Grosvenor Square, W1K, and the first evening of a London stay

Very little of the original square survives, which is the honest thing to say about it. What stands now is a ring of tall stone and brick around a garden of planes and lawn, with the north and west given over to apartments and the east to offices that are steadily becoming something else.

The effect is of a destination rather than a thoroughfare. People cross the garden on their way elsewhere, sit in it ten minutes, and carry on. By evening it is well lit and nearly empty, and very few corners of W1K let you hear yourself think out of doors.

Five hotels sit on or beside the square, and a companion knows each lobby and the quickest line across it. As everywhere on this site, they are listed for a guest's convenience. We hold no agreement with them.

The Biltmore Mayfair, W1K 2HP, stands on the square itself, tall and modern behind an older front. Three minutes east, in a converted garage building, sits The Beaumont, W1K 6TF, small and particular. Claridge's, W1K 4HR, is four minutes south east along Brook Street. Six minutes south at Carlos Place is The Connaught, W1K 2AL, and four minutes west on Park Lane, Grosvenor House, W1K 7TN.

Bond Street station lies 4 minutes south east and carries the Elizabeth line, which is how most guests reach the square from Heathrow without giving it any thought. Marble Arch, on the Central line, is 6 minutes north west. Green Park is 10 minutes south for Jubilee, Piccadilly and Victoria trains.

An evening booked on the day of a flight is better set up before you board than after you land. Give Octavia the date, the building, and the hour your evening actually starts, and an answer will be waiting. Companions reach the square by car, and journeys inside the first two zones cost nothing on top of the fee.

A first evening goes better with an honest hour on it. Guests who name eight and land at seven spend the opening of the booking apologising. Tell Octavia the landing time and let her set things an hour later than feels necessary. A booking carries fifteen minutes of slack at its start, and nobody counts them.

For the confirmation: your full name, the building, the room, written once. She comes through the main entrance and up. The figure reaches her at the door and does not surface again. Should the night prove shorter than the one you pictured on the plane, that is entirely ordinary.

Travellers in London three or four nights, with a schedule beginning the following morning. People taking one of the apartments for a season. Guests at The Biltmore attending something in one of its rooms who would rather not walk in by themselves. What they ask for first is not glamour but ease: someone able to carry an opening conversation without needing the day explained to her.

Seven o'clock. A guest writes from a car, the landing hour behind him: four hours from nine, dinner near the square, a companion with an even temper and good English. Octavia proposes Vanessa, who is attentive, curious, and keeps a notebook of words she is still learning.

Nine o'clock. They eat four minutes from the hotel. He talks about the week ahead, hears himself doing it, stops, and asks about the notebook instead. They walk twice round the garden on the way back. Four hours, £1,800, and a second evening taken for the Thursday.

Luna, Samanta and Angelika are Mayfair residents, minutes from the garden. Laura and Vanessa come in from Paddington, which along the Elizabeth line is closer than the map admits. Rosa travels from Marylebone and Nancy from Covent Garden, neither journey longer than a quarter of an hour.

Mount Street is four minutes south, Bond Street four minutes south east, and Park Lane four minutes west with the park behind it. Mayfair runs south from here, and Albemarle Street, which gave this house its name, is some eight minutes on foot. All are served on the same terms.