SITUATED in the heart of Chelsea, a stone’s throw from the bustling Sloane Square, is the new Sloane Place hotel. Having opened just two years ago, the residence mixes modern luxury with classical comforts, yet does so in a manner that is neither stuffy nor old-fashioned, but rather metropolitan and comforting. It’s hard to ignore the lively energy of the lobby upon my arrival.
Perhaps it’s the colourful decor or the wonderful staff, or the carefree enjoyment of residents and visitors enjoying food and cocktails from one of the many eateries and bars is catching on. Though a neighbour to the notorious Sloane Club, it’s clear that this is not a hotel that is stuck in the past.
The colourful demeanour continues through the halls and into my room, which is an explosion of mustard yellow, deep blues and steely greys; colours which bounce off of one another and reflect the early summer sunshine perfectly.
The hotel offers a succinct but appetising range of cuisine, from the comfort food of the ground floor restaurant during the day, to the East-Asian meets European fusion offered in the evening. However, with weather as hot as this, it seemed the roof terrace was the only sensible option.
I make my way up to the terrace, signalled by music and laughter, and fall into a utopia of gin cocktails and deliciously fresh European food. Until the end of June, the roof terrace at Sloane Place has been transformed into a summer-time pop-up venue, hosted alongside No. 3 Gin. Though delicious cocktails are a given, what makes it such a must-visit is the weekly live music residency that happens every Sunday.
Serenaded by the performers and mixologists alike, I couldn’t determine if it was the heatwave or the energy of the hotel that made me feel as if I had been transported to somewhere in the Mediterranean, made all the more sweeter upon the return to my comfortable room.
Refreshed, in the morning I make my way to the restaurant to sample some of the famous pancakes, which made the perfect farewell to a whirlwind of relaxation amidst the big smoke.
by Ben Sanderson