Hana: The Zetter Townhouse sits unobtrusively in an expansive cobbled square in Clerkenwell. The large turquoise door and hanging gold lamp make for a sophisticated, artsy entrance straight into the acclaimed bustling bar. The gentleman that greeted us was full of warm character, as were all of the staff. He let us know that we’d been treated to a room upgrade so we were off to a great start!
Our room (No. 7) was very spacious, homely, well thought out and just comfortable to be in. The opening shutters into the white-tiled bathroom made me happy and were a sweet, intimate and fun addition to the room. Full of antique furniture and trinkets, there was loads to look at and revel in, in the room and across the whole house. The winding staircase cum fire escape was walled with newspaper cuttings – here I learnt that the speaker’s chair in the House of Commons was a gift from Australia! Merging design and necessity, portraits turned ‘Fire Exit’ signs hang on every floor.
Something really great, but often overlooked – our room had so much storage, and there weren’t any of those annoying leaflets stuffed in all the drawers selling you car rentals, duck tours and other unnecessary touristy things.
We booked through my favourite hotel site – Mr & Mrs Smith. They have a worldwide selection of luxury, boutique and design hotels listed at the best rates and with little complimentary extras on arrival, be it a bottle of wine, late check-out or a complimentary spa treatment. At Zetter, we received two cocktails, which we enjoyed sat in the leather armchairs in our room.
Ange: Clerkenwell is a decidedly strange area. Media companies run rampant and it is largely full of mid-range lunchtime eateries. Sunday was not the best time to visit the area but after a carb-loading session at Signor Sassi we were content with lounging in our room all evening.
The reception/bar area was as expected: a cocktail lounge with old-timey furniture, moustachioed barmen and a particularly zealous concierge. It was all fairly Grand Budapest on a miniature scale, even down to the lift that three of us awkwardly huddled in to.
Our room was spacious. The bed was large and squidgy, the décor was countrified but the view left a lot to be desired (a drawback of most of central London hotels). The bathroom had a window to the bedroom reminiscent of a bar in a Western. It seems many hotels these days assume that one wants unrestricted access to their significant others’ porcelain escapades – I’m not sure how I feel about this voyeurism yet but who am I to question the design professionals.
A fantastic feature that I’ve yet to encounter in another London hotel was the games room. Equipped with board games, a small bar and a ping pong table this was the highlight for me. Well, that and the stairwell lined with old newspaper. All in all, it wasn’t exactly a romantic destination but I certainly wouldn’t advise against it for a business trip.
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