Grills just want to have fun

The Beaumont Hotel is a bright white cake in the silent part of Mayfair, where the only sound is Patek Philippe watches, tick-tocking. We are in the eye of the storm, where it should be quiet; of the cacophony of Selfridges, just to the north, we hear nothing. It is the first hotel from Chris Corbin and Jeremy King, creators of the Delaunay, the Wolseley, Brasserie Zédel and Fischer’s. The façade is so languid, pristine and self-satisfied that it could — no, should — be Swiss, even if it was once an Avis garage wrought in Art Deco. It reminds me of the Beau-Rivage Palace on Lake Geneva, a hotel which likes itself so much it built another just the same, and will spend eternity admiring itself in both its double and the lake.

The Beaumont, however, is made singular by a large exterior structure, which looks slightly like a Transformer robot lynched by an interior designer specialising in ruining Cotswold farmhouses (it is carpet grey) and stuck on the front of a hotel, where it squats stupidly: a Transformer on the loo.