**The Guards Hotel: London's Best-Kept Secret (You NEED to See This!)**
The Guards Hotel: London's Best-Kept Secret? Maybe They're Right… (And You REALLY Need to See This!) - A Very Honest Review
Okay, let's be real. I'm notoriously difficult to please when it comes to hotels. I want everything. And I want it now. So, when I heard whispers – and let me emphasize whispers – about this mythical place called "The Guards Hotel," I was skeptical. London is a minefield of overpriced, underwhelming accommodations. But the hype, the secret element… it piqued my interest. And honestly? I think I might just be converted. Buckle up, because this is gonna be a long one.
First Impressions: The "Secret" Stuff & Location, Location, Location
Accessibility: Okay, let's get this out of the way. I didn't specifically test accessibility in-depth, and I haven't seen detailed specs. But, from what I saw, there's an elevator (that felt modern, not creaky!) and accessible facilities. Double-check with the hotel directly if this is a primary concern. The website seemed to have Facilities for disabled guests. That's a good start, right?
Location is incredible. The location is one of its key secrets. Seriously, right in the heart of the city? I'm not going to specify the exact "secret" location – that's part of the fun – but let's just say you're close to everything. And I mean everything. This is an absolute win.
The "Secret" Entrance (and the Whispered Whispers)
The whole "secret" thing? It's not just marketing. It's legit. The understated entrance. The discrete doorman. It feels… exclusive. Like you've stumbled upon a treasure. I half expected a password. (Though I didn't get one, sadly.) And the fact that it seems to not be a Hotel Chain and there is a Doorman right there… it's got an air of quiet luxury which is perfect.
Cleanliness and Safety? They've Got This Down!
This is HUGE, especially after… gestures vaguely at the last few years. The Guards Hotel takes this seriously. The Anti-viral cleaning products are evident. The staff were taking it very seriously: Staff trained in safety protocol. Daily disinfection in common areas (I actually saw them doing it, which is reassuring). And I was so relieved to see Hand sanitizer stations EVERYWHERE. Plus, I'm a germaphobe, and I loved the Rooms sanitized between stays. It made me feel so much safer!
The Rooms: Pure Bliss (Mostly)
Oh, the rooms! Okay, let's dive in.
Available in all rooms:
- Air conditioning: Essential for a good night's sleep. The Air conditioning was quiet too, which is a huge plus.
- Alarm clock: A little anachronistic, I guess, but it worked.
- Bathrobes: Luxury! I lived in this.
- Bathroom phone: (Not sure I'd use it, but hey! It's a thing).
- Bathtub: Yes!
- Blackout curtains: Bless. I hate light in the morning.
- Carpeting: I’m not the biggest fan, but it was clean.
- Closet: Plenty of space.
- Coffee/tea maker and Complimentary tea: I'm a caffeine addict. This was my lifeline.
- Daily housekeeping: Impeccable.
- Desk: I actually used it for a bit of work.
- Extra long bed: Always a win for tall people.
- Free bottled water: Always appreciated.
- Hair dryer: Powerful, thank god.
- High floor: The view was amazing!
- In-room safe box: Peace of mind.
- Ironing facilities: I'm that person who irons, sue me.
- Linens: Luxurious.
- Mini bar: Tempting, but expensive (as is usually the case).
- Mirror: Everywhere. Which is good; I spend way too much time looking at myself.
- Non-smoking: Yes, please!
- Reading light: Perfect for nighttime reading.
- Refrigerator: Handy.
- Satellite/cable channels: I barely used them, but they were there.
- Scale: I avoided this at all costs…
- Seating area: Nice for relaxing.
- Separate shower/bathtub: A win-win situation.
- Shower: Good water pressure.
- Slippers: Comfy.
- Smoke detector: Reassuring.
- Socket near the bed: Essential for charging devices.
- Sofa: Comfy.
- Soundproofing: Amazing. Couldn’t hear a thing from outside.
- Telephone: I didn't try it.
- Toiletries: High-quality.
- Towels: Fluffy.
- Umbrella: A lifesaver in London!
- Visual alarm: (I didn't need this, but appreciate the thought!)
- Wake-up service: I set my own alarm (see: caffeine addiction).
- Wi-Fi [free]: Crucial!
- Window that opens: A MUST for fresh air.
Other Room Things:
- Extra long bed: Wonderful!
- Interconnecting room(s) available: great for families.
- On-demand movies: I didn’t partake, but options are good.
- Private bathroom: Duh.
- Room decorations: Stylish but not overly fussy.
- Safety/security feature: Always appreciated.
The Spa: My Moment of Zen (and Minor Freak-Out)
Okay, I'm not normally a spa person. But, after a day of pounding the London pavements, I caved. And… wow.
- Body scrub: Divine. Made my skin feel like a baby's bottom.
- Body wrap: Relaxing, if slightly claustrophobic.
- Fitness center: I looked at it. Honestly, I was too busy relaxing.
- Foot bath: Heavenly.
- Gym/fitness: See above.
- Massage: The BEST. I think I might have drooled a little.
- Sauna: Perfect for sweating out the city stress.
- Spa: Gorgeous.
- Spa/sauna: Well, duh!
- Steamroom: Lovely.
The Pool with view was stunning. And the pool itself was… well, it was a pool. But the view! Just… amazing. I could float for hours. Except…. There were some people in there… which, you know, is life.
Dining, Drinking, and Snacking: My Stomach's Happy Place
Now, listen, I'm a big eater. And The Guards Hotel does not disappoint.
- A la carte in restaurant: Delicious options.
- Asian cuisine in restaurant: Interesting! Maybe a little out-of-place, but hey.
- Bar: A cozy space for pre-dinner cocktails. The bartenders know their stuff.
- Bottle of water: Always provided.
- Breakfast buffet: Fantastic. Seriously. The Breakfast [buffet] was a masterpiece of culinary excess.
- Breakfast service: Excellent.
- Coffee/tea in restaurant: More caffeine, please!
- Coffee shop: Convenient.
- Desserts in restaurant: Rich and decadent.
- Happy hour: Yes, please!
- International cuisine in restaurant: A wide range of choices.
- Poolside bar: I didn't use it, but it's a great option.
- Restaurants: Several options, all top-notch.
- Room service [24-hour]: Crucial for late-night cravings.
- Snack bar: Handy.
- Soup in restaurant: Great for a chilly London day.
- Vegetarian restaurant: A decent option.
- Western breakfast: A hearty start to the day.
- Western cuisine in restaurant: Plenty of comfort food options.
- Alternative meal arrangement: They were very accommodating about my dietary needs. Very impressive.
- Breakfast in room: Bliss.
- Breakfast takeaway service: A great option if you're in a hurry.
- Individually-wrapped food options: Good, in case of wanting to feel clean – and safe.
- Safe dining setup: They take this seriously.
- Sanitized kitchen and tableware items: Reassuring
Guards Hotel: My Slightly Disastrous, Utterly Delightful, and Definitely Opinionated Itinerary
Right, buckle up, buttercups. This isn’t your sanitized travel blog. This is real life, happening in one of those fancy-pants hotels that probably smells faintly of old money and superior breeding – The Guards Hotel in, you guessed it, the UK. And I'm here to tell the tale, warts and all.
Day 1: Arrival and the Great Expectations Fiasco
- 1:00 PM: Arrived at The Guards. Honestly? The exterior is underwhelming. All stoic brick and… well, more stoic brick. I expected a sweeping staircase, maybe a gilded lion or two. Instead, a politely-dressed doorman (who probably judges my rumpled travel clothes) gestures me inside. Emotional Reaction: Mild disappointment, quickly masked by a desperate need for a cup of tea. Which, you know, is the English way.
- *Anecdote: While checking in, I managed to completely miss the hotel’s subtle attempts at “charm”. Turns out the desk attendant, blessed with the patience of a saint, had to repeat my room number twice. My brain was still half-on-the-plane. "Room 42?….Yes, Room 42… You are at Room 42… Room 42 it is". A slight flush crept up my neck. I am forever Room 42 now.
- 2:00 PM: Attempt at unpacking. Failed. The wardrobe seems engineered to confuse, and my suitcase exploded. Now I'm stuck with a mountain of wrinkled shirts and a lingering suspicion that I brought too many shoes (again). Quirky Observation: My internal monologue is currently a battle between "Must maintain composure!" and "Just throw everything on the bed!"
- 3:00 PM: Tea Time! Finally. The hotel’s drawing-room (I think that's the right term?) is actually quite lovely – plush velvet sofas, a crackling fireplace (faux, I suspect, but effective), and those tiny cucumber sandwiches. My tiny, elegant lady is trying very hard to resist the whole plate. Then, there's me, gobbling them down like I haven't eaten in weeks. Emotional Reaction: Bliss. Literal, tea-infused bliss.
- *Anecdote: I nearly choked on a scone. Seriously. Think the Queen herself would have enjoyed that? Probably not. My attempts at delicate sipping were quickly abandoned in favor of, ahem, more robust consumption. I suspect the other guests were mildly horrified.
- 6:00 PM: Drinks at the Bar. Ordered a gin and tonic (because, when in Rome… or rather, Westminster). Barman – impeccable suit, steely gaze – clearly not used to my brand of casual. He delivered the drink with the same air of disdain that a surgeon might deliver a diagnosis. Emotional Reaction: Mild intimidation. Must. Not. Spill.
- 7:30 PM: Dinner at the hotel's restaurant. The menu is a symphony of… well, complicated sounding things. Foie gras, pheasant something-or-other, things I’ve only heard of in Masterchef. I'm feeling a bit out of my depth, so I order the “classic” roast chicken. It ends up being… incredibly dry. The sauce, however, is divine. Opinionated language: Dry chicken is truly a crime. A culinary abomination!
- *Rambling: Also, side note – the bread. The *bread*! It was artisanal, crusty, and served with butter that…well, you could spread it with a knife straight from the fridge and it still felt like heaven on earth. I probably ate way too much bread. But I regret nothing. Except the chicken.
- Messy structure Because I'm still thinking about that awful chicken… it was too dry. Almost as though it came from the arid deserts themselves. Should have ordered the fish. Definitely should have ordered the fish.
Day 2: History, Humour and a Horrendous Haircut
- 9:00 AM: Breakfast. The full English. Attempted to eat it with the same sophistication as the drawing-room tea. Failed. Ended up covered in egg yolk. Opinionated language The sausage was divine, the bacon too salty, and the beans were suspiciously good.
- 10:00 AM: A tour of the Houses of Parliament & Westminster Abbey.
- *Real-sounding anecdote: Took a wrong turn and ended up in a rather serious-looking room, filled with men in dark suits. Whispered to a passing guide "I think I'm lost". He just sighed and pointed me back into the tour. The shame!.
- 1:00 PM: Lunch at a pub. Proper pub grub. Fish and chips, mushy peas, the works. This, I can handle. Emotional Reaction: Contentment. Beer. Sun. Perfect combination.
- 3:00 PM: The hair cut. A decision I should never have made. The Barber was lovely, the shop itself the embodiment of traditional style, and while the cut began, I thought "This will be great!", then quickly went "Oh NO!". Emotional Reaction: Disappointment.
- *Doubling down on a single experience: My hair - it's a disaster! It is shorter, way shorter than I wanted, and has a weird side-parting. It's also now plastered in product that I can't wash off until I am back at the hotel. It's a mess. I look like I've just escaped from a Victorian orphan-age. And everyone will see! The rest of my trip will be spent hiding under my suitcase.
- 6:00 PM: Attempt to salvage my hair. Failed miserably. Resigned myself to a hat for the evening (thank god I packed one!). Quirky Observation: Suddenly, I'm very interested in the history of hats. Must research this.
- 7:00 PM: Pre-dinner drinks at the bar (wearing hat). The bartender, surprisingly, seemed sympathetic. Maybe he's seen worse. Emotional Reaction Appreciative of the kindness of a stranger.
Day 3: Departure and Lasting Impressions
- 9:00 AM: Final breakfast.
- 10:00 AM: Check-out. Managed to navigate the departure without any major wardrobe malfunctions. The reception, now knowing my name, gave me a small nod of familiarity. Emotional reaction: a mix of relief, pride and a hint of wanting to go back.
- 11:00 AM: Train Station. Goodbyes to a fascinating and flawed trip, memories made, and most importantly, a haircut to forever be etched in my brain.
- Opinionated language: The Guards Hotel was… well, it was a thing. It’s a place you go to experience the real side of the UK. It's not perfect (especially the room service chicken), but it's got character. And honestly, after all the mishaps, I wouldn’t trade any of it. Goodbye, Guards, until next time!
The Guards Hotel: London's Best-Kept Secret (You NEED to See This!) - FAQs (Because, Let's Be Honest, You're Probably Confused)
Okay, Okay, I'm Intrigued. Where *IS* This Elusive Guards Hotel, Anyway? And Why the Secret Club Vibes?
Alright, alright, settle down, Nancy Drew. The Guards Hotel is nestled in… well, *that* I won't tell you outright. Part of the allure, darling! It's in a very posh, very discreet part of London (think less flashing lights, more hushed tones and perfectly manicured lawns kind of posh). Think "I'm having a clandestine affair with a Duke" rather than "I'm getting a kebab after a rave."
As for the secret club vibes? Spot on! It *feels* exclusive. It's like you've stumbled upon a hidden treasure, the sort your aunt with the suspiciously large collection of emerald rings would have. Partly because it *is* a bit exclusive… or, at least, it *feels* that way. They’re not exactly shouting from the rooftops, are they? You've GOT to be "in the know." It’s almost like a really, really refined, and ridiculously classy, version of a speakeasy. I mean, how ELSE do you explain the fact that I managed to bumble my way in there and subsequently spent the next three days feeling like royalty?!
What's the Vibe? Is it All Stuffy Silver-Service and Whispered Conversations? Because, frankly, that sounds exhausting.
Look, I *hate* stuffiness. I'd rather eat a lukewarm sausage roll than endure an hour of forced etiquette. But surprisingly… it's not *that* bad. It's definitely elegant. Think Downton Abbey meets… slightly less serious Downton Abbey, if that makes sense? Like the staff is all impeccably dressed (and oh-so-polite) but they don't make you feel like you're committing a capital offense by accidentally using the wrong fork.
The atmosphere just breathes *history*. You half expect Lord Grantham to stroll in any second, moaning about the taxes. The decor is fantastic; thick carpets, antique furniture, paintings that make you wonder about the lives they've witnessed… and the stories they could tell. But it’s not *cold*. There's a definite warmth, a sense of… well, belonging, once you're *in*. And you feel a lot like you're in a movie, it's all so effortlessly chic.
The Rooms! Tell Me About the Rooms! Are They... Worth It?
Okay, brace yourself. They're… glorious. Absolutely, undeniably, take-out-a-second-mortgage-to-afford-glorious. This is where it REALLY hits you. The rooms are HUGE. Like, you could have a small garden party in one of them huge. I'm a relatively small person, and I swear I could have easily gotten lost.
Picture this: high ceilings, plush beds you could practically *swim* in, bathrooms with more marble than the Vatican. They even leave out fresh flowers! And the views… oh, the views! London spreads out before you like… well, like a beautiful, slightly chaotic, and utterly fascinating tapestry. Oh, the memories I made in that bathroom! (Ahem, mostly just singing at the top of my lungs while trying to avoid the massive, gorgeous, but intimidatingly pristine bathtub). Honestly, I'd sell a kidney to go back. Forget a second mortgage… maybe a third one.
Food and Drink: Is it Worth Saving Up For Seconds?
Listen. I'm a foodie. A passionate, ravenous, slightly obsessive foodie. And the food at The Guards Hotel… let's just say it's a crime it's not on every Michelin-starred restaurant list. (Though, maybe that's the point of the secret, right?)
Breakfast? Unbelievable. The Full English is legendary (and I can attest to this after a *very* thorough investigation). Lunch? Exquisite sandwiches and salads that somehow make you *feel* healthy, despite your inner voice screaming, "MORE CAKE!" Dinner? Forget about it. Proper, elegant dining with dishes that are culinary masterpieces. I remember this one particular dish – a lamb something-or-other with a sauce so divine it brought a tear to my eye. Seriously. A tear. And the wine list? Dear God, the wine list! Prepare to be *very* generous with your credit card. Or maybe sell a kidney, again. Food and drink are expensive, not gonna lie. But…worth it. Every. Single. Penny.
The Staff: Are They Actually Nice, or Just Properly Trained Robots?
Oh, the staff. Now, *this* is where The Guards truly shines. They're not just polite; they're *genuinely* lovely. Think the best, most charming, and most helpful friend you could ever hope to have, but in a crisp uniform. They’re attentive without being intrusive. They remember your name, your drink order… even the slightly embarrassing details of your over-enthusiastic, pre-breakfast singing session in the bathroom. (Yes, *that* happened. And yes, it was mortifying *and* they never mentioned it. Pure class!)
I remember this one time… ah, let me tell you... Okay, so, I had a major wardrobe malfunction (don't ask). It involved a dress, a particularly enthusiastic tango in the lobby, and a… well, a significant rip. I was mortified. I was ready to crawl under the nearest rug and disappear. The staff, bless their hearts, swooped in. Within minutes, I had a needle and thread, a calming cup of tea, and a sincere apology for the inconvenience… even though *I* was the one who wrecked my dress! Seriously, they were my saviors. Amazing people. Seriously.
What's the "Secret" to Getting In? Any Hacks? (Please, I Beg You!)
Ah, the million-dollar question! Look, I can't *directly* tell you. I'm bound by… by… the unwritten rules of secret hotel experiences. But I can offer a few *hints*. Connections, maybe? A recommendation? Perhaps knowing the right… well, let’s just say, knowing the right people (wink, wink, nudge, nudge).
But the truth is… luck might have played a part in my own admittance. Maybe, just maybe, I tripped over the right doorknob at the right time. Or perhaps I was just very, very persuasive. (I'm not ruling out the possibility of divine intervention.) The point is, keep trying, dear friend. Keep searching. This hotel is worth the effort. And if all else fails? Send me a carrier pigeon with a bribe. (Just kidding… mostly.)
