Claridge’s is Claridge’s and everywhere else is everywhere else. The city’s most storied hotel wears her legend lightly. In the movie-set lobby, with its black-and-white marble floor and swooping scroll of a staircase, the ghosts of Audrey Hepburn, Winston Churchill, and Jackie O mingle with the tech billionaire, the Upper East Side maven, and the indie designer just checking in. At Claridge’s there is a continuum. A new five star hotel opens every other day in London. Some, briefly become a scene. But who wants to stay in a scene? Better to let time slip by in the shadowy embrace of the Fumoir bar, where it’s always midnight at noon, or to check out the new spa, gym, and pool, part of a seven-year, multi-million-pound renovation that has nevertheless kept the bones of the building intact. Your choice. “I don’t want to go back to nature,” to paraphrase the great Fran Lebowitz, “I want to go back to the hotel.” Always. —David Downton

David Downton is an Editor at Large at AIR MAIL