London, United Kingdom

The Groucho Club

Price per night from$211.89

Price information

If you haven’t entered any dates, the rate shown is provided directly by the hotel and represents the cheapest double room (including tax) available in the next 60 days.

Prices have been converted from the hotel’s local currency (GBP175.00), via, using today’s exchange rate.


Cool Britannia


London’s raffish heart

The darling of artists, eccentrics and fame-fleeing musicians, The Groucho Club has now given Smith the key to its rooms – a golden ticket to cross the threshold and experience its maverick spirit. Founded in 1985 as an alternative to the capital’s stiff-collared gentlemen’s clubs, the Groucho has spent three decades as the enfant terrible of London’s social scene, becoming the haven of choice for creative minds and high-flying hedonists alike. Laced with Cool Britannia lore and decked with works by Tracey Emin, Marc Quinn and Damien Hirst (who once put his entire Turner Prize winnings behind the bar), this West End institution is a monument to British artistry, individualism and – a warning to those in search of R&R – a good knees-up.

Smith Extra

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A bottle of club wine


Photos The Groucho Club facilities

Need to know




Noon. Earliest check-in, 2pm.


Double rooms from £210.00, including tax at 20 per cent.

More details

Rates include access to the club and à la carte breakfast. Stay true to your health kick with options like bircher muesli and avocado on toast, or opt for more decadent dishes like blueberry pancakes or the Ultimate Groucho Breakfast.


Known as a haven for hellraisers, the Groucho is no stranger to a party with the bars open 'til 2am. Naturally, the sound of these revels does sometimes travel, so this probably isn't the right place to stage your silent retreat. If you're planning on retiring before the bar closes, it's worth asking for a room on a higher floor to put some extra distance between you and the night owls.

Hotel closed

The Groucho closes over Christmas and New Year, usually from 24 December to 7 January.

At the hotel

Club rooms, free WiFi throughout. In rooms: flatscreen TV with Sky; minibar; Nespresso coffee machine; REN bath products.

Our favourite rooms

Every room is different, so they’ve all got their own quirks and charm. The Small Doubles are perfect for young sybarites looking for a crash pad, but we’d recommend one of the Large Doubles if there’s two of you (the king-size bed alone justifies the extra spend).

Packing tips

Your most bohemian self. Everything else you need is here.


Common areas are wheelchair accessible, but there are no specially adapted rooms. You can mingle in the iconic members-only club, but but you can't sign in additional guests. The club is a strictly 'no photos' zone; all devices must be put away by 5pm.


All ages are welcome, but children aren’t allowed in the bar or club rooms and things can get a bit hedonistic after dark. In the club’s own words, ‘there are few distractions for the innocent.’ Some rooms can fit a cot (free) or extra bed (£50 a night).

Food and Drink

Photos The Groucho Club food and drink

Top Table

Aim for one of the half-moon booths; you’ll both get to sit on the supple banquette and have views across the room.

Dress Code

Like an artist who can now command a fair price for his paintings, but still loves his Doc Martens all the same.

Hotel restaurant

The Dining Room is a real treat for the eye, sporting an ornate arched ceiling with a glass roof, a spiral chandelier, blue leather banquettes and a polished parquet floor. It also feels roomy thanks to its unusual layout – the majority of tables hug the walls, leaving the middle of the room free bar an S-shaped booth that snakes through it. The menu mingles the best of British cuisine with a little continental panache: start with the Bloody Mary-cured salmon or English pea and girolle mushroom risotto, follow with the grilled Dover sole or dry-aged Hereford steak frites. Bernie's is more casual, named after Legendary Club manager Bernie Katz you can dine deli-style at the marble counter or order a sharing dish fresh from the wood-fired oven. You’ll be dining in good company no matter who’s at the next table, as the walls are decked with works by some of Britain’s biggest contemporary artists. Naturally, in such an exclusive enclave, you must have a booking to enter the restaurants, even if you're staying, so secure a seat to avoid disappointment. 

Hotel bar

Most bar managers would sell their soul for the sort of atmosphere that pervades Groucho’s bar after dark. It’s the kind of place where things might start innocently, but end with you wrapped around the piano, singing along to Bowie in the company of rock royalty. These things happen here. The drinks themselves are worth singing about, too: each of the signature cocktails reflects the club’s maverick spirit, drawing inspiration from the art on the walls and the characters that frequent the club. Kickstart your evening with Knickers in a Twist, a vodka sour made with bay leaf-infused Black Cow vodka, Cherry Heering liqueur, lime juice, fig syrup, chocolate bitters and egg white. If you’d prefer something classic, just ask. They’re not on the menu because, well, they’re classics. As with the restaurants, the bar is strictly booking only, so bag a bar stool in advance. Overnight guests are welcome in all areas of the club and are permitted to sign in up to four additional guests.


Last orders

Breakfast is served daily from 8am to 11am. Lunch is from noon to 3pm; dinner from 6pm to 10:30pm. The bar stays open (and often busy) 'til 2am.

Room service

You can order any thing from the Club Menu while the Restaurants are open.


Photos The Groucho Club location
The Groucho Club
45 Dean Street
United Kingdom

The Groucho Club is in Soho, the louche and liberal heart of London.


London Heathrow is the one to aim for – it’s got the most routes and the quickest links into central London. The Heathrow Express will whisk you to Paddington in 15 minutes; a taxi will take you around an hour if the traffic plays nicely.


If you’re coming from within the UK, all of London’s terminal stations are within easy reach – most are just a few stops away on the Tube. Leicester Square is the closest Tube station; Piccadilly Circus and Tottenham Court Road are hot on its heels.


You won’t need a car if you’re staying at the Groucho, which is bang in the centre of central London. The Tube has you covered within the city, and trains will take you further afield should you need them. If you do plan to drive, be aware that the hotel is inside London’s Congestion Charge Zone – expect to pay £11.50 a day if driving between 7am and 6pm from Monday to Friday. Want to hire anyway? The Smith24 team can arrange it.

Worth getting out of bed for

Once synonymous with red lights and rouge lips, Soho has always taken its role as London’s entertainer seriously. Behind closed doors, x-rated attractions used to draw the crowds; out on the street, it was café culture and the lure of neon lights. For better or worse, it’s lost much of the seediness of its earlier days, but it’s still one of the capital's most lively, diverse and liberal quarters, and staying at the Groucho puts you right in the thick of it. As you wander the streets, keep an eye out for the much-mythologised Seven Noses of Soho. These plaster cast noses were fixed to various walls by artist Rick Buckley, who put them there in 1997 but didn’t tell anyone for more than a decade, allowing dozens of urban myths to take root in the meantime. But if Soho’s got a good nose, she’s also got a first-rate ear. The area is joined at the hip with the music and entertainment industries and home to iconic venues like Ronnie Scott’s, the seminal jazz bar known for hosting the cream of the crop – Earl Hine, Chet Baker, Ella Fitzgerald and the like have all taken the stage over the years. Other worthy contenders include legendary gig venue the 100 Club, blues bar Ain’t Nothing But and Live at Zédel, an art deco relic that hosts cabaret shows, drag acts and more.

Local restaurants

Soho has had a French connection for hundreds of years, which has done no end of good for its restaurants. There are plenty to choose from, but few carry more weight than L’Escargot, favoured by everyone from Coco Chanel to Mick Jagger. As the name suggests, snails are the specialty, but you'll also be hard pushed to find a better lobster bisque or chateaubriand anywhere in town. An old favourite of King Edward VII and Oscar Wilde, Soho staple Kettner’s is often credited with bringing French cuisine to London society. A reputation for scandal gave it lashings of raffish charm in its heyday, and although it’s better behaved today, it’s still got the power to transport thanks to its decadent art nouveau interiors. Quo Vadis – which is in a building that Karl Marx once called home – doffs its cap to St George with a menu as English as they come. Enjoy the flavours of this green and pleasant land in dishes like skate wing, pheasant pie or the smoked eel sandwich, which is served with a punchy horseradish cream.

Local cafés

For coffee, try Café Italia, a 1950s relic that wouldn’t look out of place in Brooklyn or a Chicago suburb. The walls are decked with black and white photographs and the till is an old-school manual job, so make sure you’ve got some cash on you.

Local bars

Stop in for a pinot or glass of Breton cider at the French House, a Francophile (and pint-sized) pub down the road from the Groucho. It’s jam-packed most evenings, so you may find the best option is to grab your drinks and decamp to the pavement, where the talk is often lively. 


Photos The Groucho Club reviews
Damian Barr

Anonymous review

By Damian Barr, Writer and salonnier

The Groucho is to Soho as long is to lunch, as gin is to tonic, as hangover is to horn. What happens at the Groucho is very much supposed to stay there so sections of this review have been redacted to protect privacy and preserve at least one marriage. Just a few hours of my stay are lost to memory and may they forever remain so. 

Soho brims with private member’s clubs. I’ve frequented all of them at various stages and at various hours. Century is very actory and I’ve blundered in to more than one wrap party and danced with a lighting director who congratulated me on the script. I started my literary salon at Soho House in 2008 so for years was to be found on Greek Street (my Salon is now at the Savoy, where I am their very first literary ambassador). In the intervening decade Soho House has taken over the world and people with laptops have slightly taken over it – still, I love it for a good meeting that rolls into a good drink. Staying on Greek Street there’s the Union which is funky rather than sleek and fun for publishing parties. I don’t know who uses Blacks anymore but they’re sticking to candlelight and small intensely decorated rooms and there’s something to be said for that. Quo Vadis (upstairs) is presided over by the divine Jeremy Lee who cooks up a storm and throws his guests together merrily. Then there’s the Groucho…

‘Membership to the Groucho Club is more exclusive than the SAS and nearly as tough to get; more mysterious than the Masons, with an initiation ceremony that would make a ninja faint’. So says the application form they rather cruelly insert in the room-service menu.  You’re probably not going to get in. The Committee is famously arbitrary and it’s quicker to get a hip replacement on the NHS than it is climb their waiting list. But you’re definitely going to want to join. And if you’re staying in one of the 20 rooms above the club you’re granted temporary membership for the duration. It’s like suddenly being able to sing.

The Groucho opened in 1985 to men – and women – as an antidote to the stuffy single-sex nonsense of Clubland down the road in St James. It was started by publishing folk including Carmen Callil, Ed Victor and Liz Calder and Michael Sissons in the glorious era of the long lunch. It’s now owned by some private consortium but don’t let that bother you – the guests are still greeted with their first name by the staff, all of whom are charming without fail. 

For years Bernie Katz – tiny, loud, naughty beyond – was front of house. He’s the one who didn’t let the Spice Girls in. He’s also the one who put me into a cab and gave me the money for it one night. When he died in 2017 all Soho went into mourning. The staff are actors and this is their set, yet they make you feel like a star.

Who goes there? Well, you’re not supposed to say. And the staff certainly keep your secrets (right, Liam?). As I signed in I saw Her From That Big Netflix Thing and Him From The Guardian a few signatures above me. Over the desk is the artwork for Peter Blake’s 80th birthday party featuring hundreds of Names including (at opposite ends of the same feathery spectrum) Shirley Bassey and Grayson Perry. You can barely see the walls for all the art. It started with the YBAs – Hirst, Turk, Emin – who made their names and the Groucho’s reputation with their creativity and decadence in the 1990s. Artists often donate work in lieu of membership fees. After staggering in from the Man Booker Prize I ran into two of the best, and brightest, visual artists working in London today. I also bumped into one of my favourite editors who was happily too drunk to ask after my latest column (on its way, promise).

We’re almost at the rooms. But first, the lift. I want membership of the lift. It’s lined with padded burgundy leather and has some mesmerising video art of clouds or something on the wall. It’s so dark and sexy I willed it to get stuck. 

Right, the rooms. I opted for a Bigger Double. There are smaller ones and even singles and apparently also a whole flat. One entire wall of my room was windows so thank goodness for blinds.  The ceiling was high enough to hang a sling. Pink was the leitmotif with shocking pink velvet armchairs and a vast canvas of candy splodges that could have been Howard Hodgkin on a sugar high. The bed was big enough for any combination of Smiths. The bathroom was a bit of a squeeze and the door is glass so forget privacy.

It’s noisy. You can hear the party downstairs (until 2am) and the unique symphony of 45 Dean Street – camera shutters from paps, lapdancers arguing outside Sunset Strip, the plaintive cry of the Big Issue seller and about a hundred tuk-tuks and cabs. There are ear-plugs by your bed but you’re not here to rest are you? That’s what brunch is for.

I have honestly never had anything so delicious or restorative as brunch the morning after the very late night before with the artists and my editor. It was a deep-fried duck egg coated in breadcrumbs swimming in some kind of frothy cheese topped with shaved truffles. On the side were fingers of toast with melted brie atop and yet more truffles. I actually groaned with pleasure which wasn’t attractive but there we have it.

Dinner in the Italian restaurant at the back – some brilliant Shrigleys on the wall – was an endless parade of small but not meagre plates: unctuous carbonara; sharp melty Roquefort with caramelized onions; some drunken cherries that were actually sozzled. All washed down with a bottle of white burgundy that didn’t make feel ripped off for once. Flickering flames from the pizza oven cast a romantic/hellish glow depending on your mood. I dined with A Very Clever Famous Comedian who also happens to be vegetarian and she was as delighted by the fare as me. 

Eventually you have to sign out. I stumbled on to Dean Street smiling. In a spirit of great optimism, I may have taken the membership form with me. Let’s hope there’s no CCTV in that lift.  

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