First, let’s talk about where this fortress of sleep is planted. It’s on Minories, a street so old it probably has Roman graffiti. You’re literally a stone’s throw—or, more accurately, a well-aimed selfie stick—from the Tower of London and that big, shiny bridge everyone pretends they visit every time they come to town.
Forget the “walkability” nonsense you read in fancy brochures. Here, you can stumble out of the lobby, see the Crown Jewels, and be back in time for the complimentary tea kettle to finish boiling. I took a stroll from the hotel to the Tower Bridge and back, and it took me less time than it does to explain why you don’t pet a pigeon. It’s that close.
