Review: Athenaeum Hotel, Piccadilly

Stretching over Green Park to the London Eye and Buckingham Palace, the Athenaeum Hotel, on London’s Piccadilly, must thank its lucky stars it boasts such a spectacular view. At first glance, it is undeniably the hotel’s most redeeming feature, especially for those who do not arrive by taxi or limousine, but instead by humble tube.
Slap in-between Green Park and Hyde Park Corner tubes, get out at the latter if you opt to splash out the minimum £225-a-night. Because to arrive at the former draws you down the splendour of Piccadilly, eagerly anticipating what you perceive to be a hotel of grandeur: a building to rival embassies, the former home of a lesser-known Prime Minister or even the nearby Royal Academy.

You catch a gasp - there are the tell-tale flags and much-coveted stars adorning heavy, imposing columns which form the entrance. But hang on a minute - the Park Lane Hotel? Must be on the wrong street. Nope. It’s definitely Piccadilly.
Then it hits you, like the waft of a portaloo at Glastonbury. It’s that hideous lump of concrete next door.
A ruddy-faced doorman placates my horror with a reassuring smile as he pulls open the door - he knows what I’m thinking, but doesn’t much care for first impressions.

This is because the Athenaeum is part-way through a re-vamp, which has already seen an exquisite transformation of the entire ground floor. Olive trees and lavender greet you on entering, Riccardo Cinalli’s magical roses painted in oils on plexiglas provide an intriguing touch to the lobby, and set into the wall behind the reception desk are 135,000 mother of pearl buttons, inspired by London’s pearly kings and queens.

What a shame that charm wasn’t shared by the cantankerous, seemingly ageist receptionist. I realise I don’t possess the swagger of a fat cat American with a bank balance even bigger than my bloated belly, but it surely should not deny me any of the same courtesies, such as offering for a porter to carry my bag. It wasn’t heavy, but that’s not the point.
And after all, the hotel gave me a freebie in the hope I write a flattering review and entice the people of Henley to part with their hard-earned cash and enjoy what is a luxury hotel.

But I digress. Attention to detail is this hotel’s forte: try the home-infused rosemary, lemongrass or chocolate vodkas in the bar, apple juice from Henry VIII’s Tudor orchards or one of 250 malts in the famous whisky room.
It also boasts to be ‘the only place in London’ where you can sample honey made from beehives in Regents Park and offers a particularly plush ladies’ powder room, with pink panelling, arm chairs, antique dressing tables and fluffy white towels. Who needs a grand façade with such decadence!

Well, I do. Although scattered with some elegant furniture my ‘executive’ room was no bigger than a standard double in a Thistle hotel. Every room is set for a refit in the coming months - which is somewhat overdue as not even the dreamily comfortable bed or ferocious shower could sway my attention from the brown sweat patches on the dated canvas headboard.

The hotel knows its exterior is ugly, as it has posted not one roadside photo onto its attractive online gallery. It is even considering draping the front in plants.
Regardless, that should not deter visitors, especially after renovations are complete. The Athenaeum stands on one of the most revered addresses in the capital and is a short hop from many of London’s greatest attractions, from the Royal Academy to numerous West End theatres and the most exhilarating view of any city in the world, from Westminster to Wembley, high up on the London Eye.