There are rooms with a view, and then there are rooms with rotundas with a view. My corner Wintergarden suite at the Andaz has a little turret nook with a chaise longue, a carpet the colour of autumn leaves and windows all around; I can close the doors and gaze down at the red trams rattling across Senovážné Square: a little lighthouse view of the New Town street scene. Set in a former insurance HQ, empty for two decades, the Andaz landed in 2022, bringing a bright new dynamic to a quiet part of the New Town – compared to some of the more historically minded hotels here, Andaz felt like a neon burst of Studio 54 energy. Madrid’s Brime Robbins studio have had fun with the design, riffing on local legends such as the Golem (look out for the clay man in the lobby, wearing only trousers) and brave Prince Bruncvik, who defeated the monstrous bird Noh with his faithful lion companion. Sculptures of leonine snouts, wings and swords decorate the corridor walls (handy for locating your room), while local creatives have made pieces such as the balloon-like installation in the entrance, and the mushroomy glassware, ceramic twists and Pop Art murals in the open-plan lounge. It’s a visual feast, but never overwhelming, and there’s a Hoxton Hotel-like buzz around the bar and brasserie, which draw in locals and guests alike. In the former, guests are invited to sniff fragrances to tell their co*cktail preference; in the latter, the Czech-Japanese menu plates up punchy flavours such as pickled rhubarb salad, rabbit svickova and kimchi squid. Bedrooms are less busy, calm spaces with forest-green and royal-blue headboards, pink timber flooring, Deco flourishes and brass lights; the Wintergarden Residence Suite, though, is a time-capsule replica of the private boudoir of 1930s film star Adina Mandlova, with original mahogany marquetry, rose-patterned wallpaper and the secret door she used to usher her many lovers out. If Adina was around today, she’d doubtless be found in the Karla Rott basem*nt spa, waiting in the wood-slatted sauna for her anti-ageing facial.
Address: Andaz Prague, Senovážné nám 976/31, Nové Město
Augustine, A Luxury Collection Hotel
Prague is bulging with history walks past baroque this and alchemical that, but here’s a hotel with its own guided tour. With the Augustine formed from seven terracotta-roofed buildings of the (still active) St Thomas’s monastery, dating back to the 13th century, the walk takes you from the recently woven tapestry depicting the celestial zodiac above reception through meditative herb gardens, past beautiful stained-glass windows and along cloisters and into the church itself. It’s a baroque masterpiece, gleaming white and gold, with two Rubens paintings above the altar and frescoes in the dome high above; in one casket recline the skeletal remains of a saint wearing a metal mask. And then, all of a sudden, a door opens into the monks’ refectory and there’s a huge portrait of Debbie Harry looking down above a co*cktail bar. Religious and pop iconography side by side. Do the four remaining brothers here chant ‘Heart of Glass’ in an idle moment? I didn’t dare ask. The Blondie moment came from designer Olga Polizzi, who added colour and Cubist pizzazz when the Augustine opened in 2009. Tucked away behind walls near the river in the Mala Strana district, this exists in a world of its own. There’s a pretty courtyard garden with roses entwined around arches, a vaulted basem*nt pub serving St Thomas’s beer – once brewed by the monks – and a Turkish hammam. The restaurant, which spills out into the main sundial garden, is newly headed up by Jan Horak (formerly of Copenhagen’s Jordnaer and CottoCrudo across the river), who has tattoos of mushrooms and turnips on his arms and creates seafood- and vegetable-forward menus with painterly dishes such as amberjack sashimi with grapefruit, lobster tail in a coffee and pear sauce, and a clever truffle cavatelli made from leftover sourdough – puddings included a dark chocolate flower with a pistil of cardamom creme. Ask to see the Tower Suite, a former observatory with a spiral staircase up two floors to glorious views; most of the other rooms were made from two or three monks’ cells, furnished with 1920s illustrations and artworks, the occasional angular piece of furniture, marble bathrooms the colour of mottled parchment and a deep sense of calm. Lying in my bed after a night at the Ungelt Jazz Club, I fell asleep to the ASMR sound of trams trundling far below. A hotel that feels like a condensed version of Prague.
Address: Letenská 12/33, 118 00 Malá Strana, Prague
Almanac X Alcron
This is where the Times foreign correspondent stayed in 1989 when the Iron Curtain was corroding, and Czechoslovakia’s Velvet Revolution was approaching. White-gloved waiters would bring Champagne while he sent his reports by telex, and the world waited. A different era. The Alcron was built in 1932 and its Art Deco design was inspired by the classic ocean liners of the period; the ceiling of the low-slung lobby a mirror image of the black-edged squares of white marble floor – the sort that look as if they might light up when you step across them. The lifts are Klimt-golden, and the bar is a beauty, a warm embrace of Cubist geometrics in hand-hewn wood, stone and fabric; the co*cktails riff on historic anecdotes from the hotel’s history –the counter stools here deserve to have Lauren Bacall sitting on them. Chaplin and Churchill both stayed and then Prague was submerged into the Eastern Bloc. The Alcron has been through several reincarnations since, but in 2023 reopened under the Barcelona-based Almanac banner, keeping the vintage bones but refurbishing the bedrooms – clean-cut with modern chaise longues, glass pendants and marble ‘eye’ floor lamps – and showcasing local artists in the lobby and up the incredible marble-and-brass staircase. (Just a little niggle: the original Deco mural off the lobby, quite Tamara de Lempicka in looks, is now concealed by a curtain; do ask to take a look at it). A coffee shop has recently opened at the front; the restaurant, meanwhile, is a game-changer. Unusually for Prague, it’s plant-forward, mixing local ingredients such as dill, pumpkin, mushrooms and wild trout with kohlrabi, popping buckwheat and fermented apple for what feels like a primer in the Czech terroir, accompanied by really good Czech wines. Wenceslas Square is just down the street, while the fabulous Lucerna concert hall, with David Cerna’s playful statue of King Wenceslas on an upside-down horse, is opposite.
Address: Štěpánská 623/40, Nové Město
