Why a lobby is the kindest place to say hello
There is a reason a great hotel lobby feels so easy to sit in alone, waiting. Every one of them is built to hold strangers meeting other strangers: business partners who have never shaken hands, old friends reunited after years abroad, a couple on a date arranged only that morning. Nobody working the floor asks a single question about who is meeting whom or why, because the whole design of the room assumes exactly this kind of encounter, over and over, every evening of the year.
For a first meeting with a companion, that anonymity is a genuine kindness. A lobby bar removes the small awkwardness of a knock on a hotel door before either of you has said a word, replacing it with something closer to meeting a friend for a drink, at a table where a waiter arrives before either of you has to signal for one.
The grand halls, built for a crowd
Claridge's art deco lobby in Mayfair, its black and white chequered floor photographed by nearly every first time visitor, keeps a low hum of conversation running from afternoon tea through to the small hours. The Savoy's Thames Foyer in Covent Garden, set beneath a domed glass ceiling with a pianist often at work in the corner, has been a meeting point for exactly this kind of quiet arrival for well over a century. Both rooms are large enough that two people settling at a corner table draw no attention whatsoever, and both keep a full bar staff on duty until late.
The Connaught's small ground floor bar, tucked just off its own lobby in Mayfair, works on a similar principle at a smaller scale, a room built for one good drink and a proper conversation before anyone thinks about the lift.
The quieter rooms, built for two
Some of London's loveliest first drink venues hold far fewer tables. The Rivoli Bar at The Ritz, a narrow gold and black room just off the main lobby, feels like stepping inside a jewellery box, and a martini there arrives before the conversation has quite found its footing. The Artesian at The Langham in Marylebone glows purple and gold after dark and keeps its tables spaced generously enough for a private conversation despite a room that is rarely empty.
In Belgravia, The Berkeley's Blue Bar, painted the exact shade its name promises, is small enough to feel like somewhere you have been invited rather than somewhere you have simply walked in. All three reward arriving a little early: claim a corner table, order the first drink, and let your companion find you there rather than the other way round.
What to order, and how long to stay
There is no correct drink for a first hello, though a classic cocktail or a good glass of Champagne tends to suit these particular rooms better than a pint ever would. Most lobby bars are happy with a soft drink too, and a good bartender treats every order with the same quiet attention regardless of what it is. What matters far more than the glass itself is the pace: nobody in a great lobby bar is rushed, and a first drink here can run twenty unhurried minutes or the better part of an hour without a waiter so much as glancing at the table.
Twenty to thirty minutes is usually enough to settle in properly before deciding what the rest of the evening should hold, whether that means moving upstairs, walking on to dinner, or simply staying exactly where you are for a second round.
Companions who love the first ten minutes
Angelika, who spends her free evenings chasing live jazz around Mayfair, treats a lobby bar as the overture to the whole evening rather than a formality to get through, and she is easy company from the very first sentence. Patricia, settled in Belgravia with a soft spot for old films and quiet bookshops, is especially good in a small, hushed room like the Blue Bar, where a slower opening suits her manner perfectly.
Neither treats the lobby as a place to linger nervously. Both, like the rest of the statuesque companions on the route, understand that a good lobby drink is really the calmest possible start to an evening, a chance to talk properly before either of you has to think about anything else.
Moving on from the lobby
When a first drink has done its job, moving on is simply a matter of standing up. A hotel visit that opens with a lobby bar and continues upstairs runs on exactly the same fare as one that begins at the door, since the whole evening, wherever it starts, is booked as a single length of time. Tell the desk when you write that you would like to meet downstairs first, and it will be noted alongside the hotel and the hour.
Whichever lobby you choose, the fares themselves sit on the rates page, unaffected by whether the evening opens in a bar chair or a lift. A good first drink simply makes everything that follows a little easier to begin.
Quick answers
No. The booking simply begins from the time you agree to meet, wherever in the hotel that happens to be, and the fare stays exactly the same.
Most grand hotel bars welcome outside guests warmly, though staying there yourself makes the evening simplest if you plan to go upstairs afterwards.
Tell the desk roughly where you will sit, or simply wait near the entrance. A quick message once you arrive is usually all that is needed.
Most hotel lobby bars take walk-ins happily even when the restaurant is full. If in doubt, the desk can suggest an equally lovely alternative nearby.