Hazlitt’s is the real deal: as genuine, amusing and revealing a hotel as you could hope for, especially in bustling Soho. It’s named after the radical essayist and master of English prose, William Hazlitt. He died in poverty in 1830 at number 6 Frith Street, one of three adjoining townhouses that the owners, experts on the Georgian era, fashioned into Hazlitt’s in 1986. A fourth building behind was converted to create a sitting room with an honesty bar and an additional eight bedrooms, reached by a lift. As befits an establishment with such literary connections, the hotel is popular with authors, who leave signed copies of their works when they depart. The sloping, creaking floorboards have been retained and the rooms, decorated with antiques, busts and prints, are individually furnished, with splendid bathtubs and Victorian fittings in the bathrooms. Like the rooms in its distinctive sisters, Batty Langley’s and The Rookery (see pages 000 and 000), they are delightfully different from other London hotels.
Take some time to browse the selection of books donated by visiting authors such as Bill Bryson, JK Rowling, Ted Hughes among others.
Right in the heart of Soho, you are spoilt for choice when it comes to food. For a classic London spot, visit J Sheekey seafood restaurant.
A theatre ticket, since you’re in the neighbourhood.
Nota Bene
Sir Godfrey, the hotel cat, has lived at Hazlitt’s for eight years.
