The London I Keep Returning To

A personal guide to hidden museums, old bookstores, atmospheric hotels, and the quieter corners of the city that stayed with me

Over the last six years, I must have visited London close to forty times.

At first, it was mostly for gemological education and family visits. Later came archival research for my graduate thesis in art history, museum appointments, auction previews, long solitary walks through Bloomsbury in winter drizzle, and the gradual realization that London had somehow become the city I return to whenever I need stimulation, inspiration, or simply a reminder that beauty does not always need to be obvious to be profound.

This is not a guide to ticking landmarks off a list.

It is a collection of places that stayed with me.

Not necessarily the grandest or most famous, but spaces that possess atmosphere: places where old wood creaks beneath your feet, where candlelight softens stone, where books smell faintly of paper and dust, and where modern London occasionally reveals the older, stranger city still hiding beneath it.

London rewards obsession in a way very few cities still do.

And perhaps that is why I miss it so much whenever I am away from it for too long.

Marylebone: Where I Always End Up

I almost always stay in Marylebone.

There are objectively trendier parts of London, but few feel as quietly livable. It has enough elegance to satisfy the luxury lover in me while remaining calm enough that one can still walk without feeling trapped inside an endless carousel of aggressively curated social media aesthetics.

From there, I usually drift toward Fitzrovia and Bloomsbury, the parts of London that feel most like “my” London. Not polished in the sterile sense.

Intellectual. Slightly melancholic. Full of Georgian facades, hidden cafés, old bookstores, museum staircases, students carrying impossible stacks of books, and the particular kind of beauty London develops in bad weather.

Some cities reveal themselves in sunlight. London reveals itself in fog, rain, and lamplight. Even now, the smell of wet stone and old paper instantly transports me back there.

Unlike Zurich: my home city I explored previously in my Guide to Independent Luxury in Zurich, and one that often feels like an immaculate sanctuary built for banking, precision, and discreet capitalism...if you know, you know. London overwhelms in an entirely different way: It is chaotic, layered, eccentric, intellectual, occasionally filthy, and infinitely more alive.

Bloomsbury & Fitzrovia: The London I Love Most

Bloomsbury possesses a kind of quiet academic romance I never seem to tire of.

Perhaps it is proximity to the British Museum. Perhaps the literary ghosts lingering in the architecture. Or perhaps simply the feeling that everyone around you is either writing a dissertation, translating medieval manuscripts, or recovering psychologically from attempting both simultaneously.

A few places I return to constantly:

• Treadwell’s Books  – one of the most beautifully curated esoteric bookstores I have encountered anywhere. Intelligent, atmospheric, and refreshingly free of performative occult theatrics.

• L. Cornelissen & Son  – an extraordinary old art supply shop that feels almost alchemical in atmosphere. Drawers of pigments, ancient artistic materials, rare papers, brushes, and strange little objects that make one immediately want to illuminate manuscripts by candlelight.

• Hatchards – because every atmospheric city deserves a proper old-world bookshop, and few places make rainy afternoons feel more civilized. Not only is this the most beautiful book shop I've been in, but the lovingly sorted inventory is unmatched....their rare books and special editions cabinets alone are worth visiting for. Just be warned, your wish list will get longer. 

• Troy Books — particularly wonderful for anyone interested in folklore, mythology, folk magic, and Britain’s stranger traditions. Troy Books has showcased the most unusual and fascinating rare tomes and editions that any occult collector could hope for. Unique covers, strange bindings and small batches....all things this world often lack and I'm always happy to browse at this indie publisher's. 

If you are similarly drawn to darker atmospheres and interiors, you may also enjoy my piece on How to Create a Gothic Atmosphere at Home, which explores why candlelight, shadow, texture, and old materials remain so emotionally compelling.

Few places make me want to light candles, disappear into books, and ignore emails more effectively than Fitzrovia after dark.

Museums, Manuscripts & Beautiful Obsessions

It would probably be dishonest to write a guide to London without admitting that part of my attachment to the city is deeply academic.

My graduate thesis in art history – which was, in essence, a gothic metalhead love story disguised as academic writing, focused on John Martin’s monumental, devastatingly sublime biblical trilogy at the Tate Britain: The Last Judgement at Tate Britain.

Even now, I think the journey to see it properly is worth making.

The paintings are enormous, catastrophic, theatrical things: collapsing civilizations, divine wrath, impossible skies, fire swallowing entire worlds. Excessive in the most magnificent possible sense.

Oddly enough, London is one of the few cities where this level of intensity never feels entirely out of place.

Afterward, I highly recommend doing something significantly less scholarly and taking an Uber Boat across the Thames. Sitting on the river at dusk while the city slides past in silver-grey light has become one of my favorite small London rituals.

For the culturally inclined, Victoria and Albert Museum remains one of the greatest museums in the world and somewhere I return to constantly.

The jewelry gallery alone is worth hours of attention: Bronze Age relics, Renaissance adornment, Art Nouveau masterpieces, royal commissions, contemporary high jewelry, and even custom creations made for Beyoncé coexist within the same labyrinthine halls.

But the true hidden jewel of the V&A is not the galleries. It is the library.

Every Monday, visitors can explore carefully selected archival objects brought out by the staff – an extraordinary opportunity to encounter pieces normally hidden from public view. You can also apply for a free research card and work privately with archival material, something I genuinely do not think enough people know about.

For anyone interested in art history, craftsmanship, symbolism, manuscripts, jewelry, textiles, or decorative arts, it feels dangerously close to paradise. Among the holdings are rare Gothic and Enlightenment works that are otherwise extraordinarily difficult to access outside specialized academic institutions. So, if you haven't had the pleasure, I fully recommend setting aside a few hours to explore the National Art Library. 

London rewards obsession like few other cities.

Which is perhaps why I also adore places like Altea Gallery: a dangerous destination for anyone fascinated by cartography, celestial charts, antique prints, exploration history, and the like. It is precisely the sort of place where one enters “just to browse” and leaves an hour later emotionally attached to a seventeenth-century star atlas one absolutely does not need but suddenly cannot imagine living without. If you're lucky, the lovely proprietor may be around, I've had the nicest, most educational chats with him – truly a destination where genuine interest and joy spark the most unexpected encounters. 

Nearby, auction houses and galleries quietly continue London’s old collecting culture. Even if one has no intention of bidding, preview exhibitions at Sotheby’s or Christie’s remain one of the great free luxuries of the city: wandering through rooms filled with objects so beautiful, strange, or historically important that they almost stop feeling real.

Fragrance & Atmosphere

London is also one of the few cities where fragrance still feels treated as an art form rather than merely a cosmetic product.

One place I continue returning to is Bloom Perfumery. It is a beautifully curated niche perfumery that introduced me to several extraordinary independent houses over the years. Unlike larger luxury retailers, the atmosphere feels deeply personal and exploratory, almost like being guided through a library of scent rather than a conventional shop. You neither get harassed by an overly enthusiastic associate chasing their latest commission, nor are you olfactorily overwhelmed by a offensive mist of oud and florals upon entering the shop. You may also enter their lab and whip up your own fragrance, if you so boldly dare. 

Perhaps unsurprisingly, my fascination with places like this eventually found its way into my own work at Silvanité. I have written previously about the emotional relationship between atmosphere, memory, and fragrance in How to Choose a Fragrance That Feels Like You, but London was undoubtedly one of the cities that deepened that obsession most profoundly.

For those interested in recreating some of that quieter atmosphere at home, my recent guide to The Best Luxury Candles for a Cozy Home explores how scent, light, and material can subtly alter the emotional character of a space.

Hidden London & Ritual Spaces

One of the things I love most about London is that it still rewards curiosity.

Some of the city’s most memorable spaces are barely visible unless someone points you toward them.

A perfect example is the Museum of Freemasonry – a place I initially visited out of curiosity regarding symbolism and ritual aesthetics and which turned out to be unexpectedly beautiful. Whatever one thinks of Freemasonry itself, the architecture, craftsmanship, ceremonial objects, and strange serenity of the interiors are undeniably fascinating. It is also great fun to request some tomes and relics to conduct personal research, 10/10 would do again. 

Equally surreal is the hidden Masonic temple unearthed and preserved beneath the Andaz London Liverpool Street. Which, BTW, you can rent out as an event location for private shenanigans, isn't that epic?! 

Walking through a sleek modern hotel only to discover an untouched ceremonial hall hidden beneath it feels quintessentially London somehow – the city forever layering one era atop another without fully erasing what came before.

London excels at these strange collisions between modernity and memory.

Ruins, Silence & the Romance of Decay

No place captures this better than St Dunstan in the East.

A ruined church overtaken by greenery in the middle of the financial district should not feel as magical as it does, and yet every time I visit, the city seems to soften around it momentarily. Stone, ivy, silence, glass towers in the distance – the entire place feels suspended somewhere between memory and dream.

Another memorable space is Mercato Mayfair, housed inside a restored church near the Hyatt Churchill.

The atmosphere itself is undeniably spectacular: candlelight, vaulted ceilings, excellent food, and the vaguely cinematic sensation of drinking wine beneath ecclesiastical architecture. Though I admittedly had a slightly less mystical interaction after briefly producing a plastic bottle and receiving what can only be described as an environmental scolding from a stranger with missionary-level intensity. Having a plastic bottle: big no-no, but receiving styrofoam plates from the vendors? Not hypocrisy, apparently. 

The Wallace Collection & London’s Beautiful Objects

And then there is The Wallace Collection.

Still astonishingly free to visit, and still somehow less discussed than it deserves to be.

Hidden inside a grand townhouse near Hyatt Regency London - The Churchill, the collection feels less like a museum and more like accidentally wandering into the private residence of an aristocratic collector with impeccable taste and limitless resources.

Arms and armor, Old Master paintings, jeweled objects, French furniture, porcelain, medieval artifacts, decorative arts...room after room of unapologetic beauty.

The armor galleries in particular feel almost surreal: ceremonial weapons, gilded helmets, cavalry armor gleaming beneath soft light like relics from some parallel fantasy world.

It is impossible not to leave slightly inspired and slightly annoyed that modern life no longer permits one to casually commission hand-engraved parade armor.

Why I Keep Returning

London is not the prettiest city in Europe, nor the calmest.

But few cities feel so layered with memory, intellect, melancholy, ambition, ritual, reinvention, and atmosphere all at once.

It is a city of hidden doors, old libraries, wet pavement reflecting gold light at dusk, forgotten churches, obscure bookstores, elegant hotels, museum archives, ceremonial halls hidden beneath modern buildings, and strange little moments that somehow remain with you for years afterward.

Perhaps that is why I continue returning to it so obsessively.

Not because it is perfect.

But because it feels alive. And damn it all, now I want to go back for my millionth visit.