Inside Four Seasons Tower Bridge: A festive stay that felt more like a story

There’s a particular kind of tiredness that creeps in during the festive period – the kind that comes from weaving through crowded platforms, dodging shoppers, and silently hoping your journey doesn’t hit a delay. By the time I reached London from Manchester, I wasn’t exhausted, but I was definitely running on that strange December autopilot. I’d stayed at a Four Seasons before, so I thought I knew what to expect: calm, comfort, predictability.

I couldn’t have been more wrong.

The rain started the minute I stepped into the city, turning quickly from a drizzle into a determined downpour. By the time I arrived at Four Seasons Tower Bridge, I looked less like a guest checking in and more like I’d been retrieved from the Thames.

Yet the hotel, a Grade II* listed Beaux-Arts landmark that once served as the Port of London Authority headquarters, immediately softened the blow. Even through the rain, its stately façade, with Corinthian columns, intricate wood carvings, and original marble floors, felt more like stepping into a chapter of London’s history than entering a modern hotel.

Someone on the front desk took one look at me, offered a reassuring smile, and whisked away my luggage before I had the chance to apologise for the small puddle forming beneath me.

Becca Monaghan

We walked through a lobby that felt closer to an art gallery than a hotel entrance – polished stone, dramatic lighting, curated displays, not to mention Hermès Birkins on sale.

I was expecting to be led toward the deluxe room I was booked in for, one of the entry-level options that (depending on the season) can be secured for a few hundred pounds. Instead, we took a turn, and I stopped in front of a single dark wooden door with a golden buzzer on the left.

Once opened, any lingering sense of tiredness evaporated on the spot.

I don’t get shocked often, not in a pretentious way, but as a journalist, you see and hear a lot that you almost become desensitised – and yet stepping into the Drake Suite made me pause. Considering this suite starts at around £2,400 a night, the jump from the regular rooms is vast – but within seconds, the difference becomes clear.

The suite itself felt like a masterclass in quiet opulence. Warm neutrals softened the space, creating an atmosphere that was grand yet unexpectedly cosy. At the centre sat a flawlessly made four-poster bed, so immaculate I ended up asking the housekeeper for her bed-making tips to take home. The cushions were the perfect paradox: firm enough to hold their shape, but soft enough to sink into.

Next to the bed, a perfectly positioned iPad let you message the team for room service, cleaning, shoe shining (yes, shoe shining) or any other service.

Soft, ambient lighting glowed from three different settings, all perfectly calibrated and easily adjustable from control panels dotted around the room.

Beyond the sleeping area, an office space sat discreetly to one side in the hallway, ideal for catching up on work, though I happily ignored it this time. Before reaching the bathroom, a classic dressing table stood waiting, complete with a Dyson fan perched to the left.

Becca Monaghan

The bathroom, hidden behind double doors that opened with a sense of theatre, was another world entirely.

It was spacious, fresh, and almost palatial. Marble floors stretched across the room, meeting twin marble sinks positioned at opposite ends, the surfaces reflecting the light from a striking golden chandelier at the centre of the room. Gold accents traced the mirrors, taps, and towel holders, adding understated glamour.

A deep, egg-shaped bath sat set under gentle lighting, decked with Codage Paris amenities arranged carefully. The walk-in shower, finished in marble with a seating area, delivered consistent, powerful water flow. Heated floors underfoot added to the indulgence, turning even the simplest step into something luxurious. Robes, slippers, a hairdryer, and all the expected essentials were tucked neatly where you’d want them.

Everything felt spacious, purposeful, and surprisingly warm for somewhere so polished.

Beyond the suite, the hotel also houses a luxury spa, pool, and fitness centre, as well as the historic UN Ballroom, which once hosted the inaugural reception of the United Nations General Assembly in 1946. But from inside the room, the outside world feels optional.

The view certainly helps. My suite looked directly onto Tower Bridge – not a glimpse, not a corner, but a full, unobstructed sweep of it, illuminated against the night.

That night, wrapped in a robe and enjoying the rare quiet, I ordered the Katsu chicken sando purely because it looked too inviting to scroll past.

For a hotel better known for its dining, from Mei Ume’s Chinese-Japanese menu to La Dame de Pic’s Michelin-starred French cuisine, and the Rotunda lounge for cocktails and afternoon tea, ordering a sandwich felt borderline rebellious. But it arrived perfect: crisp, warm, layered with brioche, tonkatsu sauce, Chinese cabbage, and wasabi mayo – exactly the kind of comforting late-night bite you don’t realise you need until it’s in front of you.

I ate it in bed, letting the silence settle around me, and for the first time that day, I stopped thinking.

Becca Monaghan

The next morning was slow in the best way. Breakfast arrived on a polished cart: shakshuka with just the right amount of spice, fresh bread, and tea, all placed by the window while I watched people heading to work.

There’s something quietly grounding about observing the world from a distance while having nowhere to be. It reminded me that sometimes the most memorable moments of travel aren’t the grand ones – they’re the still ones.

Becca Monaghan

But the moment that defined the stay happened later, when I opened the door to a full hot chocolate cart, a festive collaboration with Valrhona.

Milk chocolate, dark chocolate, sauces, toppings, and even sprinkles that instantly pulled me back to childhood. I instinctively went to help set it up, only to be gently told to relax because they had everything handled.

One of the team insisted it was only right to enjoy hot chocolate by the fire and quickly arranged for the fireplace to be lit. He even helped me film content, framing each shot like he’d been directing hotel campaigns for years. It was playful and personal, and easily one of the most unexpectedly heartwarming moments I’ve had on a press stay.

The longer I spent at Four Seasons Tower Bridge, the more I noticed the smaller gestures. The effortless way the staff made every interaction feel intentional. The care woven through the details.

The balance between luxury and warmth – something not every high-end hotel achieves. London naturally leans into Christmas, but here, the season felt amplified in a way that didn’t feel performative. It felt thoughtful.

And somewhere between the rain-soaked arrival, the suite surprise, the slow breakfast, and the hot chocolate by the fire, the magic of Christmas – the real kind, the one you feel instead of see – returned a little. I’d forgotten how easy it is to rush through December, letting the noise drown out the joy. This stay pulled me out of that cycle.

I arrived tired, rain-soaked, and expecting nothing more than a quiet night.

I left feeling enchanted, restored, and – most importantly – reminded of what this time of year is meant to feel like.

Some hotels give you a stay. This one gave me a story.

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