up to my room and she even gave me a little tour of that. Jesus Christ, I thought, as I walked into the room… trying my best not to look too impressed. Classical music was playing on a loop and there were so many cupboards and drawers and electronic gizmos that it took her a full five minutes to point them all out.
Photo: londondrum.comIf you knocked together all of the downstairs rooms in my house then I’m pretty sure that the Ritz’s room is bigger. First of all you have a little sitting area with a sofa, two armchairs and a coffee table groaning under the weight of several hefty books about fashion, cocktails and Van Gogh. It also had a few newspapers and the latest copy of Tatler magazine. Then you have acres of space to the bed in case you want to have a ballroom dance, another set of tables and chairs by the window, a separate dressing table, two bedside tables and a chest of drawers, a writing desk and office chair, and a marble fireplace with a Chinese vase on it that you hope to God you don’t accidentally smash.
Photo: londondrum.comThen there’s another huge cabinet with a widescreen TV that’s almost bigger than the bed, an umbrella stand (complete with some umbrellas), a proper ironing board, two pairs of slippers, a minibar and fridge with six crystal glasses and a tumbler of ice… I think that’s about it.
Do you know what I’ve just realised? You are not going to believe this. There is no kettle in here! This is an outrage! This is the first hotel that I’ve ever stayed at that doesn’t provide a kettle and teabags in the room. Even the 2-star dumps do that, so I have finally found something that I can moan about. I was going to give them a glowing 5-star review but they’re not even going to get 1-star now – that is how strongly I feel about my tea. Apparently you have to order your tea from room service and a butler brings it up.
The bathroom is decorated with red marble and gold and there are his and hers of everything… his and hers fluffy white towels, his and hers dressing gowns, and even his and hers sinks. You get a bath and shower combo plus a cubicle shower, and a mirror that’s bigger than the window. And of course it has a phone in there as well in case you want to order a pizza while you’re brushing your teeth.
Photo: londondrum.comI’m heading down to the Rivoli Bar now (to have a cup of tea). You get met by a waiter who of course is very friendly and polite and speaks in la Français, sits you down and asks you what you want. I’ll have a cup of tea please mate (£6.50!). It comes in a china cup on a solid silver tray, with sugar lumps that are so big you need a silver set of tongs to pick them up. He’s handed me a broadsheet paper to read and a plate with a couple of slices of cinnamon cake.
It’s like I’ve been transported back to the 1950s. It’s all art deco browns and golds with Frank Sinatra songs are swinging softly in the background and waiters in sharp suits and slicked back hair.
The bar is full of old wives and widows who look like they are totally used to this kind of thing. One of them is the perfect stereotype of a posh old doddy with thick rings on her fingers and a voice that’s posher than the Queen’s. It’s not hard to listen in because she’s talking louder than a brass band marching down The Mall. The couple next-door are celebrating a milestone birthday.
Then a crazy old professor walks in with a wispy white beard and five aerials of hair sticking out the top of his head and gets met by the waiter who asks him how his day has been. “What would you like, sir?” he says, and he gets met by a question this time: “What is the best drink for a sore throat?” I would probably go for a Lemsip, mate, is what he should say, but he suggests a whiskey and water instead. It’s a good job this guy isn’t a doctor or he’d be giving out beer on prescription.
I’ve ordered another cup of tea and he’s bought me another two slices of cinnamon cake. So that is my tip for you: if you want some free cinnamon cake then have a £6.50 cup of tea at The Ritz.
Four hours later… I’ve just found out what the turn-down service is. Imagine that you’ve hired a maid to do a load of unnecessary things for you… that is basically what it is. First of all she peels back the bed covers, then she puts a fresh pair of slippers by the bed and a glass of water on the bedside table. Then she goes and hangs up your jacket that you’ve lazily dumped on the sofa. It’s all highly embarrassing… I’m a grown man for chrissakes. She’s like a mother and a nurse all rolled into one but she’s getting well paid I suppose, so I guess it’s all right. She probably gets paid more in tips than I do on wages. But I must remember to have a quick tidy up before she comes back tomorrow.
I’m sitting in the restaurant having breakfast now. Very nice. Lots of flowers everywhere, pastel frescos and chandeliers but you have to dress up to get in, and I’ve never dressed up for cornflakes before. (I’m being serious – if you don’t wear a jacket then they insist on lending you one from their wardrobe round the back.)
All of the food is wheeled out on a silver trolley with lots of pots and plates and bowls of jam and sculpted butter. I’ve got three thousand knives and forks and big spoons and little spoons, plus a few glasses and cups. I’ve got a bread knife, a butter knife, a cheese knife plus two more knives that I haven’t got a clue about. That’s a hell of a lot of washing-up for just one person’s breakfast. My waiter is just about the nicest person I have ever met and I get the impression that he never stops smiling – like someone has whacked him round the face with a bunch of flowers. He’s pouring out the coffee, pouring out the milk, putting a napkin on my lap, fetching the newspaper. If I asked them to blow my nose then I reckon he’d do it.
A steady stream of sleepy suits and grey-flecked hairdos walk in with the Financial Times hooked over the crook of their elbow. They look like captains of industry – the movers and shakers of the business world. Two guys behind me are currently discussing emerging markets in the third world. Then a middle-aged couple walks in, all goggle-eyed and smiling like they are in a dream. Oh my lord, they are saying, this sure beats hash browns at McDonalds.
Evening meal now… if you ever want to propose to your partner then a dinner at The Ritz will seal the deal, for sure. Talk about glamour! There’s a string quartet playing in the Palm Court and all the diners have posh frocks and bow ties on. The decor is all yellow lamplights and flickering candles and I’m reminded of that scene in the Blues Brothers when they go inside that posh place and start flicking bread rolls about. That is me. I am the one who doesn’t belong… but maybe no one does. Maybe we are all playing the same game.
The waiter starts me off with three little canapés that look like works of art and you wonder whether you’re allowed to eat them (but I do). Then some coffee and wine and some delicate little toasts. Then he’s like a one-man Red Arrows display team as he swaps all the knives and forks around (you’ve got to use the right knives and forks for dinner). Everything has its own antique silver pot: the salt, rock salt, pepper, white sugar, brown sugar, milk, mustard, butter… I’ve already got about three thousand pots and plates on my table and he hasn’t even served up the food yet.
When dinner finally arrives it is what I call a ‘modern art’ meal: a pencil-sized slice of fish, three pieces of carrot (not a joke – I counted them) and a few spots of colourful sauce dribbled artistically around the plate. It was very nice though – one of the best meals I’ve ever tasted – but it looked as if it should have been in art gallery rather than on a dinner plate. Put it this way: if you came in starving hungry then you’d be going home with a rumbling stomach.
The evening ends with the string quartet playing waltzes in Palm Court. Then it’s off to bed and back to reality.
Afternoon Tea at The Ritz appears in my how to spend one day in London itineraries and one week in London itinerary
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What do you think? (6)
Ask a question, or share your experience of The Ritz
Carolyn How easy is it to book an afternoon tea at the Ritz? We can’t afford to stay in a room but would really like to try one of their famous teas when we are in London. Thanks! (reply)
Craig Hi Carolyn. You definitely need to book in advance because depending on the time of year you’re going you might have to wait as much as three months for a table (seriously!). And then remember that they have a dress code as well, so you need to make sure you’re looking reasonably smart on the day. But I think it’s definitely worth jumping through the hoops because the Palm Court is something special -- events/?p=18542 (reply)
Jill Hi. If I wanted a treat for my husband’s birthday what is the most reasonable room you can book (and by ‘reasonable’ I mean cheap, ha ha). It would just be for one night and it doesn’t really matter what time of year we go, because we can always put it back for a while. I would just like to be able to say we’ve stayed there at least once, because life is short (and getting shorter, ha ha). (reply)
Craig Hi Jill. I stayed in one of the cheap rooms myself – I think it was called a ‘superior queen’, which is the cheapest room you can get – but look at the photos. It was huge! It seemed more like a luxury suite to me. Depending on the time of year you go you’ll be looking at £400 to £500 a night. And if you eat in the restaurant that’s another £60 to £100 per person on top. But in my mind it’s the best hotel in London, so if you want to treat yourself there’s nowhere better. (reply)
Maggie Burt I am coming to London and would like to treat myself to breakfast at the Ritz. It will be my first and last time, as I am treating myself to have something special, simply because I have been a working mam all my life, now retired, but want to experience something grand in my life. Will I be ok doing this alone, or will I be viewed as a bit strange! (reply)
Craig Hi Maggie. Don’t worry, you’ll enjoy it. I stayed there for a couple of nights on my own and I tried the Rivoli Bar, breakfast in the morning, meal in the evening… all by myself. All the staff are super polite and treat everyone like they’re the most important person there. You will be spoiled… and everyone dresses up for breakfast. (reply)
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