From the haze of Monaco’s after-parties to the glass canyons of Moorgate, Peter Robinson trades champagne flutes for coffee cups and discovers that the City of London can, in fact, loosen its tie. South Place Hotel, The Evolv Collection’s £50 million statement of intent, is where Conran’s design DNA meets the swagger of a modern brasserie. Between the art-filled atrium, the hidden garden bar and the Michelin-starred heights of Angler, Robinson finds something rare in the Square Mile: a place built for business but made for pleasure.
Do you feel like family? Do you feel you could ask something obscure or out of the ordinary perhaps and have it be met with wilful mite. The South Place Hotel almost feels like home. For someone living on the other side of London, that’s not a huge ask, but it remains a factor. I see my family more often, and the effort to do so requires a boat or very very small plane. So, fresh off the flight from Monaco, sleep-deprived, over-filmed and quietly hungover, I traded the Riviera’s late nights for the Square Mile’s Sunday silence, steering towards a place I’d only ever known from its parties. South Place Hotel had always been the backdrop: rum tastings, champagne launches, whispered deals under low light. This time I came not for an event, but to stay. What followed was part recovery, part revelation, a reminder that even in the heart of London’s financial district, there’s room for art, the usual indulgence and a rooftop restaurant called Angler that might just be the best reason to cancel a Monday meeting.
I landed back in London with just enough energy to drive across the city for brunch. Somewhere between self-punishment and self-preservation, I pointed the car towards Moorgate. South Place Hotel sits slap-bang in the middle of the Square Mile but has always felt more Soho than spreadsheet. I’d been to countless events there over the years: brand launches, rum tastings hosted by Flora de Caña, even a terrace night with Charles Heidsieck before English wine brands began their renaissance. But I’d never actually stayed.
To understand South Place, you need to trace its DNA. The hotel was born from D&D London (now The Evolv Collection), the outfit founded by Des Gunewardena and David Loewi after buying out 49 per cent of Sir Terence Conran’s restaurant empire in 2007. Conran’s hand still lingers in the details: the modernist precision, the tactile interiors, the belief that good design should seduce without ever shouting.
When South Place opened in 2012, it did so with a £50 million investment and a bold claim: the first purpose-built hotel in the City of London for more than a century. Conran + Partners were given the run of the place, and they delivered something tactile and grown-up, all walnut, brushed metal, velvet and a wink of irreverence.
The entrance is discreet, almost secretive, and it leads into a high-ceilinged atrium that doubles as a bar. A LOVE Bomb sculpture by East London artist Dave Buonaguidi (a.k.a. Real Hackney Dave) commands the space, while a neon sign upstairs reminds guests that “Keanu Reeves Loves Bacon”. It’s the kind of art you’d expect at a gallery opening, not a business-district hotel. That’s precisely the point.
When I finally booked in, the City was eerily quiet, the weekend lull settling over the financial district. Check-in was quick, the staff unflappably polite, and the side-door entrance made it feel more members’ club than mainstream. The room itself was everything expected: a bed that could swallow you whole, Bang & Olufsen TV glowing at the foot, remote-control blackout blinds and a bathroom the size of a small apartment. Marble everywhere, a rain shower generous enough for two, and carpets that silenced every thought of the trading floors a few streets away.
There’s usually a welcome drink waiting, I can’t tell you what mine was; by then, I’d already ordered drinks to the room and given in to the comfort of doing absolutely nothing. Later that night, hunger got the better of us and we drifted downstairs to the restaurant. The Tomahawk was gone; the kitchen, undeterred, offered the roast platter instead. Three hours later, we were still at the table, full, a little dazed, and quietly convinced that indulgence was a legitimate recovery strategy. If you’re familiar with Bluebird, try the City Roast.
The bar kept pace with faultless cocktails – the kind that appear before you’ve even realised you needed one. Although I’ve attended more South Place events than I can count, with rum, champagne, wine, even a few spirited tastings that blurred the line between client entertainment and personal vice, the service during the stay stood out. Polished, unpretentious and quietly watchful in that way that anticipates you without ever hovering.
South Place’s secret weapon has always been its food. The rooftop restaurant, Angler, opened in 2013 and earned its Michelin star almost immediately. It’s kept it ever since. Now under the helm of Craig Johnston, winner of MasterChef: The Professionals, the restaurant continues to set the standard for seafood in the capital.
Johnston joined in October 2024 after stints at Pollen Street Social and as head chef at Marcus Belgravia. His dishes are composed with the precision of an architect and the calm of a man who knows exactly when to let his pristinely-sourced ingredients speak. Roast Orkney scallops, Loch Duart salmon, tuna tartare with wasabi mix and celeriac remoulade; this is the kind of cooking that feels both effortless and impossibly refined.
The room itself, glass-walled and minimal, glows gold as the light fades. From the terrace you can watch the City transform from high-gloss commerce to after-hours hush, a reminder that London, too, knows how to relax.
South Place Hotel remains one of the City’s quiet masterpieces: a hotel that manages to be corporate and creative, disciplined yet decadent. The Conran touch gives it soul, the F&B programme gives it life. Whether you’re in for brunch, a tasting, or an indulgent night between meetings, it’s a sanctuary that never forgets its sense of humour.
For those who live by the rhythm of meetings, markets and mergers, South Place offers something rare: a place where the City finally exhales.
