London, United Kingdom

The Lost Poet

Price per night from$210.94

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 (GBP166.67), via, using today’s exchange rate.


Dapper Victorian dwelling


Balladic Portobello

A tiny townhouse in Julia Roberts’ favourite part of London, The Lost Poet is a small-scale celebration of daring design, with fluorescent flashes, bold and beautiful upholstery, and wallpaper that won’t spare your blushes. There are just four rooms, with a narrow Victorian staircase connecting them – two have outdoor space, including the capital’s brightest basement. The show-stopper suite is the Muse, which most Londoners would happily move into. There’s a pub opposite for your daily dose of traditional British chinwags, and plenty more bars and restaurants on your doorstep (as well as a certain market, of course).

Smith Extra

Get this when you book through us:

A Lost Poet tote bag; for guests staying five days or more, a Lost Poet candle


Photos The Lost Poet facilities

Need to know


Four, including two suites.


11am. Earliest check-in, 3pm.


Double rooms from £200.00, including tax at 20 per cent.

More details

Rates usually include breakfast.


Staff are on site between 8am and 6pm, but tech fans can go contactless with app check-ins. And if you can’t find the television, look closer at the paintings on the wall.

At the hotel

Free WiFi throughout, tea and coffee station in reception. In rooms: Nespresso coffee machine with compostable Grind pods, smart TV, Bluetooth speaker, minibar, air-conditioning and Evolve bath products.

Our favourite rooms

Each of the four rooms has its own decadent design, with antiques, a signature shade and eye-popping upholstery – but the Muse wins the contest for its bath tub in the bedroom and second-floor sun-room with attached flower-packed terrace. If you don’t fancy climbing the narrow staircase, book the Quarters for easy access to the front door.

Packing tips

This is the kind of stay that will seem more like your own private pad, so feel free to settle in – but draw the line at bringing the kitchen sink.


The Victorian proportions of this pocket-size pad make it tricky to navigate, meaning it’s not accessible for wheelchair users.


Pets are only allowed during hotel buyouts. See more pet-friendly hotels in London.


This is one for full-size Smiths only, except during exclusive-use bookings.

Sustainability efforts

Water is bottled in house in reusable glass bottles, loo roll is recycled (but fancy) and the bath products are refillable; local suppliers are used for the breakfasts.

Food and Drink

Photos The Lost Poet food and drink

Dress Code

Market magpie.

Hotel restaurant

There’s no restaurant, but guests are given a choice of naughty or nice light breakfasts delivered to their room in a canvas bag each morning. Ottolenghi won the unofficial ‘best local pastry’ competition held by the team, and its baked goods are served with butter and jam – with chia pots and granola forming the more saintly option. The staff have created a treasure map of the area, with discounts at various Notting Hill establishments for Lost Poet guests, including at Franklin’s Wine Bar.

Room service

Tea and coffee can be ordered from reception.


Photos The Lost Poet location
The Lost Poet
6 Portobello Road
W11 3DG
United Kingdom

The hotel is on one of London’s most famous streets, Portobello Road, in the heart of pastel-property-packed Notting Hill.


The drive from Heathrow shouldn’t take more than 45 minutes; from both Gatwick and Stansted, allow an hour and 20 minutes. The hotel can arrange transfers, from £40 for two passengers (rising to £100 for a flashier set of wheels).


It’s less than 10 minutes by car to Paddington station, and Notting Hill Gate tube station is a few minutes away on foot.


You won’t need a car for exploring London, but there are some pay and display bays outside, and a few carparks within a 15-minute walk of the property.

Worth getting out of bed for

The hotel is on one of the most well-known streets in London, cherished for its antiques, fashion and food market – Portobello’s stalls are open for business every day except Sunday. If you’re enjoying the tea in your room, head to the Bird & Blend store down the road to stock up before you go home.

Local restaurants

The neighbourhood has some of the best restaurants in town, including Clare Smyth’s much-lauded Core, foliage-filled Gold and its stellar small plates, and the legendary Ledbury. Beloved New York brunch spot Sunday in Brooklyn has made its UK debut and, handily, it's right here in Notting Hill. For seriously tasty tacos and Mexican street food, head to Taqueria; and Eat Tokyo may look simple, but its sushi is superb.

Local cafés

For the best baguettes this side of the Eurostar terminal, don’t miss Maison Puget, where you can stockpile award-winning sticks of bread and patisserie classics.

Local bars

Whatever your beverage requirement (well-picked wine, stiff cocktail), Franklin’s Wine Bar on Westbourne Grove has the alcohol units for you. The unmissable (thanks to its yellow paint) Sun in Splendour is a classic British boozer, helpfully located directly over the road.


Photos The Lost Poet reviews
Suzanne Bearne

Anonymous review

By Suzanne Bearne, Touring scribe

It takes all of two minutes of being in Notting Hill before a tourist sits on a step and asks me to take a picture of them. I’d read/heard about this; how the neighbourhood is besieged with Instagram influencers desperate to have a snap of themselves outside the colourful houses around the famous Portobello Road in order to pimp up their social media. But in this instance, it’s outside the property where I’m staying – boutique hideaway the Lost Poet – with its bounty of inviting, eye-catchingly hued flowers above its sign and threaded along its porch railings. And, even though I have a suitcase in one hand, mobile in the other from which I’d been scouring Google Maps, and two bags lugged over my shoulder, her phone is stuffed in my hand quicker than I can say ‘I'm also just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her’ (yes, that, the most famous line from Notting Hill). I do my duty – after all, who am I to scuffle someone’s grid?

The area outside is buzzing (or exhausting, depending on your mood), but this is typical for a Saturday afternoon in the neighbourhood. However, once you’re inside the Lost Poet – home to just four apartments – it’s calm and quiet. We’re in the fittingly named Muse hideaway, the pearl at the top floor of the hotel’s narrow winding wooden staircase. I say we, but Mr Smith has yet to make an appearance; coming in from different corners of the UK, we arranged to meet up later. Good for me, as it means I can have some quiet time, and scout out the vintage and charity shops the area excels in. At first, I put my bags down, happy to see a freestanding tub in the bedroom. ‘I did think there was an upstairs’, I say to the staff. Their heads turn skywards – around the corner, there are more stairs leading to a second floor, maisonette-style, with a sofa- and sun-filled living area, and – oh my – a rooftop. I feel like I should order my friends around for a party, but I’m eager to look for a bargain on Portobello Road, and I know for sure I’ll give it some attention later. 

I weave and dance my way down Portobello Road, past whiffs of mulled wine, which is so abundantly available it’s practically flowing down the street, and the busy market stalls. I duck and dive into indie stores, buy a mince pie for Mr Smith, spot movie landmarks from Notting Hill, such as the famous bookshop (called the, uh, Travel Bookshop), secure a bargain in the form of a svelte black dress from a charity shop (see, I told you the charity shops are on point around here), and buy a bottle of sparkling wine to take back to my Georgian townhouse (well portion of it) where, on request, an ice bucket is brought to the room. 

Corks are popped on the roof terrace when Mr Smith arrives, and we find ourselves people-watching for a while, despite the chilly evening. Tipsy, we head out for tacos before we find ourselves at locally loved Gold, Notting Hill, sipping cocktails by the bar’s fireplace, and slowly realise that it is part date-central, with couples locking lips around us (for transparency, we might have been one of those couples on one or three occasions) and part Made in Chelsea set piece. After a few cocktails we head back to the Lost Poet and snooze like a dream, even waking up without a hangover and before the 9am breakfast tote bag is left hanging from the door. Inside there are a couple of bottles of juice, vegetarian pastries (for Mr Smith) and a healthy vegan breakfast of compote and berries for me. With papers by our sides, it’s a very cuddly – yet informative – morning in bed. 

But, sunshine awaits outside, so we decide to explore the area. Firstly we hit Holland Park, which – within its 55 acres – has the very photogenic Japanese-style Kyoto Garden with a pond filled with koi carp and sculptures dotted around. It’s a far cry from the past when it was partially destroyed by bombs during World War II (yes, I did learn something). Afterwards we try our luck hunting down a spot with availability for two for a Sunday roast, before – after several failed – attempts, finding one on our doorstep. All those carbs make us snoozy so afterwards we return to the Lost Poet for a post-roast nap and warm bath (it’s a bit of a squeeze in the tub, but we manage to find a position that works…). 

Then a pal texts me to say we must visit him as he lives in the area; and, it turns out, he’s just in the mews around the corner, another covetable Notting Hill location. We hang out there with their kids, sipping tea and trying not to feel just a little jealous. But then, we’re distracted by some excellent suggestions for where to eat. We make a beeline for Tonkotsu, which, from my Hackney days, I know offers delicious ramen, before we leave, giddy on flavourful broth and noodles, to spend Sunday night at Electric Cinema, part of members’ joint Soho House, with its plush burgundy sofas and softly glowing lamps on tables. However, our choice of film, Saltburn, is less comfortable – it’s so dark and twisted we continually look to each other for reassurance. 

Luckily we have our haven, the Lost Poet, to return to. Post-last-breakfast Mr Smith caves in to work demands on the upstairs level, while I lounge about below. After errands are done, we totter off to Kensington Gardens, envious of the rainbow of houses lining the street parallel to the park. We leave, perhaps not influencers, but with a few sneaky pictures for the ‘gram. Well, when in Notting Hill…

You’ll also find The Lost Poet in:

Book now

Price per night from $210.94