This review follows a complimentary stay at The Kensington.
As rain threatened to fall from the dark autumnal sky, we ran from South Kensington station and down streets lined with handsome white houses and tall black gates. Dodging piles of leaves and dark, muddy puddles, we turned onto Queen’s Gate just as the heavens opened; the glowing windows of The Kensington Hotel welcoming us.
Our new home for just one night, we hurried up the steps of the beautiful building, smiling as a porter with a black bowler hat greeted us.
Stepping into the warmth of The Kensington’s lobby, a roaring fire decorated with pumpkins was burning, along with a dozen cedar scented candles.
Feeling more like the townhouse of a wealthy London family than a hotel, I felt instantly at home here. Indeed, before we’d even had a chance to put our suitcases down, friendly staff were on hand to offer us hot towels and a refreshing drink.
Sinking into an armchair as we waited to check in, a smug smile spread across my face: I had a feeling this was going to be far from a regular Sunday evening.